instincts
"Hangin' onto every word,
man, the things I heard."
There was a grand total of 16 people sitting around the Weasley’s comically large dining table that evening.
Mister Weasley sat at the head of the rectangular table, his plump wife occupying the seat to his right and his oldest son Bill sat opposite him, at the other end of the table. As Teddy and Hermione were last minute additions to the seating arrangements, they sat at the end of the table, nearest Bill and his beautiful wife, Fleur.
It seemed as if the younger a person was, the closer to the centre of the table they sat. Perhaps it was an attempt to keep the children entertained by each other so their parents could eat peacefully. Or as peacefully as possible, with over a dozen folks sitting in the same room.
The dinnertime conversation confirmed Ginny’s suspicions, or lack-there-of. Young Mister Teddy, revealed he was an only-child, recently orphaned, who took his savings on the road with him to find something new to be a part of, something he could do for himself.
“Afterall, what’s more independent than the Wild West?” Teddy joked, and it gave Harry the perfect in to join the conversation.
“As a matter of fact, that Sheriff correspondence I started proved mighty beneficial today.” He began but was interrupted by a slight laugh from Teddy.
“What, like Police Pen-Pals?” Teddy teased the scarred man across the table, and in the process caught his new acquaintance's eyes as she looked up from her plate. “Oh, mighty youthful indeed, Missus Potter.”
Hermione chuckled, despite the dig at her close friend, Harry. She supposed, without the right context, it did seem a bit unorthodox. Not many police departments would want to admit they could benefit from a different perspective. She really did admire Harry’s initiative.
“Come on now, Mister Teddy. He’s just received some rather exciting news from Durmstrang’s Sheriff. Oh, Harry, may I tell everyone?” Ginny waves off the new-comers teasing, accustomed to being the butt of a joke; she did have six older brothers after all.
“Go ahead, Gin. I’m sure they’ll be pleased.” Harry encourages, smirking at Teddy as he leaned back in his seat, resting an arm across the back of Ginny’s chair.
“The Travelling Fair is coming to Hogwarts!” She revealed, bouncing in her seat slightly.
Charlie, another Weasley son, was seated to Teddy’s left and began drumming his hands on the table expectantly. His ringed fingers thrumming against the aged wood. He was the stockiest of the bunch, with wide shoulders and thick arms that seemed to be more freckle than pale skin.
Despite seeming preoccupied with each other, the children were listening with rapt interest. Once the date of the fair's arrival was revealed, the oldest grandchild let slip a slight squeak of excitement. Her blonde eyebrows rose high on her forehead.
Hermione noticed the young girl’s unabashed joy but her attention was immediately drawn to the stranger next to her. He seemed somehow, more eager than anyone else, for the fair. Not outwardly, but sitting beside him, she heard the slight hitch in his breathing when Ginny had first made the announcement and saw the gears turning behind his dark eyes.
As for the children, once the talk switched to the shindig the grown-ups had to plan, all semblance of a peaceful dinner was out the window. The three youngsters were talking over one another, while the Weasley Twins pitched their homemade gunpowder fireworks as a grand finale and Molly mumbled to her husband about how much new evening wear is going to cost everyone.
Dinner wrapped up, and the chores were finished nearly a half hour later. Teddy and Hermione had volunteered to scrub the dishes outback. With a wooden bucket of hot soapy water between them, the two sat on milking stools and got to work. Chatting away as the pile of used plates and eating irons dwindled into nothing.
Sauntering down the road, bellies full of salted pork and roasted veggies, Hermione offered, "It’s easy to get turned around here in the dark, I can walk with you to Wrackspurts if you’d like. It’s on my way home.”
“It’d be rather rude of me to let you walk home alone, so lead the way, Miss Mione .” Teddy acquiesced, and much to Hermione’s annoyance, he referenced the nickname that he had overheard Ron use throughout the overwhelming dinner.
“Oh, let me alone. I’ll never live that name down.” Hermione shook her head, generally disliking nicknames as a whole. “If you insist on being informal, Hermione will do just fine, Mister Teddy.”
“In that case, Hermione, you can call me by the name my momma blessed me with. Theodore.” Her new friend stopped walking, planting both his feet firmly on the well-travelled road beneath him. “I want to apologise again, for the way I startled y’all tonight. I suppose youse thought I was some sort of home invader.”
“Well, maybe at first. But once you dropped your hood, I could tell that wasn't the case.” Hermione admitted taking a step towards him, recalling her initial impression of the man she had just met. “You’ve got kind eyes.”
