Magical Hogwarts

When he suggested that she might not be able to read it even if she could find it, Gabriella raised an eyebrow. ÔÇ£What, did you write it in Gaelic?ÔÇØ she asked teasingly as she continued to eat, a bit of a teasing glint in her eyes. His handwriting had greatly improved since when heÔÇÖd first been injured, so that wasnÔÇÖt what immediately came to her mind, unaware that heÔÇÖd been using a charm to improve it. There had been a lot theyÔÇÖd missed in their four years of self imposed solitude; things they were only recently starting to either re-learn or discover for the first time.

She paused in her eating, however, her eyes narrowing before she took a sip of her wine, finding that it paired well with dinner, as was to be expected of course. I know that look. she murmured, almost disapprovingly, but more amused. Thats the look you get when youve thought of some devilish prank for later down the line I suppose Ill have to keep my eyes peeled now. she let out a pretend sigh, resting her chin on her hand and watching him. She loved listening to him talk about his stories, something she hadnt gotten much of lately, but was glad that they were slowly getting back to their old ways; at least the good ones. There were a few that she would like to leave in the past.

But his question was an intriguing one, and the darkness of the subject didnt even phase her. For one, it was a hypothetical, and with writing, many darker subjects were brought up, so it wasnt that uncommon. And for two, there were few things that gabriella personally considered taboo subjects, though not ones that shed have brought up on her own, not wanting to create an awkward moment for someone else. She took another bite of her food and chewed it thoughtfully, wondering what exactly she would do. I think that were I in a position where saving your life meant doing things I would never otherwise do. There isnt a whole lot I wouldnt do. For you, or for Rhiannon she answered softly.

Gabriella was always eager to see how he would take her ideas, and add to them, changing them into more cohesive elements of the story at times, or making them into something more like what he would write. But there wasnÔÇÖt entirely much of that. She knew his works so well that aside from the insertion of more romantic elements, which in his works had been present, but more as subtle sub plots. Of course those were some of her favorites parts, as her imagination had added to them in her own mind. ÔÇ£I think by the point he reveals what his true intentions are, in order to trap her there, sheÔÇÖd have to know how heÔÇÖs turned against them. And she knows that if and when his plans begin to fall apart, it would be a situation where he would kill them both. I canÔÇÖt see the younger brother sparing either of them, and I feel like sheÔÇÖd come to the same conclusion.ÔÇØ

Pleased with her suggestions so far, nevertheless gabriella was also happy to see that they were also wrapping the conversation up. She was very much at the right point of tipsy, after the wine, and the rum in her cake, that she had the right level of confidence to actually make the suggestion for once, rather then Dermod having to coax her into it. Not that he ever had to try too hard but the fact that his eyes lit up at her suggestion and the grin on his face grew, that made her heart skip a beat with delight as he pulled her closer to him, nearly tipping her out of his hair as he pressed his lips to hers, the building insistence growing as their kiss deepened and grew more passionate.

Gabriella was left breathless as her chair returned to all four legs, blushing brightly but smiling delightedly. He was quick to close his book, which only made her smile grow, waiting for him to get up before taking his hand and joining him. The petite welshwoman stifled a slightly drunk giggle as she wrapped her arm around his, and resting her head on his arm. ÔÇ£I think we shall.ÔÇØ she murmured, allowing her husband to lead her from his study in the direction of the master suite.

{fin}

Dermod was bemused by Gabriella's reaction. It was his birthday, so she'd baked him a cake. She'd given him the cake, lit the candles, and he'd blown them out. She'd said 'Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first' which was practically an invitation to try it, which he had. He'd said it was delicious, and then turned it around so she wouldn't have to see the admittedly small hole he'd made. And obviously they would be eating the cake later, so it wouldn't be looking perfect for long anyway. Yet clearly she was upset; the look on her face would have been enough to tell him as much. Not only that, but the mild rebuke from his wife was equivalent to a three-day silence followed by a screaming argument from any other woman.

He considered attempting to mend the damage with his wand, and then the possibility of offering her a taste of the cake as well, but in that time she had taken her seat at the table, stirring and tasting her soup and - ah. The rest of the meal hadn't been her responsibility as he'd assumed, just the cake...and she was sitting in a room where there was a fire; though as with all the fires in the castle the elves had found a way to hide the smell of smoke. Now she was behaving impeccably, offering a small smile, accepting the offer of wine - he poured a good measure into his own glass before returning it to the table...but clearly she was upset.

Once, he wouldn't have minded. And really, at the back of his mind was the irritable thought that it was his cake, if she'd meant it for him she shouldn't have minded what he did with it, and... now he wasn't going to relax and enjoy the meal, not properly. He lifted his spoon and tried the soup, then, finding it to be the perfect temperature consumed half the bowl without pause. Ah, well. ÔÇ£You're right. We should have cut the cake - and both tried itÔÇØ he said, the words sounding sincere. He almost added that he would eat the piece that had been 'damaged', but suspected that wouldn't help matters. Instead he lifted his glass and held it as if for a toast, before adding ÔÇ£and thank you for making this day specialÔÇØ.

