Charming the Scottish Garden

[MMADfan]

Charming the Scottish Garden
by MMADfan

Summary: A German Herbology master charms a Scottish garden. Will the gardener also charm a Scottish witch?
Setting: Scotland, 1959
Rating: T
Genres: Drama, Romance, Humor, AU
Characters: Siofre Tyree, Lydia Prince Tyree, Johannes Birnbaum, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, others

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter One: The Gardener

Johannes flicked his wand, dusting the bread crumbs from the table, then with another flick, he deposited his plate and coffee cup in the sink. As he pushed back from the table, another wave of his wand started the hot water running and a soapy brush to cleaning his few breakfast dishes. He put the cheese and cream back in the cool cupboard by hand, then turned back to the sink to turn off the water and check the dishes for cleanliness and put them in the rack. He normally took the time to dry his dishes and put them away, but that morning, he was in a hurry. He had a new commission, and he did not want to be even one minute late.

He brushed his broad-brimmed hat, double-checked his bag, and then looked in the mirror. He had put on one of his better robes, deep green with even darker green embroidered satin trim, polished his boots, and tied back his long sandy hair with a ribbon that matched his robe. He had even considered whether to wear his gold medallion with his Mastery insignia on it before deciding that would be too ostentatious. Beneath his finer robe, although he often wore trousers for their practicality, that day he had chosen to wear a lightweight robe of pale moss green over which he could then don his heavy work apron once he got down to his task, but he had wanted to make a good impression upon arrival that first day—and not simply because this was a potentially very lucrative commission. The witch who had hired him was the grandmother of one of his friends—and of a former colleague, as well—and it was on the friend’s recommendation that the witch had hired him.

Actually, when Johannes allowed himself to reflect upon it, he admitted to himself that it was not only the witch’s relationship to Malcolm and Minerva that had prompted him to take extra care with his appearance. The witch herself was quite formidable, and Johannes had the sense that if she decided that you weren’t up to scratch, you would be dismissed and never enter her awareness again. Beyond that, or perhaps because of that, Johannes felt himself drawn to the older woman. She was commanding, sharp-witted and equally sharp-tongued, and yet she had a wicked sense of humour, even about herself; she always managed to give the impression that there was something that she knew that you did not, but that if you fell within her good graces, she would share it with you. And all this in a package barely five feet tall.

Siofre Tyree had outlived two husbands, widowed the first time as a young witch with a toddler, and the second time less than two years before. Johannes had met Siofre for the first time shortly before her second husband, Herbert McKenna, had died, and had seen her only a few times since, but each time he had seen her, his admiration for her had grown. Although she had some reserve and certainly showed no outward sentimentality, she was out-spoken, no wallflower, she, and she very clearly held deeply warm, tender feelings for her family, though she was not especially demonstrative. Her grandson, Malcolm, had made no secret of the fact that his grandmother had been his primary sparring partner when he had been preparing for his sporting duel with Albus Dumbledore, and despite her age, her apparently leisurely life, and her gender, Johannes had the sense that she could probably still out-duel most wizards from any walk-of-life. But then again, from what Minerva had told him of the Tyree witches, that exact impression might be one of her greatest assets in any face-off.

Johannes straightened his robes. Still, he would not underestimate Siofre Tyree, not in any respect. Besides, when he was absolutely honest with himself, he hoped that Siofre Tyree might find him to be more than just a competent, agreeable master Herbologist and magical garden architect. He thought that Siofre was the most attractive witch he had met in years, and he had a wistful hope that she might find him at least worthy of a second glance. It seemed to him that Siofre’s husbands had probably been very lucky wizards, indeed. Perhaps they might develop a friendship in addition to their business relationship, and perhaps he might be able to offer her some companionship.

Siofre did not live alone, having moved back to her childhood home after Herbert McKenna died, where her widowed sister-in-law, Lydia Prince Tyree, still lived following the death of Siofre’s younger brother, Murdoch, a few years previously. The two witches had apparently always had a congenial relationship, and the arrangement suited them both well. The property was in the Highlands, a part that could be called desolate, protected from the view of Muggles by strong wards, and even with fairly strong wards protecting it from uninvited wizarding visitors.

The Tyree clan had always been independent and even somewhat secretive, particularly those who still lived on the wizarding island of Tiree Beag, an independent island in the Hebrides with only loose ties to mainstream British wizarding society and only a very nominal allegiance to the British wizarding ministry, which had long ago given up trying to enforce British wizarding law on the island. Siofre had spent much of her youth on that island, and it had made its imprint on her. If a witch could be both wild and respectable, Siofre Tyree managed that, and Johannes found the combination intriguing, even enchanting.

Johannes smoothed down the lapels of his over-robe one more time, picked up his bag, and stepped out the door of the Bog End flat he’d rented in Hogsmeade. It was perfectly suited for his temporary residence until he came to a final decision about what he was going to do in the long term. He had left his Hogwarts teaching position several months before, and after having decided not to return to Germany right away, he was still exploring his other options. In the meantime, he had taken several commissions redesigning wizarding gardens or creating new installations, but none as large as the Tyree commission could potentially become. He had been hired to revitalise the herb gardens, but Siofre had asked him to make recommendations of other improvements the gardens and grounds could use, including the wooded areas. His Dendromancy studies had been brief and many decades before, but he had spent the last three days reviewing tree magic and orchard management, and he planned on visiting a friend at the Pertwee Project soon who was an expert in wizarding forestry. By the time he had finished revitalising the herb gardens, he hoped to have a comprehensive plan for the gardens and grounds, one that would impress Siofre and her sister-in-law and win him an extended commission. An extended commission would also allow him the opportunity to offer his friendship to Siofre. And perhaps . . . perhaps he might discover what he should do with the rest of his life.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“So, what’s he like, this gardener?” Lydia asked her sister-in-law over breakfast.

“He is not a gardener.” Siofre shrugged. “I suppose he is, in a sense, but he is an Herbology master. According to Malcolm, he also did an apprenticeship in Charms, but never did the mastery exams, and one of his specialities is Charmed microclimates. I believe that he is also attaining a reputation for his new hybrids, particularly ones with healing properties. Egeria was impressed by him, at any rate, as was Murdoch.”

“But what is he like, Siofre? He’ll be spending a lot of time at the estate, after all.”

Siofre frowned. “I do wish you would cease using that term. It makes us sound like some English purebloods.” She shook her head, lifting her lip in distaste. “As for this man, he is a foreigner, but he’s not English. He is German, as you know. A friend of Dumbledore’s—it was he who brought him to Hogwarts after his family had been murdered by that maniac some years ago. Seems intelligent enough, well-mannered. Has a sense of humour. I believe him to be honest, if that is a concern of yours.”

“Oh, the elves would sort him out fast enough if he weren’t,” Lydia said with a smirk, her black eyes sparkling. “Remember the wizard who was supposed to be working on the roof? And then after the house-elves were through with him, you got in your own spell to give him a final lesson in respect—I do wish you’d teach me some of those spells, sister.”

“If you were my sister, I would. But they are Tyree spells. It would take more than a few decades of marriage to make a Tyree of you, though you were my brother’s little English princess for at least that long,” Siofre said, smirking herself.

Lydia took no offence at the seemingly harsh words, but laughed. “I think you can’t teach them, sister, because they aren’t spells at all. They’re just the nastier side of the Tyree nature directing itself upon poor hapless wizards who are unfortunate enough to run afoul of a Tyree witch.”

Siofre chuckled to herself. “Aye, you may be right about that. As to Magister Birnbaum, I doubt he will encounter any such problems. He’s not a fool, whatever else he may be, and I do not believe that he is dishonest, either.”

“And is he good-looking?”

Siofre considered the question for a moment. “He is well-built, strong and straight-backed. Blond. Light-coloured eyes, though I didn’t note the colour. Decent chin and forehead. Could not call him a homely man.” Her eyes sparkled. “Aye, he’s a bonny one, Lydia.”

“Nice to have a good-looking, strong wizard about the place,” Lydia said with a smile. She took a sip of tea. “Do you think he’d mind doing a few odd jobs, aside from the gardening? The house-elves have had no luck at all with the pipes in my wing of the house. They still make the worse noises, you’d think we had a ghoul—”

“Lydia, hen, the man is not a handyman. He is not a gardener. He is an Herbologist. A Hogwarts teacher. Magister Birnbaum, or Professor, as you prefer. But use one of his titles if you must remind yourself that he is not a wizard-of-general-work! It would be best, anyway, not to encourage familiarity with . . . the gardener.”

The two witches laughed and finished their morning tea.

To be continued . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~

Author’s Note: This story has been in the offing for a couple years now, at least. It’s a kind of mini-sequel to Resolving a Misunderstanding. It focuses on some of the characters from Resolving a Misunderstanding, primarily Siofre Tyree and Johannes Birnbaum. Siofre is Minerva’s grandmother, and Johannes Birnbaum was the Herbology teacher at the time that Minerva began teaching at Hogwarts, but he left at the end of June 1958.

Two of the other characters mentioned were Egeria and Murdoch. Egeria is Minerva’s mother (in the Resolving a Misunderstanding universe fics), and a Healer-midwife. Murdoch, one of Minerva’s brothers, is a Potions master and has an apothecary in Edinburgh. Malcolm is Minerva’s oldest brother, and he’s a curse-breaker, among other things. Gareth McGonagall, Snape’s friend in A Long Vernal Season, is Malcolm’s son.

Albus and Minerva will be making appearances in this little fic, as will a few of the other characters who were in other early RaMverse fics. There is also a tie-in to the Snape-centric fic, A Long Vernal Season. I hope you enjoy it!

If you would like to learn more, or refresh your memory, about the RaMverse characters, drop by my WordPress blog and see the page “Compendium: Who, When, Where?” There are links to a number of RaMverse character guides there.

[Hogwarts Duo]

I really love Siofre and Johannes so this is going to be a wonderful and suepr fun story to read. Lydia and Siofre's chemistry is great and you've done a fantastic job of creating their characters.

Definitely looking forward to reading how this relationship will BLOSSOM!!!

CFP,
Ang

[MMADfan]

Jun 8, 2010 17:43:22 GMT -5 Hogwarts Duo said:

I really love Siofre and Johannes so this is going to be a wonderful and suepr fun story to read. Lydia and Siofre's chemistry is great and you've done a fantastic job of creating their characters.

Definitely looking forward to reading how this relationship will BLOSSOM!!!

CFP,
Ang

Thanks! I'm glad you are enjoying it. Chapter two will be up soon! I hope you enjoy it!

[MMADfan]

Chapter Two: The Garden in the Morning

Johannes stood from his crouch beside the bed of culinary herbs he had been cleaning up. This was only his second day on the job, and he was doing a lot of very basic work on the kitchen gardens. Madam Tyree had assigned two of her house-elves to help him, but until he had finished sorting out what he wanted done, he had told them to wait until he called for them. He had originally planned to hire a witch or wizard or two to help him—there were a few gardeners whom he worked with regularly—but Madam Tyree and her sister-in-law said they preferred not to have strangers working on the grounds unless it was absolutely necessary.

Johannes wiped his hands on his heavy apron before drawing his wand from its Charmed loop and casting a spell to get rid of the dead plants and other debris he had cleared that morning. Some might have used their wands to do the clearing, but Johannes felt that he got a better sense of the plants and the soil when he did most of it by hand, and he also felt that, regardless of what the wand-wavers might claim, he could be more selective when actually getting down on his knees and weeding and grooming the beds. He found it hardly any faster using his wand, either, and he preferred expending his magic on more sophisticated tasks. Besides, it was satisfying to smell the earth and to feel it between his fingers as he did the work, just casting occasional gloving charms on his hands when he needed to protect them.

He looked over the plots he had cleared, and nodded to himself. The herb garden looked better now, and he could see its original bones, but he thought that the layout could be both more aesthetically appealing and more useful. It was early spring, and although it was too early and too cold to plant a Muggle-style herb garden, with some judiciously applied light microclimate charms, he could plant some new annuals, and with some care, he could have the house-elves help him to move the perennials around.

Johannes turned to the stone table he had Transfigured from a rock earlier that morning, and unrolled the large parchments on it. He moved around so that he could both see the current herb garden and look down at the new plan for the garden that he had carefully drawn on the topmost parchment. After he’d cleared the primary portion of the garden the day before, he had sketched the current layout of the garden, and then that night at his kitchen table, he had drafted three new variations. The one he liked best, the one that he was looking at, changed the layout of the paths and included a few new features, including some raised beds of useful flowering plants. This was the version he planned to recommend to Madam Tyree, but he wanted to do so in the context of an overall plan for the gardens, and he wanted to be able to present the plan for the gardens in conjunction with a plan for the overall grounds. First, though, he had to have a clearer picture of those grounds, and of any existing plans and maps.

The previous day, Madam Tyree had told him that in the library, there were old plans for the house and grounds that he could consult. Johannes drew out his watch and snapped it open. Almost nine. Hopefully a decent enough hour to go up to the house. He had no idea what the witches’ daily habits were like, but certainly a house-elf would be able to let him into the library.

Johannes took off his long work apron, quickly cast a few charms to clean up, and slipped on his loose burnt-umber-coloured over-robe. He left his broad-brimmed hat on the table with the work apron and headed up to the house, going to the backdoor off the large kitchen pantry.

He knocked, and a lilac-coloured house-elf wrapped in pink opened the door to him.

“Good morning, Professor!” the elf greeted cheerfully. “You be needing your breakfast?”

“No, thank you,” Johannes replied. He heard voices and laughter coming from beyond the kitchen. “Is your mistress available?”

“Madam Siofre or Madam Lydia?”

Johannes hesitated, then said, “Madam Siofre, although if she is unavailable—”

“Please, if you comes through the kitchen, Madam Siofre is in the morning room. I let her know you wants to see her.” The house-elf nodded and Disapparated, leaving Johannes to find his way. Although he had cast a cleaning charm on his clothes and hands, he wiped his boots on the coconut fibre mat before stepping into the pantry.

Following the sound of the voices, Johannes walked through the pantry, pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen, then looked around. There were four doors, two on the level and two that each had a few steps leading up to them. Johannes took the steps up to the door to his left, knocked lightly, then opened it to find himself in a bright, cheerful room painted pale blue above a white chair rail, with stencilled designs running along the wall near the ceiling, and large windows that looked out onto the herb gardens where he had just been working.

Siofre was smiling down at two very tiny house-elves who were standing beside her chair. The tartan-clad witch looked up at Johannes and nodded. “Good morning, Professor.”

“Good morning, Madam Tyree.”

“I was just having my midmorning tea; would you care to join me?”

“Thank you, I would.” With a slight hesitation, Johannes chose a chair to Siofre’s left, facing the largest bank of windows, but not directly beside her, where the little elves were standing.

“Professor, this is Kilbeena and her brother, Duster. I told these wee bairns that they might watch you work today after their mother has finished their lessons, but they must not be batherin’ you, or they will have to stay inside. An you could find some little tasks for them, as well, it would be a kindness—ones not requiring very much magic.”

The two tiny elves looked up at Johannes hopefully.

“That would be fine,” Johannes said. He’d never worked with house-elf children before, and had never even seen one the entire time he had taught at Hogwarts.

The two elves bounced on their toes and smiled happily.

“Off with you now,” Siofre said. “Tell your mammie I said you could play in the gardens with the magister later.”

The two house-elves joined hands and scampered off to the kitchen, giggling excitedly and whispering nonsense words to each other. At least, Johannes thought it was nonsense.

“You would like something to eat, as well,” Siofre said. “You have been working for a while.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” Johannes began.

“No trouble. Sorrel!”

The pink-clad house-elf who had answered the door stepped out of the corner. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Fetch something for Professor Birnbaum. Bannocks and cabbock—unless you’d prefer something else?” Siofre asked, looking over at Johannes.

“That would be fine, thank you.” He hadn’t the faintest idea what cabbock was, but he’d had bannocks before. He found they varied a lot in palatability, but they were filling.

When Sorrel had vanished, Siofre twitched her wand and Summoned a cup and saucer from the sideboard. “Milk and sugar?”

“Milk only, please.”

Siofre handed him his cup. “You have accomplished much this morning.”