“So, you don’t think I'm intimidatin’.” Theodore asked, faking offence. Leaning towards Hermione, he attempted a menacing look, dropping his brows low and trying, somewhat successfully, to keep a straight face. “How ‘bout now?”
“Oh please, Mister Teddy. You ain’t scarin’ nobody.” Hermione pushed his face away jokingly. After seeing his face splitting grin and seeing his eyes light up the way a child would when he laughs, she could not find it in herself to be afraid of the man in front of her. “Now, hurry up. Miss Lovegood is expecting us.”
“Us? How does she know you’re coming along?” Theodore looked slightly puzzled at her choice of words but Hermione did not explain further. She simply continued down the road knowingly.
In the short time he had known this woman, Theodore had come to admire the level of knowledge she clearly possessed. He could see her thinking whenever she opened her mouth to speak. She seemed to be informed on every subject. It was remarkable, considering the world wasn’t overly tolerant of women educating themselves.
-------
As anticipated, the owner of Wrackspurts stood expectantly in the doorway. Through the open door, the light of the wall lanterns danced along the trim of her aubergine skirt and bone white riding boots.
Compared to its owners, Wrackspurts was a tame looking building; three floors high, burnt orange in colour and reliably built. It housed an always-crowded saloon, upstairs whore-house and a few cozy spare rooms for the town’s infrequent travellers. Wrackspurts ownership was divided in two. Miss Lovegood and Madame Parkinson split the lodging revenue fifty fifty, and otherwise they each dealt with their respective sides of the enterprise.
Miss Luna Lovegood stood in the April night air wearing three lace shawls, each draped across her shoulders at varying angles and dyed various shades of purple. How she managed to pour and serve drinks with such accessories, Hermione still did not know. She had her long silver hair braided back with a thin burlap bow, allowing for an unobstructed view of the most garish jewelry Theodore had ever seen. It seemed as if ripe beets hung from the woman's ears and she had a necklace of wine corks around her throat.
“Hello, Miss Hermione.” Her breathy voice carried through the still-hot night air. “I trust the moonlight allowed for an easy journey here on this spring night.”
“Indeed, Miss Luna. Assuring Mister Teddy’s safe return to his lodgings, as requested. I leave him in your capable hands.” Hermione played along, allowing her voice to take on a similar silky quality. Finding a strange peace in the whispering oddity that was Miss Lovegood.
“What?” The word was barely past Theodore’s lips before he raised his eyebrows. He had not understood more than three words, beyond his name, shared between the two women. “By golly, I must be going deaf.”
“Welcome in, Theodore. Care for a pint?” Luna said at a more reasonable volume, gesturing behind her and into the lively saloon beyond. Her bracelets jingled with the movement and the young man took this as his cue to bid Hermione goodnight.
Hermione agreed to meet him outside the schoolhouse the following afternoon, aligning with Hermione’s typical walk home; promising a tour of the small town and a horseback ride up Hogsmeade Ridge.
-------
The following day seemed to breeze by. Hermione found great joy in teaching the youth of Hogwarts, and she really enjoyed seeing Bill and Charlie’s children everyday. Who, each in their own way, were abuzz with news of the upcoming fair. The Weasley children eagerly divulged their insider knowledge with their classmates, wanting to share in the excitement. Despite the unexpected news, Hermione had no trouble reigning in her students during her lesson, as usual.
It was almost second nature, the steps Hermione repeated day-in and day-out as she closed up the schoolhouse. The windows were shuttered. The lamp on her oak desk, extinguished. She removed a key from her small beaded bag and locked her office behind her.
Opening the door to the world outside, she props the painted wood open with a wedge. Her intention was to complete the next task on her list, sweeping the floor, collecting chalk dust and pencil shavings to be brushed straight out the door and carried away by the wind.
Rising up from wedging the door open, she hopped back in surprise. For Mister Teddy was now standing on the front steps of the schoolhouse, mere feet from her. He stood in front of her in pants the colour of coffee beans and a white button-down. He had on a tan leather belt with an ornate silver buckle. Not quite brave enough to keep staring and examine the buckles intricacies, Hermione quickly regains eye contact with her visitor.
“Jumpin’ June bugs! I didn’t even hear you walk up.” Hermione exclaimed once she caught her breath. “I didn’t expect you to be quite so prompt. I’ve still got a few things to do before I’m ready to leave.”
“Well alrighty then, let’s hop to it.” Theodore slinked past Hermione through the slim doorframe, picking up the broom on his way by. Shrugging in acceptance, Hermione set herself to another task and began organizing the loose papers scattered on her desk. The day's mathematics quiz stacked neatly and tucked in a folder, to be graded during silent reading the following morning.