Having spent much of the day in his study, he was hungry, and the soup was quickly finished - or at least his bowl was. ÔÇ£I would normally as how you've spent your day, but I believe I already knowÔÇØ he said with a smile.

It really hadnÔÇÖt mattered to her that he had tried it without her. But sheÔÇÖd been looking forwards to serving him. To him sitting and relaxing while she cut him a slice, and curling up together while he tried it. In her innermost dark fantasies that sheÔÇÖd never ever dare to voice, Gabriella had amused herself that she had the confidence to sit on his lap and feed it to him. It was perhaps more that what he had done was so clearly the opposite of how she had pictured things going, rather then how childish it was, that had upset her. Though the childish part still did bother her. Even at ten, Rhiannon would never have done such a thing. How Dermod and Cliona had managed to raise such a little lady was beyond her.

But then he actually surprised her. It was rare for Dermod to apologise, and she supposed that what heÔÇÖd said was as close to an admission of guilt as her husband ever came to. From him, he might as well have been groveling at her feet, so rare was it that he was willing to admit any wrongdoing. But she looked down at her soup bowl, then back up at him with a soft smile, especially when he toasted her, picking up her own glass and joining him. ÔÇ£I just wanted you to have a good birthday, since the past four years have been...ÔÇØ she left that sentence die in silence where it belonged. They didnÔÇÖt need to bring up such things tonight. It was a happy night.

Her soup only about half done, she took another bite or two when he began to tease her about asking how her day went. Was it the subtle ink stains on my hands? Or the fact that Im pretty sure i didnt get all the flour off my skirt? she asked, teasing him back as she finished off the last of what was in her bowl. She was definitely more relaxed now, letting her reaction to his earlier behavior lay, actually starting to enjoy the night. When I saw that Journal in the shop, i knew that it was meant for you. But I wanted I wanted your gift to be something special. Something more than just somewhere else to jot down notes."

Dermod was delighted by his wife's suggestion. He certainly had no plans to retire early tonight...or rather, if they did retire early, it was unlikely that there would be much sleep occurring. ÔÇ£A fine plan. Were you intending we should eat sandwiches in the laundry room, or perhaps adjourn to the library later on?ÔÇØ he enquired softly, a knowing look glinting in his eyes, though while Gabriella was holding his hand so tenderly, he thought little of the food and far more of other, more intimate matters... but for now, it was still early and the evening young, so when she took her hands away he quickly finished his second helping of the meal. It was delicious, and for a moment his fork wavered in the direction of the salad - there was a lot left - but then he recalled the cake. He definitely wanted cake more than he wanted salad, and the elves would happily finish off any leftovers that weren't made into sandwiches later.

He smiled when Gabriella said liked the plot idea. Never had the writer craved approval, not even from his publishers, but this was an entirely new experience. The act of creative collaboration was fresh and exciting, and his mind was racing ahead. He nodded at her words. Lovers being blackmailed - yes, that would be the most interesting. ÔÇ£I was considering the idea of siblings, but you're right. It would be harder to blackmail a brother and sister unless they were incredibly closeÔÇØ he said... ÔÇ£though of course, that implies that the secret that is discovered applies to both parties...or that they each have a secret that is connected in some way...ÔÇØ he was thoughtful for a moment ÔÇ£unless one of them had been working for the blackmailer and wanted to stop. That would imply that whatever they were doing hadn't been entirely legal or acceptable in wider society...ÔÇØ he was smiling now, eyes blazing, food temporarily forgotten.

That would account for the first third or so of the book. Enough to explore the backgrounds of all three protagonists, and... ÔÇ£I need a quillÔÇØ he declared suddenly, rising from his seat and crossing the short distance to his desk, where the aroma of the still cake wafted up enticingly. Quill and a hardbacked notepad, rather than parchment, in hand, together with an oddly-shaped, padded block about the size of half a fist, he returned to their dinner table, etiquette forgotten for the moment. ÔÇ£So once they discover they are both being blackmailed, or at least unable to escape the villain's influence, I imagine that will push them closer together, at least temporarily...ÔÇØ he was scribbling, diminished hand leaning on the block to compensate for his lost fingers and flesh ÔÇ£and then...ÔÇØ

He sat back with a smile, and nodded. Yes. Have the woman be the murderer, the good, well-bred pureblooded maiden of thirty or so who nobody would ever suspect of harming a billywig, much less of killing someone...ÔÇØIf she does plot to kill him, it would be still more interesting if the final murder isn't anticipated, and her plans have to change at the last possible minute. That way the readers truly wouldn't see the death coming...ÔÇØ He broke off suddenly, almost jerking into silence, as another thought occurred. What if the blackmailer and the male lover were formerly good friends, or...even related in some way? What if they were brothers, or cousins, or...