“There is still a good deal to do, and I would like to survey the other gardens today,” Johannes replied. “You also said that there were cold frames?”

“Aye, and the wee ones know where they are. They will feel useful if they can show you where they are,” Siofre said. “The cold frames are what is remaining of a greenhouse that was here when I was a lass. My mother and grandmother were keen gardeners, but my brother and his wife were less so, and they removed the greenhouse. They did keep the cold frames and used them for hardening off vegetable seedlings for later transplanting into the gardens.”

“Where did they start them? In the cold frames themselves?” Johannes asked. If they charmed the cold frames, they would do for starting the seeds.

“Nay, the conservatory, which you have not yet seen. Tastle and Mynok, whom you met yesterday, share the gardening duties. Tastle is in charge of the conservatory, and his brother Mynok has taken care of the grounds. They are both getting on in years, and I think that Fandenz, Gweller, and Multry do most of the actual work, but Tastle and Mynok will show you around when you are ready.”

“I would appreciate to hear your views, however,” Johannes said. He had hoped to spend some time with Siofre, partly in order to determine what kinds of garden plans would please her and partly just to get to know her.

“You will hear my views, I assure you of that,” Siofre said with a little cackle. “You will likely grow tired of hearing my views, if the experience of others is any indicator!”

Johannes smiled slightly. “I came into the house to see the plans you spoke of yesterday, the original plans of the house and grounds. I would like to see those before I tour the grounds myself.”

“I’ll show them to you, then, after you have eaten.”

As if that were a signal, Sorrel popped into the room with a tray of bannocks, butter, and soft white cheese.

“You like bannocks, lad?” Siofre asked after the house-elf had left.

“They are an interesting variation from my usual fare,” Johannes said diplomatically.

Siofre chuckled at that. “If you’d prefer something else, you only need say. We may have a few baps left from supper.”

Johannes took a wedge of the flatbread and cut off a bit of cheese, shaking his head. “These are fine, I am sure.” He hadn’t eaten since half past six, so even if the bannocks were hard and dry, washed down with some tea, they would tide him over until lunch. He bit into the bannock and chewed; his eyebrows rose and he nodded appreciatively. “These are good. They are not oaten, though, are they?”

“Beremeal—from Tiree Beag. My cousin’s farm there.”

“Bere? That is a barley, or?”

“Aye, like barley. Multry uses a lot of butter in her bannocks,” Siofre added with a slight grin as Johannes took a second piece and topped it with some of the cheese. “We will have sweet bannocks for tea—she loads them with dried fruit, and they are never the same twice.”

“Scones, then?”

“Aye—and some would call these scones, too,” Siofre said, gesturing toward the rapidly disappearing bannocks.

The two chatted for a bit about the grounds and the way Siofre remembered them being during her childhood, then the main door to the morning room opened and Lydia stepped in.

“Good morning,” Lydia said brightly. As the other two nodded their greetings, she called for Sorrel, who was there in a heartbeat.

“Good morning, Madam Lydia!” Sorrel said cheerfully. “Usual breakfast?”

“Yes, please, Sorrel, but coffee this morning, I think. Clear out my cobwebs!” she replied.

Johannes almost requested a cup of coffee, as well, but then he thought that Siofre might take it amiss—this wasn’t a restaurant, after all—and the tea really was quite good, strong, brisk, and slightly tannic in a pleasant way . . . much like Siofre. No, he would not ask for coffee that day.

“Bring a cup for our guest, as well, Sorrel,” Siofre said. Hazel eyes sparkling, she looked over at Johannes—to see his reaction, not to seek his approval.

His eyes crinkled and he nodded slightly at her. He liked this witch. As Sorrel Disapparated and Siofre quirked him a brief smile in return, the corners of Johannes’s mouth turned up. He liked this witch very much.

“My English sister-in-law is a late riser, sad to say,” Siofre said, breaking off a small corner of a bannock wedge and spreading butter on it.

“It’s hard to get up before the sun, no matter how late that may be,” Lydia grumbled, pulling out the chair between the two and sitting down with a thump.

“After eighty-five years, you should be used to it,” Siofre countered. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “And the sun’s long been up; Professor Birnbaum arrived with it.”

Lydia shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “I was up too late reading my new novel. I just had to finish it.”

A pot of coffee, pitcher of cream, and two coffee cups and saucers appeared on the table. Johannes reached for the pot and poured Lydia a cup of coffee.

She smiled at the wizard and poured cream into her cup before handing the pitcher to him. “What are your plans for the day, Professor?”

“He has already cleared the kailyaird of weeds and dead plants while you were still abed,” Siofre said. “After he has his coffee, I’ll show him the library and where to find the old plans for the grounds.”

“Do you know anything about pipes?” Lydia asked.

“Pipes? Tobacco pipes?” Johannes asked, confused. “Irrigation pipes?” he guessed again as Lydia shook her head and took a sip of coffee. “Gutters?”

“Lydia, hen, we are not batherin’ the magister with these household troubles,” Siofre admonished.

“What pipes?” Johannes asked again.

“We will have young Malcolm look at them,” Siofre said.

Lydia’s breakfast of two soft-cooked eggs, toast, and bacon arrived in front of her. “I just thought that he might know what was wrong.” Lydia neatly removed the top from her first egg and turned to Johannes. “The pipes in my wing of the house make a dreadful noise. I think they may be cursed.” Seeing Siofre’s sceptical brow, Lydia added, “They sound cursed. Moaning, whining, whistling, gurgling—and at all times of day, even in the middle of the night.”

Johannes shook his head. “Do you have a ghoul?” he suggested.

“No. At least, the house-elves say we don’t have a ghoul,” Lydia said, “and I think they would know.”

Johannes shrugged. “I have some small knowledge of drainage and irrigation pipes, but that is all. I am sorry.”

“The man is here to work on the gardens,” Siofre said to Lydia. “We will not be wasting his precious time with your skrechin pipes.”

After Johannes finished his coffee, Siofre led him out into the main part of the house, pointing out the hallway that led to the conservatory. “The music room is just before the conservatory. We use those rooms, the dining room, and the sitting room quite frequently, but if you take a wrong turn, you may end in a part of the house that we do not often use.” She gestured off to their right as they started up the stairs to the first floor. “There is a great hall that my father divided into a billiard room, a lounge, and a ballroom. He never played billiards, and we only ever used the ballroom and lounge a few times a year when we would have parties. Murdoch and Lydia came to use them a bit more, but those days of grand ceilidhs are lang syne gone. Lydia and I have had few family gatherings since I returned here to live, but we might change that. I like a good ceilidh. We do maintain one long-standing tradition in our family. Two, three times a year, we hold bonfire nights for family and friends. I would like you to look at the spot where we currently have the bonfires and think about whether there might not be a better location for them—and whether the landscaping around the area might be more . . . interesting. We’ll be doing a Beltane fire, so if you have ideas that we might implement before then, I want to hear them.”

Siofre waved her wand as they entered the library, bringing up some of the lamps and drawing the curtains back from the long windows on the far wall. The room was huge, with bookcases both along the walls and in banks perpendicular to them; a balcony ran around the room, with three wrought iron spiral staircases leading up to it and more bookcases. There were, however, several discrete areas of the room furnished with comfortable chairs, couches, tables, and lamps.

“My brother expanded the library a few decades ago by breaking through the ceiling and converting a few of the bedrooms,” Siofre explained, gesturing toward the upper level. “We still haven’t filled all of the shelves up there, even with the books I brought with me. The plans you’re seeking are in that cabinet there and in those folios on that shelf. You may come up here and consult them whenever you need to.”

“Thank you, Madam Tyree,” Johannes said. He looked around himself. “It is an impressive library.”

“We are fortunate.” She went to a window and looked out across the grounds. “It is too big for just the two of us, but the children all have their own places—Maisie stayed on in our old house when I moved back here. Her father’s house. Lydia’s son and daughter-in-law live down in Silloth-on-Solway in Cumberland.” She sighed and shook her head. “Tyrees in England. And raising their son Liam there. Perhaps one day they will move back here.” She looked up at Johannes and brightened some. “They visit often, though, and young Liam loves this house and these hills. I had hopes that when Malcolm finally returned to settle down, he would come here, but he wishes to be in Hogsmeade within sight of Hogwarts and his witch. We have invited Morgan and Fiona to join us, though, and with four wee bairns, I think they are now inclined to accept.”

Johannes smiled. “Yes, Minerva calls them ‘the litter.’”

Siofre laughed. “Aye! And I believe that having quadruplets has fulfilled Fiona’s wish for motherhood and there will be no more little ones joining them. It would be good to have children here again, though.”

“It is a beautiful place,” Johannes said, looking out over the grounds.

“And you can make it no more beautiful than it is?” Siofre asked.

“I would not presume,” Johannes said, “but I can help you to showcase its beauty, perhaps add to it.”

Siofre nodded. “Then I should let you get to work. The day is awasting!”

Johannes was opening the cabinet to look for the earliest plans when Siofre stopped at the door and turned.

“Lunch at noon, Professor.”

Johannes turned and looked back at her, smiling. He nodded. “Danke sehr. Thank you, Madam Tyree.”

“And . . . dinner is at six, if you would care to stay. You could tell me, us, about your recommendations.”

“I would like that, but I do not know whether my recommendations will be complete yet.”

“Your impressions, then.”

He nodded. “My impressions.” He could do that, if he were not entirely overwhelmed by his impression of his hostess. “Yes. Thank you, Madam Tyree.”

She smiled. “Good. Don’t forget the wee ones will be helping you in the gardens later. Call for Multry, their mother, if they become a nuisance.”

Siofre left the library, and Johannes was smiling as he pulled a sheaf of parchments from the cabinet. He would need to impress this witch. Time to get to work.

[dmf1984]

Oh my. I completely adore this update and the idea of the wee house-elf children helping Johannes.

Siofre is one sharp cookie, and Johannes will begin to fear that she is reading his mind if he's not careful!

[Hogwarts Duo]

SQUEEEEEEEE!!!! Johannes has been bitten by the infatuation bug. I won't go so far as to call it the love bug just yet, but it can't be far off. I think he's smitten and it's so adorable. I'd dare to say that Siofre might have a little bit of a twinge towards Johannes, too, given her invitation to dinner. Maybe I'm just reading more into her actions but I do think they're adorable.

[stefdarlin]

Hi there! I really like this new story. ;D I find it very original and I really hope Johannes knows what he is getting into. LOL. Siofre doesn't strike me as a witch to be triffled with, and I bet she always will be a step ahead of him.

I love the way she read him so easily when she invited him in for breakfast. I can't wait to see where this is gonna go.

The other thing I like about it, is that we are seeing a pair of a)your own creation, and b) a different part of the whole that is the RaM universe.

Cheers!!

Stef =o)

[MMADfan]

Thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm enjoying writing this little side fic. It seemed that since Siofre and Johannes were popping up in LVS, it was time to finally tell their story. I hope you like the update!

[MMADfan]

Chapter Three: The Grandson

“She liked your plans? That’s great, mate!” Malcolm exclaimed. He poured two glasses of beer for them before sitting down on the other end of the couch from Johannes. “And she’s going to hire you to do the work, I hope!”

“Yes. As it is such a large commission, I have agreed to limit the other work I do and not take any new commissions. I will continue to make occasional visits to a few gardens that I have worked on in the past and perform maintenance, but I will devote most of my time to the Tyree estate. In fact, Madam Siofre has suggested that I stay there during the week.”

“Really? You must have made quite an impression on Grandmother and Aunt Lydia. They don’t normally have guests. Family, of course, and sometimes friends, but never strangers, and it usually takes years of acquaintance before you go from ‘stranger’ to ‘friend,’ not just a week.”

Johannes smiled. “Your grandmother is a remarkable woman, Malcolm. I hope that I have won her trust.”

“You must have, or she wouldn’t have invited you to stay. Will you be in the lodge, then? It’s been empty for years. It probably needs a lot of work to get it livable, but the house-elves—”

“No, I’ll be in the main house. She is giving me a suite of rooms on the second floor. They are near the second level of the library.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed that.” Malcolm shrugged. “So how’s the work going?”

“Very well. Fandenz and Gweller have been great help, and I have been able to give them many of the basic tasks that need to be done before I can start the new planting. We are laying down new paths now, too, and I hope to have the gardens closest to the house completed soon. I want to create a special play garden for the quads. They are young yet, but I want a good place for them to play, and someplace where they can crawl around now and put things into their mouths without worry, and that I can expand for them as they begin to walk, run, and climb.” He grinned. “I thought a tree house, when they’re old enough. And they can help with it, make it their own special place.”

“You certainly do have long-term plans to work there,” Malcolm said with a laugh. “The quads aren’t even a year old yet.”

Johannes shrugged. “I can return at intervals, if necessary. The grounds will require maintenance. The house-elves can do much of it, of course, but this is a long-term project, in any case. We are considering putting in a greenhouse. There is only so much that one can do with the conservatory and cold frames, even with charms on the cold frames.”

“Sounds like Grandmother Siofre is quite ambitious, then.” Malcolm grinned. “She’ll have her own resident Herbologist-cum-garden-architect. But won’t a commitment like this interfere with your own plans? You’ll hardly be able to establish yourself if you spend all of your time as the Tyree gardener. I thought you were going to look for some land this spring, start your own greenhouse, build up a business.”

“Madam Siofre has given me a generous retainer. When I find the right piece of land, I will be able to buy it.”

“You won’t be able to work on your own land and in your own greenhouse if you’re spending every day working someone else’s, though,” Malcolm pointed out.

Johannes shook his head. “This is a challenge, it is a beautiful place, and if she is pleased with my work, Madam Siofre will provide me a reference. I have a large budget for the gardens there, more than I could spend on my own place now once I pay for the land itself. In the meantime, perhaps I could work something out with Madam Siofre so that I could have a small garden of my own there, one for growing herbs that I could sell to apothecaries.”

“But what about the rest of your life? Your social life? Locked up there all day, every day, won’t you get bored?”

“I am hardly an indentured servant, Malcolm.” He smiled and gestured, both palms open. “I am here visiting you today, for example.”

“I would think that after living where you worked for so many years at Hogwarts, you’d be happy to be able to have your own life for a change, some freedom.”

“It’s different from Hogwarts, obviously. It is a private residence and the work is my own to schedule. And although Morgan and Fiona will be moving in with the quads next month—or possibly taking the old lodge—four ‘wee bairns,’ as your grandmother calls them, is hardly the same as a school full of children.”

“But what about your social life—your social life,” Malcolm said. “Friends . . . maybe a lover, if we can find you the right witch. You can hardly have your social life there, invite anyone home for a drink.”

“As I said, I am not required to be there. I will keep my apartment in Hogsmeade, visit friends, and as for a lover . . .” He shook his head. “I am happy as things are.”

Malcolm shrugged and shook his head. “Living with two old witches, though . . . I love them, and if it weren’t for Trudie working at Hogwarts, I probably would have moved back there instead of buying this place, but they’re family. My family, that is, not yours. I can’t imagine living in someone else’s house with a couple other witches I wasn’t related to.” He grinned quickly and winked. “Well, I can, but they’d be younger, and it wouldn’t be for work, if you know what I mean! And they’d be more than a little bit younger. Did I ever tell you about Victoria and Constance? English witches living in Rome? No? I’ll have to sometime. But that was only for a few weeks. It sounds as though you’re thinking in terms of months.”

“Ja, but these are gardens, plants, with seasons and growing periods. It is not . . . plumbing,” Johannes said with a smile.

Malcolm laughed. “Aye, Grandmother Siofre told me that Aunt Lydia tried to sweet-talk you into looking into her skrechin pipes. I’ve had a couple big jobs down in the Lake District, but I’ll be able to pop up and take a look at the pipes in her wing of the house by the end of the week. We can have a good chin-wag then, and you can tell me if you regret taking on such a massive commission yet. I had thought it would be a good money-maker for you if you were able to win over Grandmother Siofre, but I had no idea that it would be so all-consuming.”

“That is not a bad thing, Malcolm. This winter has been a lean one, and even last summer, I was not as busy as I would have preferred.”