Two sets of hands had her end of day routine getting completed earlier than expected. Hermione was grateful, as a perfectionist, she typically insisted on doing everything herself and working herself late into the afternoon.
Theodore insisted on carrying Miss Hermione’s bags for the duration of their walk. They passed the blacksmiths, greeting him in kind. Theodore appraised the metalwork visible in Mr. Finnegan’s workshop as they strolled past, nodding at his craftsmanship in approval.
Giving the greenhorn a tour of Hogwarts allowed for Hermione to view the unimpressive town with a new perspective. The same ten buildings get a touch boring after a while but giving Theodore the lay of the land was refreshing.
“And over there beside Minnie’s Mart is the bank and the court house is just across the street from that. Judge Albus lives on the other side of town but it feels like he’s always locked up in that office.” Hermione explained, pointing to the oldest buildings in Hogwarts.
The bank, a two-story building painted the colour of cotton and leaning harshly to the right. Large slanting pillars framed the front entrance through which customers passed infrequently. The bank only staffed two employees. A teller around Hermione’s age, a tall dark-skinned gentleman named Mister Thomas, and the bank manager who sported a familiar head of red hair. Ron’s older brother Percy had inherited ownership of the bank during the same year Hermione arrived in the unassuming town.
The courthouse was the only building made of stone. Nobody in town seemed to remember the law-house being built, as if it had always been there and the town was merely constructed around it. A permanent chill hung in the air of the aged halls and while walking around, one’s footsteps echoed something fierce. It was occupied by the oldest living resident of Hogwarts, Judge Albus Dumbledore. An off-putting bearded man who more often than not spoke of the future like it was common knowledge.
Sporting his usual round brimmed hat, the old-man could be seen through the tinted windows of the courthouse. As Theodore stole a glance inside, the judge's eyes snapped to his knowingly. A chill now creeping down the young cowboy’s back, he shuddered slightly.
“Right. Moving On.” Theodore picked up the pace, causing Hermione to hurry after him, kicking up a thin cloud of dust as she went. Determined to get the lay of the land, he pointed to a short brown structure on the very edge of town and continued on, “Let me guess, the esteemed offices of Sheriff Potter?”
“You mean the county jail? Yes.” Hermione rolled her eyes at his description of Harry’s workplace. Thinking back to the two men’s tense but limited conversation, Hermione laughed to herself. “Although I imagine Harry would rather give you the tour himself.”
“Ah, he’ll come to appreciate my refreshing sense of humour, once he realizes I ain’t gonna make a move on his lovely wife.” Theodore brushed off Hermione’s jab, confident in his charming disposition and likeability.
“You’re so right, Theodore. I say, let’s invite Mister and Missus Sheriff to join us on our ride up the ridge.” Hermione called his bluff, attempting to cross the street and speak with Harry, she looked back once to see if Theodore would cave.
Despite his initial objection, Theodore could not come up with a suitable reason to bar the sheriff from being invited. Not one that would convince Miss Hermione, anyways. All that came to mind were childish, easily dismissable excuses or something a little too close to truth.
Theodore’s reasons for arriving in Hogwarts did not include becoming hombres with any lawmen, or any men for that matter. He had a job to do and getting attached to folks made things messy. He’d simply have to maintain some mystery and keep the young townsfolk at arms length.
“Well, are you coming or-” Hermione asked, head still turned backwards, completely oblivious to the large mountain lion prowling towards her.
Acting without thinking, in two long strides Theodore had reached Miss Hermione, shoving her behind him. Simultaneously, he slid his hand into the back of his waistband, pulling free a polished Colt and firing in the air.
Startling the large cat into a run in the opposite direction, the single gunshot served its purpose.
And more.
Mere seconds later, an unshaven Harry Potter bursts out the front door, shotgun in hand. Wild green eyes scanning the street before him and catching on the unfamiliar young gentleman's right hand and the weapon within.
“What the blazes is happening out here?!” Harry demanded but his question was interrupted by a frantic, rumbling voice.
“FLUFFY?!” A beast of a man stepped into the middle of the street, a thick slab of meat in one hand and a chain in the other. He had thick brown hair that passed his shoulders and looked to be twice the size of any man Theodore had ever seen. The large man dragged his feet when he walked and spoke with a quick accent that not many could understand.
“Hagrid, has that damned creature of yours gotten out again?!” Harry hollered, the patience for his friend dwindling every time he heard a complaint of one of Hagrid’s animals roaming the streets of Hogwarts.
“Creature?” Hagrid looked aghast, clearly insulted at the judgement toward his pet . “That stout sumbitch is misunderstood, is all. Same goes fer the other animals down at the Hut.”