ÔÇ£We'll need to find a quillname for you as well, at this rateÔÇØ he chuckled comfortably.

1st November 2002

Old habits didn't disappear overnight. Dermod still tended to stay up long into the night, writing or making his way through some of the volumes in his substantial library that he had never got around to reading, and while Gabriella was often with him these days, either reading alongside him or ultimately proving to be such a pleasant distraction that all thoughts of plot and characterisation were lost, she still retired around midnight and thus was awake with the sun. Sometimes she would slip out of bed without disturbing him. And sometimes like this morning, perhaps because he had stirred in his sleep and she thought he was close to waking she would curl up against him, and kiss him, with the result that she got out of bed a good deal later than she had originally intended.

Dermod had fallen back to sleep soon after, waking a little before midday to the sounds of a tapping on the bedroom window. An owl, looking to have come from Hogwarts by its species and mannerisms, carrying a brown-wrapped parcel. Pulling on the closest robe he opened the window, swore a little as the frigid November air blew into the already chilly room, took the package, paid it a sickle, and sent it on its way. He smiled at his daughter's thoughtfulness as he went to bathe and dress, before taking a breakfast so late it could have been called lunch in his study.

Gabriella was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't entirely unusual. Dermod unwrapped the package, which contained a box of firewhisky-filled chocolates and a handmade card with a raven on it, charmed so the bird moved its head and winked.

Dear Daddy,

Happy Birthday! I hope you like these, a seventh year girl in my house bought them for me in Hogsmeade last night. When I gave her the money she said I was too young for alcohol but I told her it was your birthday and said she could watch me sending them to you if she wanted, but she laughed and got them then. Hogsmeade is amazing,?á I've spent all my allowance already but the sweetshop is incredible, and there was this brilliant set of quills that are charmed never to run out of ink and I couldn't resist!

Love from Rhiannon

He chuckled as he finished the letter, already tasting one of the chocolates. They were particularly good quality, clearly her mysterious older friend had good taste ÔÇô or perhaps Rhiannon had pointed out the ones she wanted. He also didn't miss the veiled request for more money, though he decided to make her wait a day or two for that. Almost immediately another bird arrived, this one brightly-coloured and familiar ÔÇô Ivana's jobberknoll. One wouldn't imagine such a tiny creature could carry anything heavier than a letter, particularly not all the way from Italy, but it deposited a parcel containing a finely-crafted silver bottle stopper with a snake engraved on the top, which grew immediately heavier as the writer held it in his hand. Clearly his elder daughter had charmed it to be light enough for the small bird to carry.

These delights dealt with, he immersed himself in a fascinating history of Bulgarian hexes which he had somehow never before got around to reading, and the sky was beginning to darken when he realised he hadn't seen Gabriella all day. After their morning activities he knew not to worry, and yet... ÔÇ£Kit!ÔÇØ he called loudly, and after a considerable pause, her personal elf appeared with a quiet crack. It looked nervous and happy at the same time. ÔÇ£Where is your mistress?ÔÇØ he began, before remembering such questions were futile when the questionee couldn't speak. He sighed.

ÔÇ£Is your Mistress well? Is she safe? Is she in the castle?ÔÇØ Kit nodded cheerfully to all of these, and then, to the cautious ÔÇ£Is she crying?ÔÇØ it shook its head firmly. ÔÇ£Fine. You may leaveÔÇØ he told it, a little frustrated and now unable to concentrate on his book. Casting it aside, he reached for a quill, thinking to reply to his daughters' letters, but he was too distracted to compose more than an opening sentence there, either.?á

Gabriella had risen early, as she was prone to do, though lately with her staying up with her husband, early meant after the sun had risen, at least for now. With the days getting shorter she suspected that eight in the morning would bring the sunrise to her. SheÔÇÖd had every intention of letting him sleep, but he had stirred, and sheÔÇÖd been overtaken by the overwhelming urge to kiss the man she loved, even if he was still asleep. Which he was not, apparently, as heÔÇÖd pulled her into a tight embrace and returned the kiss with passion. It had been well over an hour later when she finally managed to find the strength in her legs to leave the bed, though with a silly grin on her face she couldnÔÇÖt help but wonder what would happen if she kissed his sleeping form once more. But she had so much to do today, hating the fact that her mind had kept her from the preparations until the last moment. Of course, none of that mattered now, because for the first time in years, Gabriella was going to do more then order out for a fine aged bottle of firewhiskey and a new silk handkercheif.