“As long as you’re happy. But if I were you, I’d ask for the lodge and have Morgan, Fiona, and the kiddies move into the main house.”

Johannes shrugged one shoulder. “It is as Madam Siofre wishes. So, you invited me for lunch—is there anything other than this? It is very good beer, do not misunderstand, but now I need something more solid.”

Malcolm grinned. “Glad you like the beer. Brewed it myself. I thought it turned out well. Yes, there’s lunch. It’s cassoulet, salad, and bread, all made by yours truly,” he said, standing. “Mother tried to send me a house-elf, Orents, but not only was I afraid that Fwisky, his mum, would miss him too much, but I kept forgetting he was here. He made himself quite useful without any direction from me, but I am used to being on my own. So now he comes once a week to do some cleaning, checks up on me for Mother.”

As they sat down in the dining room for lunch, another pitcher of beer on the table along side the white bean stew, bread, and salad, Johannes asked, “How is Gertrude?”

“She’s great,” Malcolm replied, serving some cassoulet to his guest. “Great, great, great. She’s coming down for dinner tonight and staying through tomorrow.”

“That is good to hear. Your grandmother mentioned to me that she had hoped you would move to the Tyree place when you settled down. I think she was disappointed that you did not.”

“Did she say that?” Malcolm asked, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it in his cassoulet.

“She did not say that she was disappointed. But she said it had been her hope. I presume that she was disappointed when you did not.”

Malcolm nodded and swallowed his bread. “I suppose. She did invite me to come live there after my year of teaching was over. I’d told her that I wasn’t travelling again right away and wanted to settle down, and so she invited me to join them at the Tyree home, but she didn’t say anything more after I told her that I wanted a place in Hogsmeade that would be easy for Gertrude to visit . . . and where I could see the school and know she was there. Not that I told Grandmother that.” He gave a quick grin. “Sounds pretty silly when I say it out loud.”

“It is romantic,” Johannes said. “It is good that Gertrude has a man with some romance in his heart. I was unsure when I first met you, and not simply because of any personal loss on my part. You seemed . . . what is the expression . . . devil-may-care. To see Gertrude taken with you . . . it was surprising . . . and then you moved very quickly. I worried about her.”

“Oh, I have had my moments of frivolousness, I admit that, but I haven’t been a complete cad in a long, long time. And even then, I was merely young and clueless; I woke up and changed my ways. Not completely, of course. Still liked the lassies.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling.

“Like the English girls in Rome?” Johannes said with a raised eyebrow.

“Mmm . . . lovely witches, they were, too. But we were very clear that we were all just having a bit of fun. I’m sure they have some very pleasant memories.” He winked and took another swallow of beer.

“You seem to have some, too,” Johannes said.

Malcolm shrugged slightly. “I suppose I do, but I don’t think of them. I think of my Trudie and of making her happy,” he said softly.

“And you are staying the course with her. I see that. And I do not feel any need to worry about her any longer.”

Malcolm nodded. “Look, I don’t want to over-talk this, but I am glad to hear that. I know it was hard for you. You and Tru were very close friends. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you.”

“It was not myself that was a concern of mine. It was she. She seems strong, and she is, but . . .”

“I know. Aye, I know,” Malcolm said softly. Gertrude had had too much pain in her life and carried it with her. He looked over at his companion, his vibrant hazel eyes meeting dreamy grey ones. “And you know, too. It was something that you shared . . .” He tore his gaze away and poured himself more beer.

“She seems happy now, though?” Johannes asked.

Malcolm nodded. “I think she does.” His eyes lit up, remembering her last visit to him. “Aye, she is happy. And I am happy, too.”

“I will have another glass of that beer now,” Johannes said “Tell me about those jobs in the Lake District.”

An hour later, Johannes stretched as he stood, and said, “Thank you for the lunch. It was very good.”

“Good to see you. I’m glad you could come. Tell Lydia I’ll be up to see if I can help with her pipes, Thursday, probably. Will you be moved in by then?”

“Ja, on Monday I am moving in.”

“I’ll stay the night, then, and we two can have a bit of a party and you can have a relief from the two Tyree witches,” Malcolm said, leading Johannes down the hall.

Johannes smiled. “Madam Siofre is forever teasing Madam Lydia that she is only a Tyree in name. And I do not believe I need relief from them, but it would be pleasant to spend an evening together—they could join us, if they liked.”

“And I am going to make it my mission to keep your social life vital,” Malcolm said, clapping the other wizard on the shoulder. “And to start that off, we are going on a date next Saturday.”

Johannes stopped and looked at Malcolm, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “Really?”

“Not just the two of us, of course—though I’ve always liked long blond hair!” Malcolm teased. “No, I am going to find you a date, and you, Gertrude, I, and your date—yet to be determined—will go for a night on the town. Not here, though. Diagon Alley, maybe. I’ll think of something. And I’ll find a good date for you. No worries there, mate. A witch with a good brain in her head.”

“I really don’t think so,” Johannes began.

“Don’t worry, nothing heavy, just a fun night out.”

“I don’t need a date,” Johannes started again.

“Don’t think of it as a date, then. Just going out with a couple of old friends and one new one. And keep an open mind about that new one,” Malcolm said. “You never know what can come of a new friendship, after all!”

“We can talk on Thursday. I will give your message to Madam Lydia. Thank you for lunch, Malcolm. Have fun on your jobs this week.”

After the door had closed behind Johannes, Malcolm nodded and said to himself, “Aye, I’ll find you a witch, my friend. You just leave it to me.”

[stefdarlin]

Wow, Malcolm is very tenacious, is he not?? LOL. Poor Johannes, I think he should go ahead and ask Siofre to join them. I wonder what Malcolm might say to that?

I did like how they were so freindly to each other, even after Malcolm won Gertrudes heart instead of Johannes. It gives me the feeling he has moved on and that is good.

Lovely chapter, dear.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

[MMADfan]

Jun 13, 2010 21:26:56 GMT -5 stefdarlin said:

Wow, Malcolm is very tenacious, is he not?? LOL. Poor Johannes, I think he should go ahead and ask Siofre to join them. I wonder what Malcolm might say to that?

I did like how they were so freindly to each other, even after Malcolm won Gertrudes heart instead of Johannes. It gives me the feeling he has moved on and that is good.

Lovely chapter, dear.

Cheers!

Stef =o)

Thanks, Stef! Yes, Johannes and Malcolm became quite good friends – thanks in part to Minerva’s suggestion to Malcolm that he help Johannes look at him as a friend gained, rather than having him see Gertrude as a friend lost.

Malcolm sure is tenacious, and well-meaning, too. Not always very sensible, but his heart’s in the right place.

Thanks for the note! The next chapter will be up very shortly! :-)

[MMADfan]

Chapter Four: The Witches Tyree

“Thank you so much for fixing the catch on my trunk, Professor,” Lydia said with a little laugh. “You truly came to my rescue! I am so glad that I will have my hat for this afternoon!”

Johannes inclined his head. “It was my pleasure, Madam Lydia.”

Siofre raised an eyebrow and took a sip of tea.

“I don’t know how I could have forgotten how that charm worked!” Lydia continued as she poured herself a cup of tea.

“I don’t either,” Siofre said drily, “as you have had that same trunk for the past eighty years.”

“I only use it occasionally, though, and the last time was several months ago.” She laughed. “I guess I’m getting a bit forgetful.”

“Will you have more coffee, Professor?” Siofre asked. “I can call Multry.”

“No, thank you. I wish to work this morning before it rains,” Johannes replied, glancing out the morning room windows at the dark grey sky. “Your daughter’s forecast predicted rain for most of the day.”

Siofre nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to her morning edition of the Dublin Prophet, where Maisie’s “Words for the Weatherwise” had predicted storms for the islands and the Highlands, lasting all day and moving only slowly eastward.

“I hope the storm doesn’t harm your plants!” Lydia exclaimed.

Johannes shook his head. “There will be little damage, I am sure. Good morning, meine Damen.”

When he had left, Siofre let out a snort and lowered her newspaper, looking over it at her sister-in-law. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten how that charm worked!” Siofre said with an exaggerated English drawl and high-pitched giggle. “Honestly, Lydia, whatever are you thinking?”

“I tried and tried to open the trunk last night, and I really do want to wear that hat to tea with Gwyn and Philomena. I couldn’t wait for Malcolm to come tomorrow and fix it.”

“I am sure that one of the elves could have retrieved your hat for you. Or I could have dealt with the clasp.” Siofre pointed her right index finger, let out a little whishing sound from between her teeth, and a small spark glittered at the tip of her finger. “You wouldn’t have had any more bather with it.”

Lydia laughed. “Yes, and it would probably never close properly again, either! You’d do that just to irritate me, I’m sure. He was quite happy to help.”

Siofre shrugged one shoulder and folded her paper. “But inviting the magister into your bedroom to open your trunk—really, Lydia! Do have some discretion, please!” Her burr was more pronounced as her annoyance with her sister-in-law increased.

“Professor Birnbaum is a gentleman,” Lydia said. Her eyes sparkled and she added, “And a very ‘bonny’ one, just as you promised!”

“And young enough to be your son,” Siofre pointed out.

“Oh, lighten up! It’s just nice to have a wizard around the house again.” Lydia picked up a slice of toast and spread elderberry preserves on it. “You enjoy it, too, I can tell.”

“You don’t need to simper so,” Siofre said. “It’s unseemly. He’s only a wizard, after all. Show some decorum.”

“Mmhm,” Lydia murmured sceptically as she swallowed her toast. “And I suppose you move from the morning room to the conservatory to the library every day only to get a new view of the grounds, not to watch our gardener at work.”

“I have work to do,” Siofre said. “I do not have time to read novels all day. And if I happen to glance out the windows occasionally, it is pleasant to see the progress on the gardens. It is also wise to keep an eye out. Remember the roofer.”

“You trust the man, Siofre, or you would not have invited him to stay at the manor. You would have him commuting back and forth daily—and providing his own meals. I think you’re as happy to have the bonny young German here as I am, or more.”

Siofre shook her head and sighed. “You are impossible, Lydia. And just because you’re old enough to be his mother doesn’t mean he’s young.”

“But you can’t deny that he’s handsome, and quite nice to watch at work, too,” Lydia said with an unladylike wink.

Siofre did smile slightly at that. “Nay, I canna deny that.” She glanced out the window just as Johannes was taking off his outer-robe, leaving him in trousers, shirtsleeves, and waistcoat. She watched as he rolled up his sleeves and then crouched to set to work. The corners of her lips twitched. “And I canna deny that his breeks are . . . fetching. But that’s not enough reason to behave like a simpering lass of fifteen.”

“I do wish you’d come with me to tea this afternoon,” Lydia said, changing the subject. “We’re meeting in the Clypeum in Glasgow at three, so you could get some shopping done, too. And you won’t have to step foot out of Scotland.”

Siofre snorted. “You enjoy yourself. The magister will be here this afternoon. We should not leave the house empty.”

“The house-elves are here, and I really don’t think that Professor Birnbaum will be absconding with your Charmed silver or your heirloom linens,” Lydia teased.

“But he has only been here a few days. I would not wish him to feel abandoned in an unfamiliar environment. If it weren’t going to rain and he could work, I might go with you, but I don’t want to leave him alone—and I don’t want to slog around the Clypeum in the wet, either. Next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that!”

“I will be in the library working,” Siofre said as she rose from the table.

“What is it this time?”

“Examining family documents for the Smethwyck dispute.”

“You’re still working on that arbitration? And wouldn’t it be easier to work in your study?”

“They have a lot at stake, and with the oaths they have taken to abide by my judgment, it is beholden upon me to be assiduous and give them a decision they all are able to understand and to which they will acquiesce even an they do not like it. I will be using some historical resources in the library.”

“Have fun!” Lydia pulled her book from her robe pocket and flicked a finger to open it to the last page she’d read.

As she left the morning room, Siofre cast a glance out the window. Johannes was there, standing beside one of the cleared and newly replanted beds, his wand out, a slight smile on his face as he cast charms on the garden, the wind whipping his sandy hair back and reddening his cheeks. Scattered fat drops of rain began to fall, but he continued casting. Siofre turned and headed through the door and up to the library.

~*~*~*~

Siofre raised her head at the sound of Disapparition coming from the ground floor and echoing up the staircase: Lydia off for her afternoon with Philomena Yaxley and Gwynllian Egidius. She looked across the room where Johannes was working on a large plan for the land to the west of the house. He had a Charmed compass and T-square, and he was completely concentrated on his drawing. He hadn’t even twitched at the loud crack made by Lydia’s Disapparition. Siofre turned back to the arcane Smethwyck family testaments.

After a half hour, the rain still pouring down outside, Siofre took off her reading glasses and straightened her papers.

“Professor.”

Johannes raised his head, his soft grey eyes meeting Siofre’s sharp ones. “Yes, Madam Tyree?”

“I am in need of a cup of tea. Would you care to join me in my sitting room?”

Johannes nodded and stood, flicking his wand and rolling up his parchments. “I also would appreciate a cup of tea.”

“Or coffee?”

Johannes smiled. “Tea would be fine. Delightful, in fact, in your company,” he said with a slight bow.

Johannes followed Siofre out of the library; rather than turning to the left and going downstairs to the main sitting room, she led him across the hall, around a corner, and into another hallway, where Johannes had never been, but where he knew her bedroom was. She twitched her wand and opened the first door to her left, revealing a cosy sitting room.

“On a rainy day like this, I find I enjoy a fire,” Siofre said, waving her wand and lighting the logs in the corner fireplace. She turned back to look up at Johannes. “Please, seat yourself. Would you like anything to eat? Sandwiches?”

Johannes shook his head. “Lunch was quite sufficiently filling, thank you. But the tea will help.” He stretched his arms and legs slightly as he lowered himself into an armchair. “The rain tends to make me feel a lethargy.”

Siofre smiled. “You seemed far from lethargic in the library. You were highly concentrated, I thought.”

Johannes tilted his head. “This is important work to me, to do this properly for you.”

Siofre nodded shortly and reached for a bell-rope, then after pulling it, she called out for Multry, who was there a few moments later. Siofre requested a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

“You have made progress, though, both on the plans and on the gardens. You are diligent.”

“I attempt diligence, yes. I hope to have much of the gardens finished by the end of June.”

“Ah, so soon!”

“The initial layout I showed you, around the house, not the greater scheme. That will take much more time. But I will commit myself to it. I will not leave it half-finished. After the major work is done, I will continue to return, do work, charm the gardens, inspect the work of your elves . . . I would not abandon the gardens. Or you.”

“You may stay on as long as you wish. That is, as long as it is more convenient for your work, and there is sufficient work to hold you here.”

Johannes stood and went to the window, pulling back the lacy curtain a bit to look out at the rain. “It is a large work. A large task. There are so many possibilities.”

“After Father died—and that was almost thirty years ago, now—Mother didn’t spend as much time on the grounds. ’Twas something that Murdoch did not care as much about, so he was happy to leave most of it to her. He and Lydia did enjoy the rose garden and the kailyaird—the kitchen garden. Then Murdoch died and it really was all left to Mother. Lydia loves flowers and gardens, but she has a black thumb. It seems everything she touches withers. I think she either smothers them with attention or starves them from neglect, with nothing in between. But Mother did well with it all until the last few years of her life, when she was not strong. She told Mynok and Tastle to concentrate on the conservatory, the cooking herbs, the vegetable plots, and the rose garden. The rest did not go completely untended, of course, but . . . She died in the conservatory, you know. Surrounded by all of her favourite flowers.” Siofre sighed.

“That was recent?” Johannes asked when Siofre didn’t continue.

“About a year before Herbert died.”

“I am sorry,” Johannes said softly.

“It is life. She had a good one.”

Multry popped into the sitting room with a tray. She set everything out on a little table for them, asked if they would like anything else, and then Disapparated with a pop.

“You did not wish to go to tea with Madam Tyree, eh, Madam Lydia?”

“Not today,” Siofre replied. “I had work, and I didn’t care to spend the day out in the rain.”

“It was good to have company as I worked,” Johannes said, seeking Siofre’s assent with a glance as he reached over and poured her tea for her before pouring his own. “The library felt warmer with your presence.”