“I know that, hombre, but this can’t keep happening. You’re scaring folks, Hagrid.” The young sheriff attempted to reason with the man, knowing Hagrid had raised the wildcat since it was a mere kitten. He knew the man had a gift with animals, but Harry was brought up believing ‘one can’t fight their true nature’. He feared that sometime soon, Hagrid’s little pets were going to wreak havoc on the small town.
“Scaring folks?” Theo shouted, baffled at the perceived normalcy towards the situation. “Christ, Miss Hermione was nearly cat-food.”
“Now there’s no use cussing, Mister Teddy.” Hermione chastised, swatting the man on his shoulder. When her eyes met his, Theodore could see her attempting to piece together the stranger in front of her, and could tell she was making her own judgments. “Besides, it seems like you’ve got a quick enough draw.”
“Indeed.” Sheriff Potter agreed, his eyes raking over Mister Teddy in skepticism. Harry Potter was always quick to defend anyone, but never was he quick to trust them.
Unsure of what exactly he was looking for in the stranger's behaviour, Harry glanced between him and his close friend; noting the way Theodore was standing in front of Hermione. Perhaps it wasn’t intentional, but he had positioned the woman in such a way that his body could shield hers at a moment's notice.
“Bit on edge, Mister Teddy?” Harry inquired, irritating the man in question.
Really, what sort of question was that?
“He’s got a right to be shaken, Harry.” Hermione, much to Theodore’s surprise, came to his defence. “It’s not everyday folks come face to face with a hundred pound wildcat. And seen as it has yet to be caught, I guess we’ll just have to wait on that horse ride.”
“Horse ride?” Harry asked suspiciously, suddenly uncomfortable with how close the two had gotten practically overnight.
What were they even doing here together in the first place? Harry’s concern was written plain as day across his face.
Hermione huffed loudly. After a long day and a sudden change of plans, she was not in the mood to explain herself to anyone. Let alone one of her nosey friends, honourable intentions or not.
“If you must know, we came here to invite you and Gin to tag along. So whatever is running through that mind of yours, Harry Potter, you put it to bed.” Hermione scolded, gaining a reproachful nod from the sheriff, like a student in trouble, and a chuckle from Theodore.
“Mighty youthful indeed.” He muttered to himself, earning a thin swift elbow to the gut that left him sputtering to catch his breath. Groaning, he breathed out, “Not. Fair.”
Smiling to herself, Hermione skipped away to give Harry a kiss on the cheek and mutter a quick goodbye. Allowing Theodore a moment to compose himself before she continued the tour.
The rest of the walk was uneventful in comparison. No other wild animals were seen, or gunshots fired. Theodore was shown the empty barbershop and the melancholic general store, which in the remaining sunlight, was shadowed by the imposing steeple of the run-down church. He committed the layout to memory, taking note of everyone bustling about. His gaze drew to the man speaking with Miss Minnie outside her store. His familiar grey eyes stopped Theodore in his tracks, stumbling slightly, he feigned unmotivated curiosity.
“And who’s that there talkin’ to Miss Minnie?” Theodore pointed off-handedly at the black haired man.
As they got closer, the man's copious tattoos came into focus and Theodore knew the man’s name before it left Hermione’s lips.
“That is Sirius Black, that is. The infamous outlaw.” Hermione replied but did not look at the older man, as she had always found him slightly off . Some townsfolk said he went to prison for 12 years for killing a man in cold blood. Others would say he was framed. There was even talk of him being apart of a satanic cult. All Hermione knew for sure was that the man was Harry Potter’s godfather and that his gaze was haunted, by what she needed not know. “His picture was on the posters a while back.”
Despite Theodore’s mind racing a mile a minute, he managed to mutter, “Never heard of him.”
-------
Dinner that night was a friendly affair. The two acquaintances supped at Wrackspurts, having fried chicken, pan-bread and fresh vegetables from Miss Lovegood's garden.
During the meal, Theodore revealed he was going to write to a few friends back home to let them know about the fair. Possibly even invite them up for it’s duration. Hopefully he will have inspected some property by then, and he could get their opinion before buying.
Hermione thought he sounded completely reasonable. She revelled at the idea of fresh faces coming to their small town, perhaps the fair would bring one of them ‘rowdy so-and-so’s’ Ron was always mentioning.
Or hopefully, just a change of pace.
A broad mind in a small town bores quickly. She always had her books, and she supposed reading about adventure would just have to be enough to suit her for now.
Or forever.
Though she could not yet imagine resigning herself to a life without any dreaming.