Nearly two weeks ago, sheÔÇÖd persuaded her husband to buy her not one, but two new journals, one a blue stained leather with silver embossed leaves and ivy decorating the front of it, thick and heavy, large enough for another year or two of poetry, especially if she kept up the pace of the past few days. The other was green stained leather, with black and bronze embossing in a celtic pattern, small, with a mere hundred and fifty pages, each perhaps big enough for a single poem or two, if they were short. It was held together with a bronze clasp that looked like a serpent biting the binding, and sheÔÇÖd absolutely adored the elegant violence of it. She was absolutely certain that Dermod had no idea what the petite witch had planned, as heÔÇÖd been so thrilled at the time that sheÔÇÖd simply left the house, he bought her everything in the store that sheÔÇÖd asked for without a second glance. She had of course, behaved herself, and not spent too much of his money. Though something told her that was even less of a concern then it was with her father.?á

Her morning had been spent finishing transcribing the rest of the poems that sheÔÇÖd carefully selected, even a few of her darker ones, but ones that reflected her feelings for him over the years. These went carefully, with her steady hand and neat calligraphy, into the green leatherbound Journal, though sheÔÇÖd left the first and second pages till last, even if she knew exactly what sheÔÇÖd wanted to put there. With a deep breath, she turned carefully back to the front, after ensuring the final page was dry. The last thirty or so poems were new, written in the days after their midnight scare, and re-affirmation of their love for eachother. There were even a few that brought a blush to her cheeks. Those, even if she some day decided to publish her work, would Never Ever be seen by anyone at all ever except her husband. To gabriella, they might as well have been racy photography.

On the second page, she carefully copied the poem she had recited to him, ÔÇ£unheeded warningÔÇØ. Despite everything else sheÔÇÖd ever written, either for or about him, that one meant the most to her. She also included the date sheÔÇÖd written it, as she had on each of the others, but this one was special, because she now understood how important it was for him to see that, to know that she had never once doubted her feelings for him, even in the aftermath of all they had been through that year. The first page was far simpler, a short note to him that innocently read ÔÇ£Happy Birthday Dermod, Love Gabriella.ÔÇØ she had thought long and hard about writing something more eloquent. But everything else in the journal said whatever she might have written more clearly.

Gabriella had finished all of this by lunch, and carefully placed it in the wooden cigar box she used to keep quills in. here, she actually had a desk, as opposed to her flat, where she did her writing at the kitchen table. As such, the box was no longer needed, and might keep her lovely husband guessing just a few seconds longer. Kit had gotten her some wrapping paper, green foily stuff, and she used one of her black hair ribbons to tie a pleasant bow around it, tucking it away in her desk before heading down to the kitchens for lunch and to get started on her other little project.

Gabriella loved baking. It was essentially potion making but the end result was so much more delicious. Lara had always rolled her eyes and said that she was doing elves work, and the castle elves seemed to agree, until Gabriella patiently explained to them that a gift like this was so much more meaningful with her own hands. To appease them, she baked a second one alongside the first, to be sure that she didnÔÇÖt screw up, and encouraged them to try the less perfect looking one for her, because she wanted to make sure it was up to standard, since they were after all, the experts. Kit was still beside himself, but heÔÇÖd gotten used to GabriellaÔÇÖs tendency towards wanting to cook herself sometimes. The glaze took the longest, as sheÔÇÖd waited until the cake had cooled a little, and even let the elves handle pouring it over the cake, as the pot was heavy and she didnÔÇÖt want to risk dropping it. The oak aged rum had been expensive, but she was pleased that Kit had managed to find the exact one that grandmother Costello favored.

Kit was nowhere to be seen when Gabriella was ready to leave the kitchens, dinner nearly finished. Everything smelled so good that she just wanted to wait there, but this was DermodÔÇÖs special day. ÔÇ£Dermod and I will be taking dinner in his study tonight. But wait until youÔÇÖre ready to serve it before coming up to set a table for us. I want this to be a surprise.ÔÇØ She took the heavily spiced and saturated rum cake carefully with both hands, and then paused. ÔÇ£Sorrel I need you to get the green wrapped package from my desk and bring it to me?ÔÇØ it didnÔÇÖt take DermodÔÇÖs elf long to retrieve it for her. Kit was still nowhere to be seen, so gabriella took the candles and put them around the circle in the cake, glad that all she had to do was speak and theyÔÇÖd light. She certainly didnÔÇÖt have a free hand to wield her wand and light them.

Tucking her package under her arm, Gabriella took the cake?á once more and made her way gingerly up the stairs, stopping in front of DermodÔÇÖs study door and tapping against the wood with her shoe, since she had no hands free for knocking. Staring at the candles, she took a deep breath. It was fire. She could do this. It was just six tiny flickers of flame, and she wasnÔÇÖt about to catch anything on fire. She could do this. Another deep breath, and a tremble went through her. Perhaps she didnÔÇÖt need to light themÔǪ this was a terrible idea, she couldnÔÇÖt even stop to take them out. SheÔÇÖd already summoned him. HeÔÇÖd have to do with unlit candles. Perhaps when it was on the table...