Siofre handed him the milk. “My study—which is across the hall from this room if you should ever need to find me there—seemed unappealing in this weather, and I knew I would need some of the books from the library.” She took a shortbread when Johannes held the plate toward her. “It was also more congenial. The company as well as the room.”

They each took a bite of shortbread. Johannes smiled. “Multry is a fine cook and an even better bakeress.”

Siofre gave a laugh. “Baker. Just baker. Aye, she has a way with cakes and biscuits.”

“Baker,” Johannes repeated with a smile. “And her breads—I have not had such excellent Rogenbrot—rye bread—since I left home.”

“You still feel Germany is your home, yet you did not return there?”

Johannes shook his head. “I do not know where home is,” he said softly. He paused, listening to the rain that pattered steadily against the window. “I thought I would return. I tried. I explored the idea. I looked at properties there. I was on the edge of buying a greenhouse and a small cottage, but then . . . I do not know. Perhaps I am weak, but I could not. I could not face building a life there again, when in every turn, I hear and see my losses. Without them . . . it is not my home any longer. I left my home one sunny morning, kissed my baby and my wife good-bye, and never returned. When I arrived to what had been my home, it was to find them all dead . . . the house still standing, just as I had left it, but devoid of life, and all the gardens withered and the barn burned, the greenhouse . . . only sand.”

Siofre drank her tea, allowing a silence to fall, broken only by the sound of rain against the window and teacup against saucer, reflecting on what Johannes had told her, until finally she asked, “And Hogwarts?”

“It was a home of sorts . . . it became one. But the last few years that I was there, I felt . . . in limbo. As though I was living a life that was not mine. That makes no sense, I know. It must sound mad.”

“No. It does not sound mad. Madness would be continuing to stay there, abiding in a life that felt not your own.”

Johannes smiled. “I am glad you understand.”

“And now? Does it feel you are living a life that is your own?”

“Yes, and every day, it feels that way increasingly.”

Siofre nodded. “Good.”

“That brings me to a subject . . . one personal request,” Johannes said hesitantly.

“Yes? You wish different rooms? Or to not stay here?”

“No, no, certainly not. But I wonder whether I might start a garden of my own, just for some special medicinal herbs, some potions plants. A small one, but so that I might begin to supply some apothecaries, begin to build a—what is it that Malcolm calls it? A customer basis?”

“A customer base,” Siofre said with a nod. “Aye, that would be prudent. It would tie you here at least for the season, though. If that is agreeable to you, then you may plant your garden. Choose your plot as you wish.”

“Thank you, Madam Tyree. I will, of course, give you a percentage, whatever you believe is fair—”

“Nay. No need for that. It will be yours to work as you wish. Consider it a part of your compensation.”

“You are generous. Thank you.”

Siofre dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. “We are fortunate to have a talented Herbology master devoting his time to our gardens.”

“It is not only a challenge, but a pleasure, I assure you.”

“I am glad. We want you to feel at home here,” Siofre replied.

“You know, I do.”

“More tea?” Siofre asked, reaching for the pot, but looking at him.

Johannes’s gaze met hers. He felt his heart seem to skip a beat. She had the most captivating eyes . . .

“Professor, more tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” He smiled. A bit of garden of his own, a roof over his head, challenging and invigorating work, and this witch, this zesty Scottish witch, for occasional company. Yes, he was beginning to feel at home. Quite at home.

[Hogwarts Duo]

I am enjoying this story very much. It's so fun to see Johannes smitten with Minerva's grandmother, awwww. Lydia has got to get a grip, though it's fun to see Siofre's reaction. I can't wait to see what happens when Johannes and Siofre start to grow closer together and eventually become a couple. tee hee.

I think I had a goofy grin on my face the whole time I was reading this chapter. Great job!

[MMADfan]

Thanks, Ang, for your review! I'm glad you're having fun with it and liking the two Tyree witches! ;D

Here's the next chapter for everyone! Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Five: Blind Date

Johannes checked himself in the mirror one more time, then sighed. He never should have agreed to Malcolm’s idea. His barmy idea, to use one of Dumbledore’s favourite expressions. Johannes doubted that he’d enjoy his visit with Gertrude and Malcolm with some strange witch along for the evening. He hadn’t seen Gertrude since her birthday party in January, and he had hoped that the three of them could just have a nice relaxed evening together. But Malcolm would not be dissuaded, and so Johannes was going on a blind date. He didn’t know which was worse, having to have a blind date with his two friends along or having to sacrifice his evening with his two friends by having a blind date.

He shrugged on a long, loose-fitting grey woollen coat, patted his pocket to check for his wallet, then grasped his wand and Disapparated for Diagon Alley, where he was to meet Malcolm, Gertrude, and his mysterious date. Other than reassuring him that it wasn’t one of his former students—the thought of which appalled Johannes—Malcolm would not let on who the witch was, or even whether Johannes was already acquainted with her.

Johannes wound his way through the Saturday evening crowds and headed toward the Leaky Cauldron. Malcolm had said that they would start there, have a quick drink, and then go on to the Phoebus Café, which was going to have live music that night—some friends of Malcolm’s who played folk music. After that, Malcolm thought they might go out dancing at the Glimmer Room in Cardiff, which would necessitate Flooing, unless they didn’t drink. Johannes thought he might bow out before that, although he did not want to be rude to whatever witch Malcolm had enticed into accompanying them that evening. He supposed she was likely nervous, as well, and perhaps even less pleased with the prospect of a blind date than he was. Presumably, the witch knew Malcolm well enough to feel sure that he wouldn’t set her up with a wizard who wasn’t a gentleman.

Johannes spotted Gertrude first, her height and her grey hair making her easy to see in the crowded pub. Her back was to him, though, and Malcolm, who was standing beside her at the bar, turned and saw Johannes before she did. Malcolm’s smile was instantaneous, and Johannes smiled in return.

Malcolm took a few steps towards him, meeting him with a cheery greeting and a pat on the shoulder. “Come meet a friend of mine, Johannes,” Malcolm said, as though it hadn’t all been planned in advance. “Katherine, this is Johannes Birnbaum. Johannes, Katherine Fellows.” He presented Johannes to a slim, brown-haired witch with gold-brown eyes and a bright, lively expression.

Johannes took Katherine’s extended hand and made a quick, shallow bow. “Madam Fellows, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Katherine smiled. “Katherine, please.”

“Katherine.”

“Katherine’s an Auror, but one of the decent ones. We went to school together,” Malcolm said.

Johannes nodded and was saved from having to think of a response by Gertrude, who placed her hand on his arm and said, “It is good to see you. I’m glad you could come out tonight.”

Johannes bent his head and kissed Gertrude’s cheek. “I have been busy, Gott sei dank, and have not spent much time at home recently, either.”

Malcolm popped a nut into his mouth and said to Katherine, “Honnie’s taken a commission with my grandmother. He’s quite in demand.”

“You are a Herbologist, right?” Katherine asked. “And you were Head of Ravenclaw for several years, weren’t you?”

“Ja—a beer, please,” Johannes said to the bartender when he came up. “Lager.” He turned back to Katherine. “Yes, I was Head of Ravenclaw for a while.”

“I was in Ravenclaw, actually.” She grinned slightly. “I suppose I still am. They say the Houses are for life, after all.”

Johannes inclined his head. “That is what is said.”

Johannes was grateful when his beer came and he had something to occupy himself. He glanced over at Gertrude. She seemed much the same as she always did in public; it was unlikely they would have their opportunity for a good conversation that evening. He would have to make a point of visiting her at Hogwarts one evening. An evening when the Tyrees were out of the house, perhaps. Or when Siofre was. Despite wanting to catch up with Gertrude, Johannes disliked the thought of sacrificing an evening when he might see Siofre, even if just at the dining table. Lydia was sweet and amusing, too, and he was pleased to play along with her, and he enjoyed seeing her tease Siofre, but it was the thought of Siofre’s company that caused his heart to beat faster and his mouth to go dry. He took a long drink of beer.

He and Siofre were both early risers, and her company at breakfast had already become a staple of his day. The prospect of seeing her was his first thought upon waking each morning, and when he had woken that morning in his own bedroom in Hogsmeade, he’d felt deflated when he realised that he would be breakfasting alone that day. He was on commission for them, he had reminded himself as he ate cheese and flat bread with black coffee for his solitary breakfast. Their gardener, basically.

“What do you think, Johannes?” Malcolm asked.

Johannes, who had only heard half the conversation, had no thoughts at all on whatever the topic was, since he hadn’t been paying attention. He shrugged. “There is not a single right answer, I think.”

Gertrude shot him a smile as though she knew that he hadn’t been paying attention. “A diplomatic response,” she said. She looked around. “It is becoming noisy here. Shall we go on to the café?”

As they made their way back down Diagon Alley toward the Phoebus Café, Gertrude somehow manoeuvred so that she and Johannes were walking a few steps behind Katherine and Malcolm, who were chattering away about old friends.

“You look well, Johannes.”

He nodded. “I feel well.” He smiled at her. “You look very well, yourself, Gertrude.”

“I am happy that it is now finally the Easter holiday.” She gave a sideways grin. “It is not even particularly late this year, but it felt a long time coming. It was a long winter this year.”

“You have plans for tomorrow?”

“Yes. Malcolm and I are going to the estate for the day. It is a sacrifice for Malcolm, but he’s being a good sport about it.”

“How a sacrifice?”

“Dressing up, being on his best behaviour, not having me all to himself . . .” She paused. “And a lot of my extended family will be there.”

“Ah.”

“Ah,” Gertrude agreed with a nod.

“He can play at pureblood, I am sure,” Johannes said. “And I suppose he is one, technically, although he’d never say so much.”

“Yes, but Quin will be there, and they always goad each other into worse and worse behaviour.” Gertrude’s lips twitched in amusement. “They are like a couple of little boys. You were there at the picnic in August.”

“I believe they disrupted the croquet game and completely scandalised the Blacks, Rosiers, and various Yaxleys. Your mother seemed amused, though,” Johannes said.

“Mm. Full grown men playing Shuntbumps with both wizards dressed in kilts? Yes, she was amused initially. Less so when Shuntbumps degenerated further to a wrestling match, both wizards falling off their broomsticks and continuing the match in the middle of the lawn, scattering the croquet balls and the players. They were both a mess.” She shook her head in exasperation, but was grinning at the memory. “They hardly set a good example for the kids.”

“I believe Alroy was embarrassed.”

“At the age Alroy is, nothing Quin does could fail to embarrass him,” Gertrude said. “And having his father . . . flashing his goods to the world as he falls from his broomstick, that was ‘fatal,’ as Alroy told me most melodramatically later that afternoon.”

Johannes smiled. “But it is something that Alroy would have found amusing to do himself, I am sure.”

“Like father, like son, they say.”

“A chip off the old brick,” Johannes agreed.

“Block, old block,” Gertrude said. “Yes. Say, do you have plans for tomorrow? Easter dinner? I should have asked you earlier.”

“I have no plans. I was going to go over to the Three Broomsticks. Yes, I will come. I will try to be a good influence on your two boys,” Johannes said with a smile. “When should I arrive?”

“I’m staying in Hogsmeade with Malcolm tonight, and we’re Flooing through from the house at eleven. Come by and we’ll all go together.”

“Very good.”

“I’ll be in Hogsmeade for the entire holiday. You should come over to the house, come for dinner. Bring a date, if you like,” Gertrude said.

“I am staying at the Tyree estate during the week. But I could still come over one evening. It is an easy Apparition to Hogsmeade, not far.”

“You aren’t taking a holiday at all? Not even Easter Monday?”

“No, not now. I only started the work. There is too much to do. In the winter, there will be less work. I can think then about a holiday.”

“You must take a few days in July, though, and come down to the estate. I’m sure they’ll manage without you for that long by then.”

“Of course.”

They reached the café, and Malcolm opened the door for them. The musicians were just setting up, and as the others were seated at a small round table, Malcolm wandered over to talk to his friends.

Johannes held Katherine’s chair for her, and she looked up and smiled at him. He nodded and returned her smile as he sat down between her and Gertrude.

“So you have known our Malcolm for a long time,” Johannes said, trying to start a conversation that would include Katherine.

“Yes, I suppose you could say that,” Katherine replied. “We were in classes together at Hogwarts right from the beginning, of course, and I was Chaser on the Ravenclaw team and he was Beater on his, but we didn’t really get to know each other well until fifth year, when we were paired up in Potions. He used to drive me crazy, always wanting to try out the strangest ‘novel ingredients,’ as he would put it. I thought I was going to Troll out in Potions all because of him and his tossing bits of things into our potions just to see what would happen—and it was never good!”

“But you did not?” Johannes asked.

Katherine shook her head and grinned. “We found some room for compromise, and he stopped sabotaging our potions.”

“What was the compromise?” Gertrude asked as they accepted menus from the wait-witch.

“Oh, that I would spend time with him one Hogsmeade weekend, which turned into almost every Hogsmeade weekend for the next year.” Katherine gave a sideways grin. “He was the first boy to give me a truly memorable kiss. And it was memorable for the right reasons.”

Gertrude chuckled. “Ah, so were you the Chaser Malcolm chased? He mentioned something about that. Harder to catch than a Golden Snidget, he said.”

Katherine laughed. “I suppose so, although there may have been another, too. You never know with Malcolm.”

“What do you never know with me?” Malcolm asked as he came over and sat down across from Johannes.

“Oh, in this case, how many Chasers you’ve chased, or who have chased you!” Katherine teased, her eyes sparkling.

Malcolm picked up his menu and with an insouciant air said, “I don’t know whatever you could be talking about.” He quirked a grin and added, “I’m not saying that I haven’t known a pretty Chaser or two, and come to know them rather well, but as for the chasing part, well, Katherine was the only Chaser I ever had to chase down. I became a bit more adept at charming rather than chasing after that, and I’ve never been so fortunate as to have a Chaser chase me . . . but there was a very cute little Finnish Seeker several years back. I did feel a bit like the Snitch in her game.” He winked. “Not saying that was a bad thing, mind you!”

Gertrude rolled her eyes, Katherine laughed, and Johannes smiled slightly.

“And only one witch has managed to catch me, to really capture me and hold me.” He reached over and took Gertrude’s hand. “Katherine, meet the witch who tamed the wild McGonagall.” He gazed at Gertrude with a soft, affectionate smile.

“It sounds as though you had your work cut out for you,” Kathryn said to Gertrude with a grin.

“It wasn’t hard. He dug a hole and fell in it himself,” Gertrude said with a wry grin and squeezing Malcolm’s hand. “He didn’t look where he was going.”

“But I ended up right where I wanted to be, so it all turned out well,” Malcolm added.

The wait-witch came up, took their orders, and promised that their drinks would be brought over to the table soon.

“What about you, Johannes?” Kathryn asked. “Been lucky in love?”

“I was once very lucky in love . . . but my wife was not so lucky,” Johannes said. He looked down and straightened his silverware.

Before Katherine’s puzzlement could be expressed in words, Gertrude broke in, “She was a very lucky witch to have had you in her life, Johannes. I am sure of that.” She turned to Katherine. “Grindelwald was after Johannes. Would have likely kidnapped him and tried to force him to work for him, since Johannes had declined his ‘request’ to join him. When they didn’t find Johannes at home, they killed his family and destroyed his farm.”

“Oh, I am so very sorry,” Katherine said softly. “I was an Auror then, assigned to the war effort, so I know what kinds of things Grindelwald did to those who wouldn’t join him when asked.”

Malcolm, trying to gently steer the conversation away from painful topics, said, “Katherine and I actually were on a few missions together. She was always the master of strategy. We had a bit of fun going Dark Wizard hunting, didn’t we, Kate?”

“Yes, and some of it wasn’t so fun,” she replied, accepting her glass of white wine from the wait-witch and taking a long sip.

“In fact, Katherine was there at the end. The ultimate mission. Missed out on that one myself,” Malcolm said. “It was official, and I don’t do ‘official.’”

“You were with Dumbledore when he defeated Grindelwald?” Johannes asked.

“Oh, yes. And spent a few of what I hope remain the most miserable days of my life . . . almost quit the Aurors then. But after some time at St. Mungo’s and more time with my mum and dad at the seaside, I was so bored, I was happy to get back to work.”