Time passed, and the Irishman was growing increasingly frustrated. A letter now lay half-written and abandoned on his desk, next to the book he had been reading earlier. He replaced the volume on his shelf, selected another and within five minutes had discarded that onto his desk as well. Where was she??á The knowledge that Gabriella was safe and well had helped momentarily, but now he knew she was somewhere in the castle, apparently perfectly happy without him, he felt irritated. Irritated because - and it was pathetic, he was well aware of this - almost the entire day had passed, and she had made no mention of his birthday. He was fifty nine today; far too old to care, and yet...he did. Even during the periods when they had barely acknowledged each other aside from polite conversation she had always remembered to give him a gift. Firewhisky was unimaginative, but at least it was always welcome.

Admittedly he hadn't emerged from his study all day, but if Ivana's jobberknoll had found him in there easily enough having flown all the way from Italy, then surely Gabriella could find the time to pay him a visit. Unless she was planning something for dinnertime? With that thought in mind he had just decided to change his clothes so he wasn't clad in a shirt with the cuff stained with ink where he had reached across the desk too rapidly, and... there was a knock at the door.

No, not a knock. It was too soft to be that. It was a sort of tapping; irregular and sounding as if it was close to the ground. Dermod frowned, curiosity not quite overcoming the annoyance he was already feeling. Was one of the house elves polishing the doors at this time of day, when they should have been preparing dinner? It seemed unlikely, but he couldn't imagine what else the tapping sound could be. He crossed the study in just a few steps, grasped the door handle and pulled it firmly open, an expression of irritation showing plainly on his face.

The expression softened almost instantly as he was greeted by the sight of Gabriella, balancing a large cake and somewhat smaller parcel in her hands and looking slightly nervous. Immediately it was clear what the sound had been - with her hands full, and not yet having had enough practise with her new wand to attempt wordless magic, she had had no choice but to knock with her foot. Then he caught sight of the candles. They were unlit, but she was holding the cake nonetheless, had presumably carried from the kitchens (briefly he wondered why she hadn't had one of the elves bring it, before remembering Gabriella's strange liking for doing certain tasks herself). That was the point he relaxed, ushering her into the study and swiftly piling up papers and books to create space on the desk for her to put the cake down.

ÔÇ£You remembered...ÔÇØ he said softly, bending to kiss her on the lips. As he straightened, the aroma of the cake reached him, something delicious and fruit-filled and decidedly alcoholic. Unable to resist the smell, he took a step closer and breathed it in before turning back to her with a hopeful smile and asking ÔÇ£Do I take it we're having cake for dinner this evening?ÔÇØ

Gabriella let out a startled squeak as Dermod jerked the door open, staring up at him before her gaze dropped, worried by the indignant look on his face, though as she did she saw his face soften and hesitantly turned back up, a cautious smile on her face.?á She made no hesitation when he put his arm around her shoulders to lead her into the room, waiting patiently as he cleared a spot for the cake on his desk so that she could put it down. "Of course I wouldn't forgetÔǪ" her voice was soft and almost a little hurt that he thought that she could forget his birthday. Then again, he hadnÔÇÖt joined her for lunch, and the two of them had not seen eachother save for their little tryst that morning.

She gently set the cake down, and stopped before taking a deep breath and stepping back almost nervously. "Ignis" she jumped a little as the candles lit before smiling up at him with her usual shyness, still holding the little package in her hands. "Happy birthday." Her eyes kept nervously darting to the candles, but she was doing a good job of keeping her composure even as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. "I baked it myself." She added proudly, before she got that sheepish tone that was common for her. "it's my grandmother Costello's recipe. I may have put the elves all out of sorts in the kitchen." Realizing then with the actual question was that he had asked her, Gabriela let out a little laugh. "And no cake is not for dinner. But a rather wise older girl in my house once said to me, 'life is uncertain. Eat dessert first." of course eating such a rich cake so heavy in alcohol was probably not the best idea on an empty stomach, but sheÔÇÖd been snacking most of the day.

Gabriella took a step back then, holding out her hands with her green foil package. Certainly, the wrapping wasnt her best work, and shed had to resort to that hair ribbon if shed been able to leave the estate more comfortably, perhaps she could have done a better job with it. Nevertheless, she really hoped he liked it, even if she had sort of tricked him into buying his own birthday present. " but I really would rather you open this before we eat." She seemed rather nervous waiting for him to take it from her.

Guiding her into the room had necessarily meant an arm around Gabriella's slender shoulders, and he only set her free from his half-embrace to allow her to set the cake down. In that short time she had seemed unusually tense, even nervous, and he wondered at the reason for it. Was she afraid he wouldn't want to be disturbed? While there were occasions he preferred no interruptions, this was certainly not one of them. Besides, the cake did look delicious, and he couldn't recall the elves ever making one quite like that before. Plain fruit cake was more their style for special occasions, decorated with an array of nuts culled from the trees in the gardens.

A moment later he understood as she drew her wand, took a deep breath, and cast a spell that was obvious and yet utterly unexpected. He had assumed the candles were going to remain unlit, given her fear of fire, and yet she had lit them. Now he understood the reason for her anxiety; as if her renewed clinging to him wasn't proof enough. And that was why he loved her. She was terrified, and it didn't stop her. He could have argued that she had spent four years allowing her fears to do exactly that, but Dermod was remarkably adept at bending the truth to the exact form he wanted it to take. Somehow the past years had been, if not erased, then blended into a formless period in time where not much had happened. It had, he recalled, been much the same at the end of the first wizarding war. The Dark Lord had fallen, and for several years Dermod and his first wife had barely left the estate. A different kind of stagnation arguably, but it amounted to much the same thing.

Almost as great a surprise was that she had made the cake herself. He wanted to ask why, when they had elves to do just that, but because it was Gabriella, he simply smiled. At least it explained why he hadn't seen one quite like it before. ÔÇ£You're probably the first witch ever to want to cook anything in the entire history of this familyÔÇØ he told her, a note of affection evident in his voice. ÔÇ£The elves will recover - though you might want to give them the recipe so they can attempt it themselvesÔÇØ Really, Dermod knew it was ludicrous, the way he thought of his house elves almost as people with actual feelings these days, but he knew that Thistle would want to attempt to perfect this himself so it could be added to the regular castle repertoire for special occasions. ÔÇ£Cake first, then. We could start a new tradition...ÔÇØ he said, and then realised belatedly that the welshwoman was still clinging to him like her life depended upon it.

ÔÇ£I believe this is still the accepted tradition, howeverÔÇØ he added, bending to blow out the candles, for the first time in several decades. Only then did she release her grip and take a step back, holding out a small package with both hands, still looking somewhat nervous. ÔÇ£Thank youÔÇØ he said, the words seeming inadequate but his eyes saying so much more. Carefully he removed the ribbon, struggled a little holding it in his diminished hand as he removed the paper and set them both aside. His face betrayed curiosity as he recognised the contents, glanced up to meet Gabriella's anxious gaze. Opened the first page, read the inscription. Turned to the second page. The words were familiar, he could hear them being spoken in a soft Welsh voice...

Pulling her once again into his arms, he led her to his chair, pulling her into his lap as he turned the pages. Each one contained a single verse, occasionally two. All dealt with aspects of the same subject, and he felt... he couldn't read it all now. This was something to savour over the coming days and weeks. It was also possibly the best gift he had ever received. ÔÇ£I've spent my life writing books...I never expected to be the subject of oneÔÇØ he said somewhat inadequately, gazing down at her as he spoke.?á

There was nothing more pleasing to gabriella then the tone of pleasure and affection in DermodÔÇÖs voice. When around others, and even when with her at times, he could seem emotionless, or at least reacting far less then one would, soft smiles and gentle touches would have been another manÔÇÖs laughter and unbridled passion. Wich made those moments when he let his guard down and showed true emotion all that more special to her. And they were getting more and more common, something that made her heart feel like bursting.

A great deal of relief was to be had of course, when the irishman finally blew out the candles, gabriella letting out the breath that she hadnÔÇÖt known sheÔÇÖd been holding as she slowly released the death grip she had on him, smiling weakly as she regained her composure. ÔÇ£Though to be fair we should probably wait for dinner? IÔÇÖve asked the elves to bring it up here, yours and mine. Like a little date?ÔÇØ sheÔÇÖd clasped her hands behind her back, the toe of her shoe scuffing the ground with a little almost shy smile gracing her lips. She really liked the idea of having a secluded quiet dinner with dermod. TheyÔÇÖd done nothing of the sort in years. And she was hopeful that heÔÇÖd feel the same way.

Her gift to him, on the other hand, interrupted all other thoughts till after it was opened. And his reaction to it was better than she could have expected. She watched at his hint of confusion as he recognised the book heÔÇÖd bought her. SheÔÇÖd chosen it for him of course; It seemed like something heÔÇÖd love. And he did, though more for what was inside of it. She saw the look of recognition in his eyes, and let out a little yelp of surprise as he pulled her into his arms, before into his lap in his overstuffed chair, holding her there comfortably as he turned the pages. But she was looking at his face, and not the pages, and she could have sworn he was a little misty eyed.

I copied all the ones i loved best from my main journal... her words were soft, in response to his as he slowly closed it. There was a bright flush to her cheeks as she continued. And a few others; more recent. That no one will ever ever see. Or i might have to get angry. she couldnt even bring herself to threaten him properly. But she was smiling. And despite knowing that the elves could come in soon, she leaned up and kissed him with passion. Though anything beyond her lips pressed to his own would have to wait until well after dinner.