Johannes smiled. “Work is always the best tonic for what ails, I find for myself.”

Katherine nodded and accepted the basket of bread that Malcolm passed her. “I know. I’m the same way. Take my work away, and I become depressed,” she said as she buttered a roll. “But as I was telling Malcolm a couple days ago, I’m thinking of breaking out on my own. I need some new challenges, and the way things are going in the Ministry right now, I’m not likely to find them there.”

“I told her I could give her referrals,” Malcolm said. “I do some investigations on the side, as you know, usually simple jobs, like finding errant husbands—or wives—or recovering stolen property, but some of it can be a challenge. I’d be happy to throw some of those jobs your way, Katherine, or bring you in on them. I have more than enough to do with the various beasts, pests, and curses to take care of.”

“I still haven’t completely decided whether I’m going to make the leap or not. It’s a big decision with a lot to consider.”

“You Ravenclaws, always so cautious, have to examine things from every angle—twice—and then you still aren’t sure,” Malcolm said.

“Not so, we just don’t dive in head first like some Gryffindors,” Katherine countered.

The argument was interrupted by the arrival of their meals; a few minutes later, the musicians began to play, and conversation was sporadic and focussed on the food and the music. Their dessert arrived as the musicians were taking a break, and over chocolate souffle, walnut torte, and vanilla ice cream with fresh berries, the four chatted generally about various things, and Malcolm asked whether anyone was up for dancing at the Glimmer Room. Although Johannes had found Katherine a pleasant witch, he didn’t want to extend the evening beyond dinner, and he didn’t want to give Katherine any idea that he might be interested in her romantically, so he demurred, claiming fatigue. It turned out that Katherine lived in London not far from Diagon Alley, and she also preferred to go home rather than go to the Glimmer Room, though Johannes was unsure whether that was because she did not want to go or because he was not going and she felt like she’d be a third wheel going along with Malcolm and Gertrude.

Katherine was going to leave through the Leaky Cauldron and walk home, so the four walked back down to the pub together. Johannes had drunk very little, and since his flat wasn’t on the Floo Network and he would have to Floo to the Three Broomsticks and then walk home, he decided instead to Apparate, but he accompanied the other three down to the pub anyway.

After Gertrude and Malcolm had Flooed to the Glimmer Room, Johannes turned to Katherine. “Would you like me to see you home?”

“No, that’s all right, thanks. It’s a nice night and I’ll enjoy the walk. I’ve done it many times before.”

“If you will be fine . . .”

“Auror, remember? I’ll be fine. Thanks, though. You are a gentleman, just as Malcolm assured me. It was good to meet you.”

Johannes nodded once. “Likewise.”

“I’m sure we’ll run into each other again sometime. Good night, Johannes.”

“Good night.” He watched her leave the pub, then he exited back to Diagon Alley, where he immediately Disapparated for his flat.

Katherine was pleasant, and if it hadn’t been a “blind date,” with all the implications that held for him, he would not have minded seeing her again sooner than just “sometime,” but only as a friend. She was nice looking, intelligent, almost his own age, and independent—which he liked in a woman—and she seemed to be a kind person, as well. Nonetheless, he felt no spark with her, and certainly no strong desire to spend more time with her.

Johannes was relieved that the evening hadn’t been torturous, and was happy, too, that it had come to a natural, and relatively early, end. The next day was Easter Sunday, and if he were going to accompany Gertrude and Malcolm to the Gamp estate in the morning—likely to watch youngsters rolling Easter eggs or some such thing—then he wanted to pack up a few books and other things that he’d left in his flat and had missed at the Tyree estate. He hadn’t told Siofre or Lydia when he would return, and he hoped that his arrival on Sunday evening, Easter Sunday evening, would not be an inconvenience for them. He could go straight to his suite of rooms if they had guests or were out themselves.

Johannes smiled to himself. He had a lot to look forward to: an Easter Sunday at the Gamp estate with some of his closest friends present—and a few rather odious acquaintances, as well, but that could not be helped—followed by his return to the Tyree estate and the prospect of breakfast with Siofre on Monday morning. His new life was shaping up quite well.

---

Author’s Note: To see the first time that Johannes and Siofre met, read “A Spree with Albus,” available on my WordPress site under the “Read Some Fanfic Now” tab, or read the chapter in Resolving a Misunderstanding, “A Spree,” which is available on the Petulant Poetess and elsewhere.

[stefdarlin]

Chapter 4: Or did I review over on TPP? I have this odd feeling that I did review this somewhere, but since I don't see it here, I am leaving one now.=o) *Scratches head*

I love the way Lydia does what she does to Johannes and get him involved in her life. Siofre's reaction to him opening Lydia's trunk is priceless and made me giggle. I can't tell if Lydia is doing things intentionally to get closer to Johannes or because she truly forgot things. But it does seem like she is trying to get closer to our dear Herbologist.

I am glad to see they spent the day together, Siofre and Johannes. I am looking forward to seeing more as their relationship grows. =o)

Chapter 5: You describe the blind date as if you may have had a few. Tee hee! JK. I have never been envious of blind dates. *Shudder* You never know what you are going to get or meet. But Johannes handled it quite well.

I am sort of glad they didn't hit it off though, sorry. But in my thinking, that just leaves the way clear for Johannes and Siofre. Thanks for the update.

Cheers,

Stef =o)

[MMADfan]

Jun 18, 2010 20:56:03 GMT -5 stefdarlin said:

Chapter 4: Or did I review over on TPP? I have this odd feeling that I did review this somewhere, but since I don't see it here, I am leaving one now.=o) *Scratches head*

I love the way Lydia does what she does to Johannes and get him involved in her life. Siofre's reaction to him opening Lydia's trunk is priceless and made me giggle. I can't tell if Lydia is doing things intentionally to get closer to Johannes or because she truly forgot things. But it does seem like she is trying to get closer to our dear Herbologist.

I am glad to see they spent the day together, Siofre and Johannes. I am looking forward to seeing more as their relationship grows. =o)

Chapter 5: You describe the blind date as if you may have had a few. Tee hee! JK. I have never been envious of blind dates. *Shudder* You never know what you are going to get or meet. But Johannes handled it quite well.

I am sort of glad they didn't hit it off though, sorry. But in my thinking, that just leaves the way clear for Johannes and Siofre. Thanks for the update.

Cheers,

Stef =o)

I think that you just thought really hard about reviewing Chapter Four, ’cause this is the first one I’ve seen! I’m glad you enjoyed it.

Lydia does enjoy life and likes to have a bit of fun, and sometimes that fun includes teasing Siofre! Haha! She also is good at trying to make Johannes feel at home and part of the household, not just “the gardener,” lol!

As for blind dates, I’ve had a couple, and they tend to be tedious. This went pretty well for Johannes, considering it was a blind date. But other than both being Ravenclaws and being close in age, they didn’t have much in common, and there was no “spark,” either. Enough for a casual friendship, but not much more.

Thanks for the reviews!

[MMADfan]

Chapter Six: The Garden in the Afternoon

“I will meet you in the garden at three, then,” Siofre said briskly.

“Very good. I will be in the gardens on the east side of the house near the pond,” Johannes replied. He turned to Lydia. “Enjoy your afternoon, Madam Lydia.”

Lydia heaved a great sigh. “Hardly. Siofre’s making me work on the books this afternoon.” She made a face. “I hate that.”

“I’ll do the calculations for you, hen, but I need you to make sure the records are complete. You’re the only one who can tell. You have a mind like a goblin-made trap—you don’t miss a detail. You just occasionally forget to note things down.”

“I hate maths. Maths makes me sleepy and I itch all over. I think I’m allergic,” Lydia said.

Siofre barked a laugh. “And that is why I will do the calculations, as always. You’d think we didn’t do this every month.”

“I do my very best to forget,” Lydia said pitifully.

Johannes left the two witches to their minor squabbling in the family dining room and went through to the music room, then to the conservatory, and out through the south-facing French doors. He took the path into the gardens to the east of the house, feeling the perfect new silvery pea stones crunch satisfyingly underfoot.

A month’s work had already transformed the grounds around the house, and Johannes was pleased with the progress they had made. Siofre often joined him for an hour or so in the morning now before she began her own work, and sometimes later in the day, he would come around a corner and find her with Fandenz, working some spot that he hadn’t got to yet. She said it was a good break for her, being outdoors in the fresh air. It cleared her head.

Johannes took pleasure in the progress and in Siofre’s occasional companionship, but as he worked, he felt that the time was coming closer for his departure from the Tyree home, and that saddened him. There was still enough work left to keep him there through most of the summer, and even after that, he would have to return frequently right through the autumn and beyond. But he could not stay on indefinitely.

He rarely saw Siofre in the afternoons. She would be in her study or in the library, or off meeting clients, though she never called them such. Johannes was unsure what she did, it seemed to vary so much from client to client, but it seemed that all sought her advice or her skills with Charms. Occasionally, she would even go off with Malcolm for a day, returning home late, drained and exhausted, but glowing and happy. A few times, Malcolm returned with her and stayed the night, and he and Johannes lounged by the fire in his sitting room, talking until late.

Johannes worried about Siofre going on jobs with Malcolm, but he knew that Malcolm adored his grandmother and wouldn’t expose her to any true danger. Not if he could help it. But Malcolm, as powerful and intelligent as he was, was a Gryffindor, and Johannes had come not to completely trust a Gryffindor to do the sensible thing. Malcolm could make a mistake that he would come to regret for the rest of his life. Malcolm had reassured Johannes that he never brought his grandmother into any real danger; they were just jobs that he couldn’t do on his own, where he needed help and knew that his grandmother was the perfect person to lend him a hand. Besides, she clearly enjoyed it, and Malcolm said that he sometimes even learned something new from her. Johannes had to presume that Siofre could take care of herself—indeed, he did presume that, but it somehow didn’t keep him from worrying.

So between Siofre’s activities and his own work outdoors, Johannes often didn’t see Siofre between breakfast and dinner, except occasionally at lunch. That day, however, Siofre would be home and had declared it a day for dealing only with the Tyree estate, and not with anyone else’s. She had made plans to take Johannes out to a part of the grounds he hadn’t seen yet. The property extended several miles to the north and the east, and was bounded to the west and the south by the sea. The turrets had an excellent view of the sea, and in the afternoon, the water would seem to flash and glitter in the distance. He had not yet walked down to the sea, however, and although he had seen the water from the northwest turret, the shore was not visible, hidden by the rising and falling and rising again of the land between house and sea.

He also had only ventured a mile or so into the woody hills that rose even higher in the north, and had walked only to the perimeter of the lands cultivated and subdued to the east. Beyond that were woods, fields, streams, left to nature for all the generations of Tyrees who had lived and loved that land, a home away from home, one foothold of the Tyree clan in the Highlands. There was another one even further to the north, more Tyree cousins, and southwest of the island of Tiree Beag, another branch of the family had settled in County Meath. But this was the largest Tyree home outside of Tiree Beag; more correctly, it was the largest property owned by Tyrees outside of Tiree Beag. Until about two hundred years before, it had also been home to the most Tyrees not living on the island. But gradual assimilation with the rest of wizarding Britain and a decreased birthrate had conspired to make this large estate home now only to two Tyree witches, and one of them a Tyree by marriage.

Morgan and Fiona would be moving into the old lodge in a few days, and they and their quadruplets—two sets of identical twins, Branwen and Morgana, and David and Aiden—would raise the population, but they weren’t Tyrees. Johannes had begun to understand Siofre’s disappointment that Connor Tyree had moved to Cumberland so that he and Elisabeth could be near her family. It was less that he had moved to England—though that irked her—than that he was not carrying on the family there on the Tyree land. It had pleased Siofre that her grandson Morgan and his family would be moving to the estate, but although they were family and Siofre loved them dearly—especially the babies, the boys with their baby blond hair and the girls with their soot black hair—it wasn’t quite the same.

Johannes didn’t know what part of the grounds Siofre was going to show him. Most of the grounds were to be left to nature, as they had been for decades, and the ones that weren’t, he had already seen, surveyed, and incorporated most of it into his plans. He knew that Siofre wanted him to do something different around the lodge now that Morgan and his family were moving in, and to begin work on that in the next couple days. However, he had already created new plans for the lodge gardens and Siofre and Fiona had both liked them, so he doubted that Siofre was going to bring him there—besides, she had clearly said that it was going to be a new area, one he hadn’t visited yet.

Johannes was preparing the pond for a new distribution of water plants when he heard Siofre’s step approaching on the winding path, and he turned just as she came around some bushy junipers.

He lowered his wand and bowed slightly. “Madam Tyree.”

Her lips turned a smile. “Professor.”

He gestured toward the pond. “It will soon be ready for the water lilies and lobelia.”

“As when I was a lass,” Siofre said, smiling.

“I am keeping much rushes, though, here and along the edge opposite,” Johannes said, pointing. “They are good for the animals, for the fowl and fishes, to have them here.”

Siofre nodded. “That is a very good idea. And they are beautiful in their own way, as well.”

“I think that when the children arrive, there should be a . . . a perimeter ward. An alarm or a . . . a barrier. They do not walk yet, but when they do, the pond could be an attraction to them. Until they are older, they should not come here alone, do you agree?” Johannes asked.

“Aye, most certainly,” Siofre agreed. “It is good of you to think of these things.”

“It is my work for you to consider all aspects of your gardens,” Johannes said. “However, I think perhaps someone else might be better suited to creating such a ward. I could do it, and will if you wish, but it is not my forté.”

“It is something I can cast,” Siofre said. “I have a lot of practice with such charms. I can make the pond dull for them, charm it uninteresting, and then still cast an age-sensitive alarm ward at one perimeter and another barrier ward a bit closer to the pond. Before they could reach the water’s edge, a house-elf or one of us would be there to keep them from straying into the water.”

“It sounds ideal,” Johannes said. He touched the front of his heavy canvas apron. “You are showing me some other part of the grounds now?”

“Aye.” She reached out and Summoned his over-robe from where it lay draped across the back of a bench, holding it for him as he pulled off the work apron.

“Thank you.” Johannes took the over-robe with its leafy green woven pattern and slipped it on, fastening the hook at the waist.

“Before I bring you where we are heading, show me your garden.”

“It is not much to see yet,” Johannes said, “but of course I will show you.”

They walked back toward the house, skirting the formal gardens, where they could hear Fandenz and Mynok at work. As they passed the house, they could hear Lydia in the music room playing a Chopin etude. Siofre indicated with a slight gesture that she wanted to walk through the kitchen gardens, so they walked around the conservatory to the gardens at the back of the house.

Siofre smiled. “The kailyaird looks beautiful,” she said as they walked. “And my mouth already waters at the thought of the vegetables we will have all this summer.”

“I expanded the variety, as you know. You must let me know which ones you prefer, or if there are any you do not like, and we can adjust next year. Or Mynok and Fandenz can, of course.”

“Is it dull for you to do such mundane gardening after your work at Hogwarts?”

“Not at all,” Johannes replied. “I oversaw the vegetable gardens at Hogwarts, too, although there really was little for me to do, other than cast the occasional charm or recommend a particular potion if there were a pest to deter, since the Hogwarts elves and Hagrid did a good job of it. And I have always enjoyed ornamental planting, whether the plants were magical or mundane. I expanded the Hogwarts flower gardens when I was there. I believe that Professor Sprout plans to keep them. And there are many mundane plants with uses in potions, as you know.”

“I do a little brewing, myself,” Siofre said. “Just a few of the standard household potions, but I enjoy it, and it is particularly satisfying when some of the ingredients are ones I have picked myself from my own gardens.”

They exited the kitchen gardens through an opening in the wall bordering it on one side, and Johannes led Siofre down to his garden. It was only a half acre, enclosed by a hedge of Flutterby bushes and Flitterbloom, but he had planted cleverly and made the best use of space that he could. There were already many full-grown plants, since he had purchased or bartered for seedlings from a friend with a commercial greenhouse, and Siofre was impressed.

“Fanged Geranium,” she remarked as she stepped out of the way of one particularly lively flower. “Not one of my favourite flowers, I must say.”

Johannes chuckled. “They are useful, however, and pretty at a distance.”