ÔÇ£You think so? I have to wait for dinner, even on my birthday?ÔÇØ he enquired with another glance at the cake ÔÇ£Hmm, you may be right...it's so much tidier cutting a cake with a knife than using a wandÔÇØ. He was surprised that Gabriella had felt sufficient confidence to instruct the elves to bring dinner up here. It wasn't something he would have chosen for himself?á - his study was the one place he considered his own private domain, away from the trials and minutiae of everyday life. And yet she looked so hopeful, so well-meaning... It was the hope written in her eyes, almost unfamiliar after they years in which she'd barely responded to anything, that decided him. They would eat in here tonight. Just once wasn't going to make a difference.

And her gift more than made up for anything else. Merlin, after this they could eat in the currently barren rose garden at midnight dressed in nothing more than their lightest robes and he wouldn't complain. Actually, come next summer that might be worth considering he thought slyly. The thought remained once she was curled in his lap as he read through the journal. At her words, naturally he turned towards the back of the book, scanning the pages as he noticed each one was dated. As he got closer to the night they'd shared on the clifftop - and the bathroom - and the kitchens - and the laundry room - he could sense her getting less comfortable, as if there was something she had written but wasn't entirely sure she wanted him to read. Naturally this made him search for precisely what she considered the most private, and when he found it...

He read it through in silence, twice, thinking that even a few months earlier she would have blushed scarlet at the mere suggestion than she could write something so...personal. As he looked up from the book she claimed his lips with her own. His free arm wrapped around her, he responded with enthusiasm and desire, their lips brushing together first softly and then with a hunger that wouldn't be disguised. He ran his hand down her back, feeling his need for her begin to respond again, then reluctantly remembered what she'd said about dinner. Slowly, he released her, though they were mere inches apart, staring into each others eyes, their breathing somewhat ragged.

ÔÇ£I promise nobody will ever see that oneÔÇØ he said, the book held carefully in his diminished hand, though he now laid it reverently on his desk. Not before he'd marked that page for further reading later though. There was a familiar glint in his eyes and he added ÔÇ£although I admit - I might enjoy seeing you angry...ÔÇØ what the rest of the conversation might have been was left unsaid as at this point there were hushed whispers and footsteps outside the door. Clearly the house elves had finished the dinner preparations and were discussing who was going to be responsible for disturbing their master's private domain. ÔÇ£Just come in!ÔÇØ he commanded them without moving from the chair and three of the house elves, led by Sorrel, began presenting what appeared to be a banquet they must have spent the whole day preparing.

Gabriella couldnÔÇÖt help but smile at his playful comments, curled up comfortably in his lap as she was. In truth telling the elves to do something hadnÔÇÖt required much confidence, at least in her mind. They were House elves, and sheÔÇÖd gotten used to the idea that she could tell them to do things and theyÔÇÖd listen, despite them being DermodÔÇÖs elves. There were occasions early on where she had still felt like a guest, or like she was invading their home. But gradually, sheÔÇÖd grown out of that and had become comfortable that this was her home as well. And she had really wanted a private, quiet evening for the both of them. They were still getting back to the point of spending time together, and she really wanted him for herself, if she could.

Her cheeks did flush as he took her comments and flipped towards the back of the book, looking for whatever material could draw out that sort of reaction from her. He had to at least suspect what it contained, though considering there were a great many things that would be capable of drawing that sort of reaction out of her, Gabriella wasnÔÇÖt sure heÔÇÖd know what to expect. The poem he found was mostly sensations, though one of the more racy ones to be sure, her cheeks turning redder. She was grateful when he put it away, however, and returned her kiss, leaning into him as he held her, for a brief moment wondering if heÔÇÖd just suggest skipping dinner. If he hadnÔÇÖt pulled away when he did, she knew she probably would have started considering such a thing. But sheÔÇÖd spent her afternoon in the kitchens and knew how hard the elves had been working on the evening meal.


ÔÇ£Apparate me again without my permission and you just might...ÔÇØ she murmured softly when he teased about enjoying seeing her angry. ÔÇ£But I believe youÔÇÖve written about women like me before? The kind who donÔÇÖt shout and just buy poison.ÔÇØ there was a teasing glint in her eye that mirrored his own. She would never even consider doing such?á a thing, not matter how upset heÔÇÖd made her, which was part of the reason why she felt comfortable bringing up a reference to his own works.?á And then the whispering prevented the teasing from going further. She would have moved to beside him if they had been sitting on a couch, but as they were on a chair, and she was nestled comfortably in his lap there really wasnÔÇÖt anywhere for her to go. The smell of the food made her stomach vibrate slightly, and she remembered that sheÔÇÖd eaten very little in the way of breakfast and lunch, too focused on her many preparations; although she had remembered to eat at least something.