“At least they don’t try to follow a body,” Siofre said. “Mother had a problem with leaping toadstools some years ago. I tried to tame them for her, corral them, but they followed me all the way up to the house, and there we were, all of us besieged by the annoying wee things. Couldn’t go anywhere on the grounds without some of them following. Malcolm finally paid us a visit, came back from some southern lands, and took care of them. It took him two days. I hope you don’t have any leaping toadstools in your garden!”

“In fact, I do, but they are in a well-charmed area,” Johannes said, pointing to an area shaded by an awning and a couple arbors. “They are happiest in shade, so I have also provided them with protection from the direct sun. They will not be escaping, I promise. And if any do, by some peculiar chance, I am adept at lulling them and relocating them.”

They walked through a portion of the garden that contained both mundane and magical herbs, and Siofre inhaled deeply. “Lovely mixture of fragrances.”

“It is.”

“You know, I still have the Memory Plant you gave me,” Siofre said. “It is doing well, although I keep it in my bedroom. I repotted it last summer, and it grew more, but then in the winter, it seemed less robust than it had. It seems to have recovered this spring. Do you think it should be relocated to the conservatory?”

“I do not know. If your bedroom has sufficient light during the day and it does not become either too cold or too warm, then the plant should do fine there.”

“I keep it on my bedside table until the days are very short, then I move it to the window. Was that an error?”

“It was good to give it better light, but it may be cooler near the window. That is easily remedied, however. So this winter, you may wish either to move the Memory Plant to the conservatory or cast a charm on the window and another on the surrounding area.”

“I will remember that,” Siofre said. She looked up at the tall wizard. “It was a very kind and thoughtful gesture, giving me the Memory Plant after Herbert died. I appreciated it very much.”

“I thought it might ease your days some, and if you wished, you could have Murdoch brew you a potion from some of its leaves, as well.”

Siofre nodded. “I have not yet had him brew me any potion from it, although I did allow him to harvest some of the leaves last year when he could not find a supply elsewhere. And it did ease my days, but its soothing fragrance also helped me to sleep better than I believe I would have. That was a blessing.”

“I am very glad,” Johannes said. The two stepped out of the Herbologist’s garden, and he said, “You wished to show me something new today?”

Siofre smiled. “Something old, actually, and also bring you to another part of the grounds to show them to you, if that is amenable to you—if you have the time this afternoon.”

“My time is yours today, Madam Tyree,” Johannes said with a slight bow.

Siofre smiled. “Good, then we will spend the rest of the afternoon together and return for dinner.” She turned toward the house and raised her wand, sounding a light but reverberating chime. “Multry!” Looking back up at Johannes, she said, “Multry is occupied with Kilbeena and Duster at the moment, but I have a task for her that they may wish to help her with.”

A few moments later, Multry appeared with a sharp crack. “Madam Siofre wishes something?”

“Aye.” Siofre placed a hand on Multry’s shoulder and walked a few feet away. The two held a brief low conversation, then Multry Disapparated.

Siofre stepped back toward Johannes. “Come, lad, and we will pay our first visit. I will value your opinion. This way.” She gestured and began walking down the path toward a heavily wooded area to the southwest. Johannes followed.

---

Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing this little fic! I appreciate it very much. I’m happy that Johannes, Siofre, Gertrude, Malcolm, and Lydia have some friends out there!

[OSUSprinks]

Okay Chapter one read through. I am looking forward to seeing how this "familiarity" with the gardener develops. lol Siofre and Johannes are both such great characters. I am looking forward to seeing what you do with them!

[OSUSprinks]

Chapter Two: Okay, I knew that in order to have house-elf adults, there must be children, but I had never really thought of it! They seem adorable! I can't wait to read more about them.

Johannes is definitely in much like. I wonder how much Siofre knows and guesses about that. The idea of them together is so sweet. I am looking forward to seeing what Lydia's reaction will be. Thanks for sharing!

[OSUSprinks]

lol. Ohhh, Malcolm. He is going to be in for a bit of a surprise, isn't he? I couldn't help but laugh at his description of Johannes' life at the Tyree estate.

This date should be quite interesting.

[OSUSprinks]

Chapter 4: Oh I love Johannes. He is such a sweet man and he has been through so much. I am glad he is beginning to feel at home somewhere. It is sweet that they both enjoy being around each other, even when they were working on their own projects. It seems like the beginning of something beautiful!

I love your stories. It is so great to see you do something with characters that are completely and totally your own. I can't wait to read more!

[OSUSprinks]

Chapter 5: I should have trusted Malcolm to pick a level headed girl for Johannes to go on a blind date with, but I was still nervous for him. I loved that they had once dated, even if it was in school. The man really has been around, hasn't he?

I love the little details you put in your stories. Things such as "wait-witch" aren't big things, but it makes the world seem much more authentic.

[OSUSprinks]

Chapter 6: I am a fan! I am enjoying the slow, easy pace of this story. It fits the characters - silly Ravenclaws - well. I should write more, but I am about to crash from all the sugar I had while watching Toy Story 3 in 3d tonight, so let me just say that I am really enjoying this Madam! I can't wait to read more.

[MMADfan]

Jun 24, 2010 23:38:45 GMT -5 OSUSprinks said:

Chapter 6: I am a fan! I am enjoying the slow, easy pace of this story. It fits the characters - silly Ravenclaws - well. I should write more, but I am about to crash from all the sugar I had while watching Toy Story 3 in 3d tonight, so let me just say that I am really enjoying this Madam! I can't wait to read more.

Thank you, Sprinkles! I’m glad you enjoyed the chapters and like seeing the two Ravenclaws getting to know each other! :-)

I think that Siofre is beginning to become a tad “familiar” with the “gardener.” What do you think?

Thanks again for all the reviews!

Thanks to Ang, too!

[MMADfan]

Chapter Seven: A Folly

Siofre and Johannes walked through the woods, making their way through bracken and over fallen tree branches and lichen-covered rocks.

“There was a good path here, once upon a time,” Siofre said. “I will have to set Fandenz to fixing that. Just clear a bit away so the walking is easier, of course, not make a formal path.”

“That is good. Walking through the trees like this, it is so pleasant, very natural. It would distract to have a path of stone, I believe. The pine needles make a lovely path.”

“Aye, they’re springy,” Siofre agreed.

The two continued to walk and talk, and after about twenty minutes, Johannes stopped and looked around. “This is an old orchard.”

“’Tis what remains of the apple orchard here. Since we have orchards closer to the house, we don’t maintain it,” Siofre said. “We are near our goal now.” She pointed, and Johannes could just make out a structure ahead of them.

A few moments later, the two stepped out into the sunshine, and Johannes saw that they had arrived at a gabled cottage of three stories. Unlike the main house with its towers and turrets, this house was not all stone. It was a combination of half-timbering and uncut natural stone of different colours—quite unusual for Scotland, in Johannes’s experience—but very lovely on this woody hill. It seemed half-grown from the land and the surrounding woods.

“This was my great-uncle’s home,” Siofre said. “He was an artist, a sculptor, and he wanted his own house away from everyone. He built this, designed it himself. No one has lived in it since he died back in . . . ninety-three. But the elves come down a few times a year and do maintenance, cleaning, and so on. Still, it is quite old-fashioned. Not really livable yet.”

“You have plans to live here?” Johannes asked, puzzled.

“Nay, not for myself and Lydia, of course not. We will stay at the house, as always. But I have been thinking a lot about my granddaughter recently. Not Dorcas—she lives with Maisie, and that’s probably best for them both—but Minerva.”

“Minerva?”

“Aye. She is at that school of hers almost the whole year long. She used to have a flat in London when she worked at the Ministry, but now she has nowhere to call her own. An independent witch such as Minerva should not feel reliant on others. She is always welcome at home with Merwyn and Egeria, of course, and she visits Melina or Murdoch or other relatives, and comes to visit me, as well, but . . . I thought a place to call her own. This place.” Siofre looked up at Johannes, waiting for his response.

“Ah. I see . . . yes.” Johannes nodded.

“What are you not saying, Professor?”

“Ah, it is not for me to say anything.”

“Come, come, Professor! I would not bring you here and ask for your opinion if I did not want it.”

“I believe that Minerva is pleased to spend her time at Hogwarts, and also there is a place, an island, that Professor Dumbledore has. I believe that during holidays, she spends much time there.”

“Aye, his island. It is a land out of time and awareness, Professor. It is not a home where one can invite visitors casually—have you ever been invited there or known anyone whom Minerva has invited?”

“I believe that Malcolm and Gertrude visited for a day last summer,” Johannes said tentatively.

“Hmph. Still, it is not hers, and it is desolate.” She looked around her. “This is . . . isolated and private, but not set apart the way that island is. And that other, that is Dumbledore’s island. Do you know its name? Eilean Tèarmunn. It means ‘Refuge Island.’ A sanctuary from the wizarding world. Not even a Post Owl can get through to it. That is fine as far as it goes, but for Minerva, I would like her to have a place she could come that is hers if she needs it, and not just that island of Dumbledore’s. She can use the cottage or not, as she likes—and bring Dumbledore with her if she wishes.”

Johannes twitched a smile and quickly suppressed it. He had heard Minerva’s grumbling the previous year when she and Albus had returned to Hogwarts from a visit to her Grandmother Siofre. Not only had Siofre given them separate bedrooms, which would have been appropriate and understandable, but she had put them in far distant parts of the house. Not that that could have stopped Albus and Minerva from spending the night together if they had wanted to, but Minerva had taken offence at it. Johannes had the impression that Albus had been merely amused.

“It is a fine offer for her,” Johannes said. “I do not doubt that she will appreciate it.”

“I think she will appreciate it more once the place is fixed up. It needs a new kitchen, and the plumbing is antiquated . . . I suppose that when we have the plumbing at the main house re-charmed, I will have the wizard redo all of the plumbing here, too.” Malcolm had been able to quiet Lydia’s pipes, but he said that the plumbing charms were deteriorating and they should have a specialist come out and look at them before they either had no water pumping into the house or, worse, had a back-up.

“Perhaps you should let Minerva decide whether she wishes to accept your offer before you invest in the decorating,” Johannes said.

“You think Minerva might not want it? Even if she uses it seldom, it will be here for her. It can be a holiday cottage for now, if she likes, but she will want a family one day and a home to raise her children. Knowing that she has this house will open up more possibilities for her, I am sure. I will do some redecorating, too, of course. I thought . . . perhaps you might assist. I’d like the gardens redone.” Siofre walked toward some brambly looking plants and reached out one hand to them. “There used to be primrose everywhere. So beautiful. Now they are just . . . scraggly. Primrose, Scottish primrose, is my favourite flower. Could you do that? Bring them back? And do some gardens? An herb garden and flowers?”

“Ja, natürlich, and the primrose is easy to bring back to health.” Johannes crouched and felt of the soil. He crumbled some in his left hand and passed his right hand over it. “The soil is only tired. We will wake it up,” he said, standing and turning to her with a smile. “Your primroses will again be beautiful.”

“And perhaps you would help with the redecorating? I know that it isn’t gardening, and it isn’t a part of your job, but I would value your assistance and advice. Minerva will want to change some things, I am sure, but I would like it to be comfortable for her right from the start. Would you mind?”

“I would enjoy that very much, Madam Tyree.”

Siofre’s expression brightened. “Lydia will no doubt wish to help, as well, when I speak to her about it. She enjoys such things. You haven’t seen the formal dining room yet, but she redid that a few years ago with new colours and patterns, and it is a most pleasing room. And I believe you have seen her suite—including her bedroom,” she said with a smirk, “and those she decorated herself, as well. She has a nice sense of colour and of comfort. I think she will be rather excited to have a new project, and one where she may have a bit freer rein than she does in the main house, where tradition dictates certain parameters.”

“You haven’t spoken with Madam Lydia yet?” Johannes asked.

“I will. We can discuss it tonight at supper. Come, let’s go in and take a quick look around before we go on to our next destination.”

Siofre gave Johannes a quick tour of the house, which was well laid out, though almost bare of any furniture. The ground floor included a wing that extended behind the cottage and contained the usual kitchen and pantry, but also a sort of atelier, a studio where the artist had created his sculptures. Siofre opened a door that led out of the studio to the back garden, and showed Johannes a large kiln.

“I haven’t any idea what to do with this,” she said. “I suppose we will just leave it and let Minerva decide.”

“It is a nice cottage,” Johannes said. “I believe that Minerva will be pleased. You are right, though: it needs work.”

“It will be a birthday present. It will be her thirty-fifth birthday this year. Her birthday is in October, so we have time, but I hope we are finished sooner so that she may have use of it this summer.” Siofre drew out a watch from around her neck and looked at it. “We don’t have more time now, though.” She looked up at Johannes. “I had wanted to walk the way down, but . . . I will Apparate us part of the way.”

Johannes nodded his assent, and Siofre took his arm and stepped closer. He tried not to notice how warm her hands were, or how close she was standing. He placed his right hand on her left arm and closed his eyes, and the sensation of Side-Along Apparition came over him. It was a smooth Apparition, though, and perhaps the most comfortable Side-Along he had ever experienced.

“You can open your eyes now, laddie, we’re there!” Siofre said with a smile.

Opening his eyes, Johannes could feel himself blushing, and he let go of her arm, which he had been grasping more tightly than he realised.

Siofre didn’t seem to notice, however, and gestured broadly at the area around them. “So . . . what does the Herbologist think? We really should have waited until May, but we can return then.”

Johannes looked around them. “It is beautiful.” He crouched and touched some of the delicate-looking plants, gently fingering through them, caressing the small buds. “Such variety.”

Siofre knelt beside him. “Machair.”

“Pardon?”

“It is called a machair,” Siofre explained. “This area here above the beach, beyond the bog behind us, these plants . . .” Her hand brushed the surface of the plants, and her fingertips met Johannes’s hand. Johannes felt the heat rise in his face.

Siofre glanced at him a moment, then stood. “There is a book in the library that I can show you, today or tomorrow, with a chapter on the flora and geology of the machair.”

Johannes rose from his crouch, looking away across the machair, certain that his blush was evident and hoping that the cool sea breeze would hide it. “It is very beautiful. I do recognise a few. Butter flowers—no, buttercups they are called. And there are orchids here. It must be wonderful when it all is in full bloom.”

“We will return in a few weeks, then,” Siofre said briskly. “But this is not our ultimate destination today.”

“No?”

“We shall walk the rest of the way,” Siofre said. She looked up at him, a teasing sparkle in her eyes. “You do wish to accompany me, don’t you, Professor?”

He bowed slightly. “Indeed.”

She raised her hand, and he offered her his arm. Resting her hand lightly on his elbow, Siofre led Johannes down the beautifully carpeted machair toward the beach.

“This is wonderfully fertile country,” Siofre said. “There is another area, similar to this, where my father grew bere—that barley you like. It was the best bere you could ever taste, sweetly nutty, with a lovely texture. Now, though, the machair has been returned to nature. That was a long time since.”

“Perhaps we—you—might grow bere again. What you do not use, I am certain you could sell.”

“It would improve the estate’s coffers,” Siofre said with a nod. “But I do not know . . . I have a green thumb and do well enough with a vegetable garden, but I never learned very much about farming. I believe it takes special skills. So my cousin Martin always tells me when I visit and admire his fields.”

“There are certain skills required,” Johannes agreed, “but you could learn them. And you have house-elves who would lighten your work quite a bit. Fandenz is quite talented with plants of all sorts, it seems. If you require cash crops, I am certain you could generate a good income. Even this summer, you will have more produce from the kailyaird than you and Madam Lydia could possibly use, even sharing it with friends and neighbours. There are, no doubt, restaurants or shops that would appreciate your vegetables and be glad to purchase them.”

Siofre looked up at him. “It would be good to have another source of income. Not that we are wanting, of course. But there are expenses, you know, and it is good to put something aside for the family’s future.”

“Then I will earn my keep and my commission and find you a market for your produce. We can begin immediately—there are many lovely greens that are ready now. And the bere? You would like to grow that again?”

“Aye, perhaps . . . but not here on this machair. I will show you the other sometime. And we can discuss it.” Siofre sounded doubtful.