The food was laid out on the coffee table for them, the same way it would be on a banquet table, and the small table that was rarely ever used, but usually had a chess board set up on it brought over and laid out with a table cloth and place settings. She looked back to Dermod and smiled again. ÔÇ£Shall we eat? After all, the sooner we do so the sooner you can try my cake.ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£There is only one place I would want to apparate you right now...ÔÇØ he murmured in her ear ÔÇ£and it would not involve a book of any kind, be it one you or I have written or anything else.ÔÇØ As amusing as it was to see Gabriella angry, it was every bit as entertaining to see her blush, and he knew quite well how to make that happen.?á Dermod would have been happy for his wife to remain in his lap for a good while longer, but as the elves arranged platefuls of food on what was normally a little-used table he realised he was hungry. Particularly as the aromas of various dishes began to fill the study. After the food was laid out, Sorrel clicked his fingers and two of the dining chairs appeared in the room, which was now feeling particularly crowded.

ÔÇ£Yes, we shallÔÇØ the writer replied, helping Gabriella to rise from his lap, though at the mention of the cake there was a wicked glint in his eye, and a sudden thought came to his mind.ÔÇ£You're going to make me wait for your cake?ÔÇØ he asked, pretending to look disappointed ÔÇ£I understood the tradition was that one is allowed to taste the cake as soon as the candles have been blown out...ÔÇØ and with one eye still on the Welshwoman he reached out an index finger, plunged it into the cake, and licked it clean.

ÔÇ£Deferred gratification doesn't count on birthdaysÔÇØ he told her smugly ÔÇ£...and Merlin that is delicious; how much rum did you put in there?!ÔÇØ Then, to salve any possible ruffled feelings he turned the cake so it still looked whole and perfect, the finger-sized hole no longer visible, before crossing to the table where the plates and glasses were waiting for them. The elves bowed low and left the room, Sorrel now closing the door behind them.

The delicious smell of slowly-roasted beef rib, dressed with a red wine reduction rose from the main course plates, but despite his behaviour with the cake, Dermod had no wish to eat dinner in reverse. Besides, the elves were well versed in spells to ensure the food remained perfectly hot until it was ready to eat. So they could begin with the starters. Leek and potato soup made from vegetables grown on the estate was simple, but had been a favourite since childhood. Little wonder the elves had chosen to serve that tonight. Of the several side dishes there included freshly-baked breads, a dressed roast duck salad, a steaming bowl of asparagus tips despite the lateness of the season, three different kind of potatoes...clearly more than two people would manage to eat. There were also two bottles of wine, a chenin blanc for the starter and a cabernet sauvignon for the beef, the bottles already uncorked; the former already chilled.

Dermod naturally assumed Gabriella had instructed the elves in the menu as well as baking the cake. ÔÇ£You've chosen all my favourite things...ÔÇØ he told her as they took their seats. He lifted the bottle of white from the carafe?á and offered?á ÔÇ£Wine?ÔÇØ

True to form, a blush appeared on her cheeks as Dermod murmured thinks into her ear that had her wondering if perhaps they should skip dinner and cake and just retreat to their room for the night. But of course Dermod was eyeing the food up as much as she was, her mouth salivating a little from the smells, and very quickly that feeling went away, replaced with a desire for food. As he helped her up, gabriella caught the glint in his eye and for a moment was confused. She had been about to suggest that maybe a small piece wouldnÔÇÖt ruin anything when he looked her straight in the eye and stuck a finger in her carefully crafted cake as she stared on in horror. The look on her face was one of a small girl whose siblings had just smashed her sandcastle, even as he complimented her, crossing her arms. ÔÇ£We could have just cut a small piece dermod...ÔÇØ she said softly, though that was all she said, still looking a little crestfallen as she headed for the table, taking her seat as she carefully smoothed the back of her skirt to sit down, though it did nothing for the obviously ruffled feathers.

Despite having grown up in a rather wealthy and extravagant household, gabriella always found the most comfort in the simpler preparations. SheÔÇÖd grown quite fond of dermodÔÇÖs favorite soup over the years here, and though she waited for him to join her at the table, she was quick to pick up her spoon, though still in a very ladylike manner. ÔÇ£I only handled the cake.ÔÇØ she said, rather quietly, stirring the spoon round once or twice in her soup before eating some, smiling a little at the taste. This was probably the elves best preparation of it yet. ÔÇ£I left the rest to them.ÔÇØ she really didnÔÇÖt want to make things upsetting on his birthday, so she did her best to pretend like she was fine, even if what heÔÇÖd done had been incredibly childish and rather cruel. This wasnÔÇÖt his 9th birthday after all, but his 59th. He was a grown man.

She told herself again to just let it go, and looked up when he offered her some of the white wine. ÔÇ£Yes. Please.ÔÇØ perhaps a little bit of alcohol would help her calm down. She watched him pour it from the bottle, taking another spoon of her soup and letting it warm her. There was a fire going in here, and even the elves had taken her aversion to it into account, the smaller of the two chairs being further from it, but facing it. She was doing better, though she still didnÔÇÖt light one in her own study. And honestly, she couldnÔÇÖt smell smoke right now, and wondered if theyÔÇÖd had something to do with that as well. She took the glass of wine he offered her and took a sip, before silently putting it next to her bowl.