“I had a farm in Germany, as well as the greenhouse. We grew cabbages, potatoes, and such. I did not grow a grain, but when I was a boy, I would help my uncle with his farm, and he grew wheat. I believe I could start the bere crop for you.”

“We will think about it. I will discuss it with Lydia and ask Merwyn’s advice, too.”

“It is a large investment,” Johannes said. “It is good to consider it carefully.”

“And here we are,” Siofre said as the rounded the base of a small hill.

“Very charming,” Johannes said with a smile. “It is a . . . a . . . what do they call them?” He wanted to say it was a silly, but he knew that didn’t sound quite right.

“It is a folly. A shell house.” Siofre smiled at Johannes’s reaction. “My grandfather had it built for my grandmother for their fifth wedding anniversary in seventeen eighty-two. Come. I’ll show you.”

The two walked up the shell-inlaid path to the small stone and shell house. It consisted of three rounded sections, and shells decorated the window frames and the doorframe. The shutters were closed, but Siofre waved her wand and opened the shutters and the door. As they stepped into the tiny house, Siofre waved her wand again and opened all of the windows, which swung outward, letting in a fresh breeze.

Inside, the little house was divided neatly into three rooms; each floor was inlaid with both shells and glittering stones in pleasing patterns, geometric and figurative. The centre room, which was the largest, had Poseidon with his trident, surrounded by dolphins, sea serpents, and white-crested waves. The floors of the two rooms on either side each had different scenes of selkies and sea-witches, and fish, dolphins, seabirds, and seals.

The tables, chairs, and benches were all decorated with shells, as were the walls, window frames, fireplaces, and even the ceiling. It was wonderfully whimsical, and Johannes was smiling widely in delight as he gazed at it all.

“This is one part of the grounds we never neglect,” Siofre said. “We enjoy it most in the summer, but even in winter, with fires in the fireplaces and the lamps lit, their light glittering off the mother-of-pearl and the other shells, some warm rugs and soft cushions, it is a beautiful place for a casual supper. The waves crash, the wind blows, and in here, it is warm and cosy . . .”

“And romantic. I mean to say, I am sure it must be,” Johannes added hastily.

“It is.” Siofre ran her hand along one of the shell-encrusted window sills. “My grandmother loved the sea, and this was my grandfather’s gift to her, so that she could come down and enjoy the machair, the beach, and the water, no matter the weather. We sometimes have our midsummer bonfire on the beach down below. The last one we had here was a year or two before Mother died. We had fireworks, too. She enjoyed it very much, and it was good for her to be able to come inside and watch from the shelter of the shell house.”

“You will do a bonfire here again this year?” Johannes asked.

Siofre shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. Now let’s see if Multry and her wee ones . . . yes, here we are,” she said, opening a shell-inlaid cupboard door. She pulled out a basket and looked into it. “Tea, Professor? We have tea . . . poppyseed cakes . . . and here, some cold milk.”

“Yes, thank you,” Johannes said. He took the bright blue napkins from the basket and placed them on the nearest small round table, then he helped Siofre set out cups, saucers, and cake plates. He held her chair for her, then he sat down opposite as she poured the tea.

“This is lovely, Madam Tyree. It is kind of you.” He put a poppyseed cake on each little plate.

“Nonsense. We need our tea, and you need a bite to eat, too, after working in the fresh air. And we both had a long walk.” She stirred her tea. “It has been a good afternoon. I should thank you.”

“I enjoyed it very much.” He looked at her over the rim of his cup as he took a sip of tea. She was lovely, her hair slightly windblown, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes so bright. He smiled at her. She had enjoyed his company, it seemed, and he most assuredly had enjoyed hers. He took a steadying breath. “I will be forever grateful to Malcolm for referring me to you. Working here is a pleasure beyond the work itself. I am very glad that I have made your acquaintance, yours and Madam Lydia’s.”

Siofre nodded. “I am, too. And although it may be a convenience for you to distinguish between the two Madam Tyrees by referring to us as Madam Lydia and Madam Siofre, perhaps you might simplify it.”

Johannes raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

“I would not be offended if you simply used my first name,” Siofre said, “and I doubt that Lydia would mind if you addressed her so, either. It would be easier.” Her cheek twitched as she gave a crooked smile. “And you would sound a bit less like one of our house-elves . . . and more like a friend.”

“I accept. Thank you. And you must call me by my Christian name,” Johannes said.

“Johannes. That is like John, isn’t it?”

“Ja. It is one version of John.”

Siofre smiled. “I like the way you pronounce that. ‘Tchon.’ It is charming.”

Johannes blushed.

“Really, I do,” Siofre said. “You know, I have heard Malcolm call you something else—Honnie?”

“Yes. It is a sort of nickname a few friends use.”

Siofre chuckled. “The first time he said it, I thought he was calling you ‘honey’! I was a wee bit taken aback.”

Johannes laughed at that. “No, just Honnie.”

She nodded. “Would you like another cake?”

“No, thank you.”

“More tea?”

He nodded, and she poured.

“May we do something like this again?” Johannes asked. “Perhaps this weekend . . . on Saturday afternoon, I am going to visit a garden I worked on last year. I need only spend a few minutes. If there is work to be done, I will return some other time. Perhaps afterward, I might be able to bring you to tea? If you are not busy, of course.”

“I would enjoy that. Thank you.” Siofre’s eyes sparkled at him from across the table, and Johannes felt exhilarated by her smile.

“It will be my pleasure, Madam Tyree . . . Siofre.” Her name seemed a gentle breeze from his lips. He smiled softly. It would be his pleasure.

[stefdarlin]

Chapter 6: Sorry, I missed you posting this chapter. I think you may have posted it right before we went on a mini vacation to Panama City for a family reunion. It was a very tiring weekend just past. But it was nice to come back to quite a few new chapters and one-shots. YAY!

I liked this chapter, you had me salivating with that last little cliffie-type line. Shame. I love all the wee details though.]

As for chapter 7, I love the way Siofre seems to tease Johannes a bit, especially about Lydia and her room. Tee hee. If I didn't know better, I would think Siofre might be wisking Johannes away on a romantic picnic tea near the ocean. His blush about his comment about it being romantic made me smile.

Oh, I hate that the chapter has ended. I want more! Please??

CFP, (*snrt*)

Stef ;D

[MMADfan]

Thanks, Stef! I’m glad that you enjoyed chapters 6 & 7. Johannes is certainly “crushing” on Siofre, and she seems rather fond of him, as well. I think he’s become a bit more than just “the gardener” now, regardless of what she may say.

Siofre does, indeed, enjoy teasing Johannes—he blushes so cutely, after all! And yet she’s also more gentle with him than she is with some people, like Lydia, who Siofre knows can take a bit more robust teasing. Johannes is a sweet and gentle soul, and she recognizes and appreciates that.

I’ve started the next chapter, but haven’t gotten very far on it. Well, I suppose I have, but it needs a bit of work yet. Hopefully, you will enjoy it. I’ve had a rough several weeks, which affects my ability to write, and each time I think that things will be easing up and I think things will settle down, something else happens. Or doesn’t happen. Today, when the workmen were tearing things down in the attached house next door to me, they cut a phone line. I have one working jack now. In the kitchen. Makes my dsl use a bit difficult, to say the least . . . Yeah, sometimes stuff happens. LOL!

Thanks for the review!

[OSUSprinks]

Oh they are soo cute. I love his comment about it being romantic. It made me think that might have been what she had in mind, whether she would admit it or not. She certainly didn't seem to hesitate in taking him up on the offer of time together without the excuse of a future project for him. It's refreshing to see a dominate woman who isn't afraid to be herself in a relationship and a man who is the more delicate of the two. I apparently have been reading more teenage fluff than is good for me lately. This means you must write more soon! lol

[MMADfan]

Jul 3, 2010 22:51:42 GMT -5 OSUSprinks said:

Oh they are soo cute. I love his comment about it being romantic. It made me think that might have been what she had in mind, whether she would admit it or not. She certainly didn't seem to hesitate in taking him up on the offer of time together without the excuse of a future project for him. It's refreshing to see a dominate woman who isn't afraid to be herself in a relationship and a man who is the more delicate of the two. I apparently have been reading more teenage fluff than is good for me lately. This means you must write more soon! lol

I’m really glad you’re enjoying this, Sprinks! Yes, Siofre is the more dominate of the two, and a very strong, independent woman. Johannes is a kind, gentle soul, though not a wimp, either. He is definitely very sensitive – and very taken with Siofre. Siofre is feeling something for Johannes, too, but right now, she’s just looking at it as a pleasant, friendly new relationship with someone a bit out-of-the-ordinary – though she does appreciate his attractive qualities and good looks. And despite her teasing Lydia about flirting with “the gardener,” she doesn’t mind a little flirting, herself, although much more subtly. If there’s anything more there for her, she doesn’t recognize it for what it might be.

Yes, a steady diet of teenage fluff can be a bit much for the taste buds, so to speak!

Thanks for reviewing!

I hope to get more written this holiday weekend. If I do, I’ll post! :-)

[MMADfan]

Chapter Eight: Our Siofre

Lydia offered Johannes another sandwich, which he accepted. The two were having lunch in the morning room since it was just the two of them that day.

“So, it seems you and Siofre had a good time yesterday,” Lydia remarked.

“We did. It was a most charming afternoon,” Johannes replied, adding some mustard to his sandwich.

“I’ll have to go take a look at the cottage soon. It’s been years since I’ve been down there, I must confess. I just trust that the house-elves are keeping it up properly.”

“It appeared so.”

“And you two have plans, I understand?”

“I did agree to assist Ma–, Siofre, with the redecoration,” Johannes said, “but when she showed it to me, she said that she would value your assistance. She praised your decorating abilities highly.”

“Did she?” Lydia smiled brightly. “She doesn’t often say much about anything I’ve done around the house. But that wasn’t what I meant—and I do think it’s a brilliant idea to have you help, too—I meant that she said something about being gone with you on Saturday afternoon.”

“Ah, yes. I did suggest . . . that I might reciprocate. Tea.” Johannes hoped that Lydia was not feeling left out. “As a gesture, because she gave me tea yesterday.” That sounded disingenuous, since he had often had tea with one or the other or both witches in the afternoon.

“That is wonderful. I don’t think our Siofre gets out enough. Well, she gets out, and she probably sees many more people than I do, really, but she doesn’t go out and just have fun very often. She claims those jaunts with Malcolm are fun, but really, it’s just not the same, is it?”

“No, I suppose that it isn’t.”

“And even if they have their tea after, or lunch, it’s not being taken out,” Lydia continued.

Johannes didn’t know what to say. He wondered whether he should invite Lydia to join them. He had been looking forward to bringing Siofre out, just the two of them.

“It’s good for Siofre to have an outing with a gentleman.”

Johannes blushed. “If you would like to join us—”

“Oh, heavens, no!” Lydia exclaimed. “That’s completely out of the question. No, no, no! You must take Siofre out and see that she enjoys herself.”

“Ah, well, perhaps another time,” Johannes said, although he was relieved that Lydia had declined his offer; her vehemence, however, was a bit overwhelming.

“Have you decided where you will have your tea?”

“I am not sure . . .” He had already considered Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade, but he felt unaccountably uncomfortable with that idea. He doubted that it was a Hogsmeade weekend, since the Easter holiday had only just ended and there usually wasn’t another Hogsmeade weekend right after a holiday, but Hogsmeade was small and people gossiped. Not that there was anything to gossip about. But people could make up tales out of whole cloth.

“There are a couple places where she enjoys going . . .” Lydia thought for a moment. “Do you know that little tearoom in the Clypeum, the one just next to the bookshop?”

Johannes shook his head. “I do not know Glasgow at all. I have never been to the Clypeum.”

“Pity, it’s a nice little teahouse, and Siofre always enjoys their scones and cakes. It’s called the Primrose Room.”

Primroses were Siofre’s favourite flower, Johannes remembered. He disliked having to ask Siofre for a Side-Along to the Clypeum to bring her to tea, however. Perhaps he might Floo to somewhere in the Clypeum and reconnoitre before their date—their afternoon tea. On the other hand, he could bring her to the Cailleachan Café in Edinburgh. Which was just steps from her grandson Murdoch’s apothecary. He frowned.

“You know, if you like,” Lydia said, “we could pop over there this afternoon and you could see whether it’s suitable. Just pop over and pop back so you know how to get there. Or tomorrow morning. If you like. I know you have work this afternoon, but it would only take a few minutes.”

“Perhaps sometime,” Johannes said. “I think we can go to the Cailleachan Café on Saturday. I’ve often been to McTavish Street.”

It was Lydia’s turn to frown. “Their tea is fine, and their coffee is quite good, but . . . well, I suppose it is up to you.”

“Does Siofre not like the café?” Johannes asked.

“It would be fine, no doubt.”

Johannes thought a moment. “If we can leave immediately after lunch, I could see this tearoom and compare it. I really only know the café and Madam Puddifoot’s—other than establishments in Diagon Alley, and I have the impression that Siofre does not like Diagon Alley very well.”

“Eat up, then,” Lydia said, “and we can take a quick trip and you can see if you like the tearoom.”

A half hour later, Johannes was back working in the gardens, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat with his work clothes. Fandenz and Gweller were both helping him that day, and Mynok had popped out for a few minutes to inspect the work of the younger elves and ask Johannes, whom he called “Master Professor,” whether their service was adequate. Johannes had reassured the old tufty-eared house-elf that their work was exemplary, far better than adequate, and Mynok had Disapparated again, beaming with pride.

Johannes could hardly keep himself from beaming, either. The Primrose Room had been perfect. It was simple, elegant, and charming, and sunlight streamed in through the large front windows. The Cailleachan Café was atmospheric, but the café was very narrow and deep, and it tended to be dark, even in the afternoon. It could be romantic, but there was something cheerful and pleasant about the tearoom. The smell of scones had been tempting even though Johannes had just eaten lunch. Glad that he had slipped on a robe over his work trousers and jacket, Johannes had even inquired whether reservations were possible. The witch had hesitated a moment, then said that they did not usually reserve tables, but she could hold a table for them if they were prompt.

Setting a spade to turning the earth in the centre of the area he was working that afternoon, Johannes cast his attention on the spare outdoor furniture and the conveniently placed large rocks and boulders that ringed the lawn. He had promised Siofre that the area would be ready in time for the May Day eve bonfire and for the family picnic the first weekend in May. He didn’t want to change the basic character of the spot, since the bonfire had been traditionally held there for years, but he did think that cleaning it up, rearranging things, and perhaps adding a few new pieces of furniture, could spruce it up. Since they always had music and singing—Morgan played the fiddle, Malcolm played the recorder and penny whistle, and there was always a Tyree or two with pipes—Johannes thought that having a slightly raised wooden platform for the musicians would be nice, as well. Before the next bonfire, he might make additional improvements, but May Day was in just two weeks, and for the time being, this would do.

Although his training had included a little about garden planning and garden architecture, that had not been its emphasis. There were few Herbologists who specialised in gardening per se, and some even looked down upon it as something one hired others to do, but Johannes enjoyed it, and although his greatest enjoyment came from the more magic-intensive tasks, such as creating microclimates, he also found satisfaction in deciding the layout of the gardens, what to plant and where to plant it. He had used the existing grounds layout as a base and had consulted the original garden plans—the large formal garden would be very much like one that had been designed in the mid-eighteenth century—but he had added many ideas of his own. He was looking forward to the new greenhouse, but that would not be erected until at least July, and he had not yet found a builder for it.

Johannes called Gweller and told him to finish preparing the area for the actual bonfire and to line the pit with stone, then he left for the artist’s cottage that Siofre planned to give to Minerva. No time like the present to begin clearing out weeds and determining what to plant and how the soil might need to be treated. He thought that once he had a plan of action, perhaps Multry might find time to work on the weeding and basic preparation. She could bring Duster and Kilbeena with her, and they would have fun helping her with the work, he was sure. The two wee elves had spent time helping him in the gardens a few afternoons each week, and they had proved more useful than Johannes had anticipated, and it amused him to watch them as they worked, occasionally using house-elf magic with varying degrees of success.

He had learned that the nonsense they talked when they whispered and giggled together wasn’t nonsense at all, but a house-elf language, for which Multry had scolded them when she caught them speaking it in the gardens with him there. Siofre explained that there was a house-elf taboo on speaking their language in front of humans—or in the presence of any other sentient beings who weren’t house-elves. Until they were five or six years old, house-elf children often still spoke it together regardless of who they were with, and the taboo wasn’t strictly enforced until they were eight, at which time house-elf children were viewed to be old enough to carry more of the responsibilities of an adult house-elf, including following the house-elf imposed taboos. By the time they were fourteen, they were considered old enough to serve as a fully adult house-elf, though Siofre explained that although the young elves were given many of the responsibilities of an adult, house-elves considered adulthood to begin at the age of twenty-two, and in a well-run household where the house-elves did not have other codes imposed upon them by their wizarding families, mating only occurred after passing that milestone—provided that a suitable mate was available.

Johannes Apparated to the cottage, but spent only a little time clearing away dead plants, fallen limbs, and weeds. As he worked, though, he envisioned what he could do with the area around the house that would be both attractive and productive, and yet also not require Minerva’s on-going attention. He was sure that Siofre would spare an elf once a week or so to come down and do any maintenance that was needed, but he wanted to make the upkeep minimal.

Since he had brought no Charmed garden implements with him, Johannes used his wand to prune back the scraggly looking primrose bushes, then he cast a spell and incinerated the trimmings. He took his handkerchief from his pocket, waved his wand to create a small bag, and collected a soil sample to bring with him and test later. Finally, he selected a primrose that was healthiest and trimmed off a shoot. Although there were some fine primrose bushes in a few of the gardens nearer the house, Johannes felt a curious affection for these old primroses. He doubted that Siofre was speaking of these primrose bushes specifically when she said that the Scottish primrose was her favourite flower, but nonetheless, for what he had in mind, he wanted at least one cutting from these plants. He could transplant or start new plants from other clippings from the main gardens, but there would be one plant sprung from this garden.

Before he left, Johannes strolled around just outside the garden area, examining the surrounding trees, including the apple orchard. He found an old, neglected coppice, and made a mental note to ask Siofre how she wanted it treated. It was an overgrown mess, and he doubted that any of it had been cut in several decades. He wondered whether Siofre’s uncle had used some of the coppiced wood to make charcoal for his kiln, or whether he had used the wood for some other purpose—perhaps for making some kind of bent-wood sculptures, or even for furniture or fencing. Siofre might remember.

Johannes smiled as he prepared to Disapparate for the main house. In two days, he would be taking Siofre to tea in the Clypeum. It was good to be making friends with the two witches—some clients whom he might have had could have been far less pleasant and amusing. Lydia was certainly amusing. And Siofre . . . there was something about her that made his heart beat faster, his skin tingle where she touched him, and his mind and heart and eye and ear all pause to capture her, to savour her. It seemed that his thoughts were constantly turning to her, and now, as he held his wand and Disapparated, her name was in his mind, on the tip of his tongue, the whisper of Siofre a breeze through his being.

He almost laughed as he opened his eyes and found himself gazing at the witch herself, coming up the walk toward the front doors. She smiled up at him as she approached.

“You had a good day, Professor?”

“I did, indeed, Madam Tyree,” Johannes replied with a bow. “And you?”

“It was . . . eventful,” Siofre said.

“Eventful? It sounds as though there is a story behind those words.” He offered her his arm.

“Aye, there is. And perhaps you shall hear it,” Siofre said, placing her hand on his wrist, her fingers grazing the back of his hand. “You are joining us for dinner this evening?”

As he attempted to respond, Johannes’s breath caught at the sensation of her magic tingling from her fingertips. “Ah, ah, ja, ah, I eat dinner with you this evening.” He tried to control the shudder in his breath.

“Good. I hope you will also join us in the sitting room later. Lydia enjoys your company, and she appreciates having a larger audience when she decides to play the piano after dinner.”

“Lydia is accomplished,” Johannes replied, opening the front door for them.

“She is,” Siofre agreed with a nod. “You will join us?”

“I will . . . if you like.” Johannes placed his free hand on Siofre’s and caught her eyes with his own.

“It is not only Lydia who enjoys your company,” Siofre said briskly, dropping her hand. “I will go see what Multry is planning for dinner. I’ll see you later.”

Johannes nodded, his nod becoming a slight bow. “Until then, Madam Tyree.”

Siofre disappeared down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, and Johannes stepped up the stairs to his rooms. He entered his sitting room first. He had created a miniature greenhouse on a long table by one of the windows, and he took out his sprig of primrose and, after placing it in specially Charmed water, he put it in the glass enclosure. The small bag of soil he placed on the table next to the greenhouse. He could analyse it later that evening.

His rooms were spectacular, richly appointed and beautifully decorated. Even his rooms at Hogwarts had not been so beautiful. The fireplace was large, and the rich wood surround was intricately carved by some master artisan long ago. The heavy velvet draperies were a rich green with gold fringe and matching gold-tasselled tie-back sashes. The furniture was chiefly upholstered in similar hues, and the carpets’ designs picked up the colours of the furniture and draperies. The walls, though, had hand-painted scenes depicting life in the Highlands. Above the large fireplace was a massive landscape with wall sconces on either side of its gold frame, three Everlasting Smoke-free Charmed Candles in each sconce. His bedroom was no simpler than the sitting room, and had Johannes been a hedonist, he would have been well-pleased with it; as it was, he was satisfied, and even felt somewhat spoiled by the lavish surroundings. It was quite a contrast with his simple but cozy flat in Hogsmeade.

Johannes went through his bedroom to his dressing room—he’d never had such a thing before and felt it was completely superfluous, but the house-elves had hung his robes in one of the wardrobes in the dressing room, and so he used it. Since it had a marble sink with a well-lit mirror, it was a convenient place to shave, though he also had his own separate bath and toilet. He doubted that royalty could be treated any better than he was there at the Tyree estate. He certainly was wanting for nothing and had more than he needed.

He disrobed, putting his clothes in the hamper provided, then he washed quickly, brushed his hair, and shaved, using just a bit of a sandlewood aftershave potion. Though he usually just wore his work clothes to lunch, he had taken to changing for dinner, at least cleaning up his trousers and putting on a fresh shirt and a different over-robe. That evening, Johannes selected his deep azure blue robes and his well-polished black boots. He examined himself in the mirror once more, then he took a blue ribbon, charmed it to be the same blue as his robes, and he tied his hair back using a slip knot. He felt tidier, but he still took just a smidgen of a hair potion and lightly smoothed back his hair at the sides. He shrugged at himself in the mirror, seeing no real difference in his appearance, and chuckled at his sudden attack of vanity. But then he recalled the sensation of Siofre’s fingertips grazing his wrist, and he shivered involuntarily at the mere memory of her touch.

Johannes pushed the memory aside—and any connection it might have with his careful attention to his appearance—and returned to his sitting room to read until the dinner bell rang.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“You said that today was ‘eventful,’ Siofre,” Johannes remarked as he set his soupspoon down.

“Aye.” Siofre nodded and took another sip of her soup.

“Weren’t you at the Terwilligers’ today?” Lydia asked, pushing her soup plate away slightly. At Siofre’s nod, she said, “I thought you said that it was going to be a simple spell-casting job. Lengthy but straightforward, you said.”

Siofre finished her soup and rang the small bell by her place. The soup plates vanished and a moment later, their dinner plates appeared in front of them, followed by bowls and platters of food.

“’Twas supposed to be simple and straightforward, but Gwyneth has a fool of a neighbour. Bad enough the husband she has, but her neighbours are all fools, from the evidence I saw today.” She offered the platter of fish to Johannes, who indicated that she should help herself first. She took a large piece, then passed the platter to him. He served Lydia, then took the last piece for himself as Lydia took the vegetables and passed them on to Siofre before helping herself to the potatoes.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Siofre,” Lydia said. “Why are her neighbours fools?”

“Well, p’raps not all of them,” Siofre said grudgingly, “but one wizard certainly is. Decided he wanted to know why I was there, but instead of coming up to the front door and knocking—we’d have sent him away with a flea in his ear if he had, of course—he decided to spy through the windows. Fool of a man.” Siofre shook her head in disgust. “He didn’t understand what he was seeing, and alerted the Ministry. The MLE was swarming all over the place, convinced we were performing some kind of Dark Magic. I should have been home by mid-afternoon, but they held everything up. They didn’t appreciate that I wouldn’t tell them precisely what I was doing and why, but they did finally leave, since they could find no evidence of Dark Magic, other than a pinprick on Gwyneth’s finger, which could have been from anything. Fools everywhere.”

“Were the spells effective?” Lydia asked.

Siofre twitched one shoulder. “I think they will be. But I will pop over tomorrow and see her, then again on Monday. The last thing I did before I left was owl Egeria to come and Heal her jaw. Gwyneth had tried to do it herself, but you could tell she hadn’t completely healed it, and that was with a Glamour over it.”

“He broke her jaw?” Lydia asked, eyes wide.

“Gwyneth said she ‘fell.’” Siofre snorted. “As if a simple fall could break a witch’s jaw! Believe me, even before today, I’d wanted her to leave Cadoc and report him to the Cornish regional gamot or to the MLE, but she wouldn’t. She blames everything but her husband. She wouldn’t even let me lay any spells directly on him. She remembers a different man, the one she married, and she wants that man back. We’ll see how that goes . . .”

“You don’t sound hopeful,” Lydia said.

“I may need to take additional measures,” Siofre said. “And the spells I cast will only be effective as long as they are in the house. From what I understand, he drinks, then comes home mean. On good nights, he passes out before he does more than shout and make a scene. The nosy neighbour turns a blind eye to the husband’s behaviour, though he surely must know of it. Any road, I did what I could to make sure that if he does come home drunk, he passes out straightaway upon crossing the threshold. If he tries to take a drink at home, he’ll become ill. Gwyneth claims that when he’s not drinking, he’s moody, but otherwise fine. Most of the spells I cast were aimed at his drinking—making the consequences miserable for him. I cast a few protective spells around Gwyneth, and I gave her an emergency Portkey, as well. If Cadoc becomes violent or frightens her in any way, she can Portkey to her brother and sister-in-law’s home.”

“Why would she stay with such a brute?” Johannes asked.

“She does love him, or the man she remembers marrying,” Siofre replied, “but she is expecting a baby. It was partly for her baby’s sake that I tried to persuade her to leave the man, but she . . . she has her reasons, I suppose.”

“He hits her or hexes her and she is pregnant?” Johannes asked, even more appalled than he had been. “The man should be . . . he should be . . . I do not know a suitable punishment, but he does not deserve the family if he cannot treat them with the love and respect that he should. He should be their protector!”

Siofre twitched a slight smile. “Perhaps a lecture in gentlemanly behaviour might do him some good . . . in a few weeks, after the man has ceased drinking. If we can manage that.”

“If you cannot?” Johannes asked.

“Then I will take other measures, if I canna’ convince Gwyneth to leave him and go to her older brother. I believe that the Bowens would take her in. Dylan has a strong sense of family, and Violet seems a good witch. But if Gwyneth would not go to them, then . . . I may cast a few spells to directly effect Cadoc, whether Gwyneth would have it or no.”

“Would that be . . . legal? Those spells?” Johannes asked.

Lydia laughed, and Siofre’s eyebrow rose in amusement as she gave a narrow, crooked smile.

“I would not want to see you in trouble,” Johannes said. “This man is bad, but I do not want to see you have trouble, neither from the Ministry nor from him.”

“Don’t worry about legality,” Lydia said, reaching over and patting Johannes’s hand. “Our Siofre will be just fine.”

“And from that wizard? If he learns of it? If he hears that she was there today and guesses something? He could try to . . . to venge himself.”

Lydia laughed again. “Then in that case, I do pity the man!”

Johannes cocked his head. He remembered well what he had learned from Minerva about Tyree witches and their reputation, but then he looked at Siofre, petite and slight of build—though not slight of magic—and he couldn’t help but worry about her. Nonetheless, he did recognise that she could take care of herself, and take very good care of others, as well. It would be unwise to seem to suggest otherwise.

“I hope that you can help Mrs Terwilliger,” Johannes said.

“Siofre will,” Lydia said confidently.

“I hope to,” Siofre said more moderately. “I usually find some way of achieving my aim . . . but not always.”

“When was the last time you failed?” Lydia asked, apparently rhetorically, but Siofre looked at her seriously.

“You remember young Simon Hapsby-Fuller,” Siofre replied. “I would say that I failed him.”

“Yes, but he’s out of Azkaban now, and from the letter you received from him last month, he has a very good life in Toronto now, a fiancée, a good job,” Lydia said. “And if it hadn’t been for you and your advocacy, I’m sure his Azkaban sentence would have been much longer than it was.”

“Azkaban?” Johannes wondered what kinds of people Siofre commonly consorted with. He had a vague memory of a Hapsby-Fuller who had been a student the first couple years he taught at Hogwarts, but he had not taken NEWTs level Herbology and so Johannes hadn’t come to know him.

“He very nearly killed his uncle,” Lydia said. “But for good reason—”

“This is not talk for the dinner table,” Siofre said softly.

“You’re right, of course,” Lydia agreed. “But Simon is happy now and doing well, and that’s important to remember.”

Johannes, despite his innate curiosity, was happy to leave the subject behind, particularly if it was one that made Siofre uncomfortable.

Their dessert arrived, and conversation turned to the imminent arrival of Morgan, Fiona, and the quads in just a few days. The house itself was ready, and Johannes had done much to start the kitchen gardens for Fiona, and he’d overseen the house-elves in trimming back the bushes and planting some annual flowers near the front door. Lydia had taken charge of renewing the paths and drive between the main house and the lodge. All that really remained was for the McGonagalls and their furniture to move in.

They rose from the table and started out of the dining room together.

“How would you feel about some nice, melodic Brahms this evening, Siofre? Or perhaps a little Liszt?” Lydia asked, putting her arm through her sister-in-law’s. She gave her arm a squeeze. “After the day you’ve had, I think that might be just the ticket for you. A little romantic music and a nice novel, you’ll forget all the worries of the day.”

“I have work I was going to fetch from my study,” Siofre said. “The income and expenses. There’s the plumbing coming up—”

“No, no, not tonight,” Lydia said firmly. “Read something light tonight.” She looked up at Johannes and reached out with her free hand to take one of his. “You’ll persuade our Siofre, won’t you, dear? And no work for you, either! You’re a pair, you two are! Working dawn to dusk isn’t enough for you, you want to work half the night, too—well, not tonight! Tonight, you relax.”

Johannes smiled and Siofre let out a good-natured groan of capitulation.

“Now, I’m going to go sort out the sheet music. You two run along and find something light to read—or not to read—while I play.” Lydia stepped out in front of them and brought their hands together briefly before letting them go. “I’ll expect to see you both in a few minutes, then!”

She bustled off through the sitting room to the music room, and Siofre looked up at Johannes with a wry grin. “I believe we have been given our orders, Professor.”

“Indeed, just so, Madam Tyree,” Johannes said. He touched her hand tentatively, letting his fingers just rest on the back of her hand. “Shall we fetch something to read?”

Siofre nodded. “There is a new book on the myths and history of the warrior witches of Skye that I bought three months ago and haven’t started yet. It’s by my bed, waiting for me to find the time for it.”

“In my sitting room, I have a book I was reading before dinner. It is not light reading, as it is a new Herbology text on Dendromancy, but it is in German, so perhaps Lydia will not notice.”

“Aye, she will notice,” Siofre said, removing her hand from his, but placing it on his elbow and leading him toward the stairs. “She often reads novels and such in German. French and Italian, too. Lydia is quite clever in her way. Never underestimate a Slytherin, I say.”

“Ah. Then I will find something different. I would not wish to disappoint her,” Johannes said with a smile.

At the top of the stairs, they paused, and Siofre said, “I will meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

Johannes nodded, still smiling. He took her hand between his. “Light reading and melodic music, as Lydia promised us, ‘aye,’ Madam Tyree?”

“Aye, Professor, light reading and . . . romantic music.” Siofre gave him a crooked grin, then turned quickly and walked away down the hall.