Closed RP: Henry and Camilla get...surprised.

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

McCormack, Monagle, and White 4 November 2007
9738 Oxford Way
London

or

McCormack, Monagle, and White
676 Knockturn Alley
London

To Miss Camilla Macaulay and Mister Henry Winter,

I write to inform you that your request for a marriage license has been granted. The proper documents are attached, one copy for Wizarding records and one for use in Muggle society, should occasion require it.

I am pleased to assure you that Miss Macaulay's previous entanglement presents no obstacle to your aims, unless Mr. Papen should choose to file claim with the Ministry, at which point I believe a colleague of mine may be of immense use in disposing of that problem. So far as the Muggle world is concerned, Mr. Winter now has a new identity--the appropriate documentation will be sent along presently. All pertinent details remain the same, save for family and place of birth.

The process of creating documentation for Mr. Winter would have been far easier had I been supplied with more detailed information. Perhaps you were not aware that on the Marchbanks side of the family, Mr. Winter has living relatives in the wizarding world, a circumstance that obliged me to be considerably more creative in devising a fictitious identity.

What preliminary inquiries I myself have made did not meet with a promising welcome. It would seem that the Marchbanks scion from whom Mr. Winter descends had been born a Squib. I surmise the unfortunate individual must have been disowned. In any event, Mr. Winter is ineligible to inherit any part of the Marchbanks estate. I have avoided re-establishing this family connection in the new records that as per your request I have created. Further inquiries into this branch of the family should be addressed to Madam Griselda Marchbanks, in care of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, whose acting head she remains.

The enclosed documents should provide all that is needed by way of identification and official paperwork. The marriage license has also been enclosed and I have managed to waive any necessity for you to appear at the Ministry in person for the signing of papers. Your officiant and witnesses should sign the license and attached affidavits, upon which time they may be returned to me.

Your generous remuneration has been received by my office and I look forward to the continuance of a long and pleasant professional relationship.

sincerely,

Quentin McCormack

Comments

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

It was Camilla who received the message first, and read it; she and Henry had retained this attorney jointly, or rather Henry had retained the man on Camilla's behalf back when the tent village debacle had begun; in any case, it was addressed to both, and warded accordingly. She did so appreciate a good solid warding on these kinds of confidential papers.

The first paragraph made her sigh in happy relief. There was that taken care of. She'd been afraid the bureaucratic side of the whole marriage business couldn't be handled quickly enough to meet the date Henry had set. The next paragraph made her bite her lip. Was their lawyer really suggesting they have a friend of his assassinate Richard? Maybe he just meant his friend could make paperwork disappear if Richard filed any.

The rest of the letter -- well.

Camilla had never actually met Henry's mother, only heard about her secondhand from Bunny. She knew vaguely that Henry's middle name came from his mother's surname, a practice followed by many well-to-do families. Some even gave their sons the mother's maiden name as a first name, hence Camilla's unfortunate uncle Orman. And she'd known Henry's middle name ever since she asked him what the M in his monogram stood for. It was all very commonplace and mundane, or it had been, anyway.

Family was important to Camilla in many ways. She knew it wasn't that way for Henry. She doubted he'd want to make any 'further inquiries', as the attorney had delicately put it. So she didn't rush off to present him with the surprising news. She waited until he came back to their room at the normal time -- his schedule regular as clockwork -- and handed him the letter then.

"Good news and weird news," she said, and pretended not to be watching him out of the corner of her eye as he read.

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry took it, both pleased and wary. This was Camilla--he loved her dearly, but he also knew that God only knew what she might consider 'weird news'. It could be something as simple as an oddity in the wizarding legal system, or something horrible as an edict decreeing they had to sacrifice a baby before the wedding ceremony.

"Well, good news first, at least," he murmured, scanning down the parchment--Camilla might not want to think the lawyer was suggesting he could assassinate Richard, but the thought pleased Henry to no end.

When he reached the middle of the letter he paused, and actually had to re-read a line. Well...Camilla was certainly right; this was definitely weird news. So he had living family, did he? Living wizarding family?

It wasn't often that Henry was truly caught by surprise, but even he couldn't face this one with unruffled equanimity. His mother had never said a word about magic--he thought it probable that she'd had no idea, meaning that it must have been his grandfather or great-grandfather who was disinherited. The thought was...bizarre.

"Wizarding Examinations Authority," he mused aloud. "I wonder," he added, with infinite dryness, "if that's the wizarding equivalent of the SAT."

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Camilla had nothing against standardized testing. It was some kind of necessary nuisance, she supposed. She knew Henry felt differently, however. It was one of the first little tidbits of information the twins had gotten when they'd joined Julian's class as freshmen and met the others -- Bunny, Francis, Henry, all a year ahead of them. Unlike Richard the twins had been accepted into the group immediately and ungrudgingly, had indeed cemented it in a way, leavened it perhaps; and they'd been entrusted with little confidences and bits of gossip by the others the way some people would offer housewarming gifts. Bunny especially liked to share chummy confidences about Henry, something Camilla had later come to suspect he did only as a way of showing off his proximity to the group's unproclaimed leader (a proximity largely owed to the Hampden Office of Residential Life's whim in assigning Bunny as Henry's roommate their first year). His terrible headaches, his insomnia, his little quirks of taste. Among the notable eccentricities had been what the twins decided had landed Henry at a place like Hampden in the first place. He'd refused to take the SATs. He had an aesthetic objection to them or something.

So, knowing this, Camilla was hard-pressed now to bite back a giggle.

"I think it probably is," she said. "NEWTs and OWLs. They don't offer those any more here, I don't think, if that matters. We're like one of those new age alternative schools that thinks grading is unhealthy, maybe. Or the Hat can't be bothered."

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry snorted. He rather thought it was the latter--that the Hat simply didn't care. He was glad of it, since he would have refused anyway.

"Well, given that pursuing this line of inquiry sounds singularly pointless, I think I'll let the matter lie," he said, though in truth even if it had been promising he wouldn't have bothered anyway. Camilla was right; family was not something that interested him, though he knew Camilla did not feel the same. "It's certainly...food for thought, I suppose, in its own way."

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Singularly pointless. Amused by the turn of phrase, Camilla suppressed a snort herself. "I didn't suppose you'd want to do anything about it," she said truthfully. Camilla thought she might very well look into these Marchbanks people -- she just wouldn't tell Henry about it, or try to talk to them directly. A quick request to the Daily Prophet archives might turn up some interesting things, or if not that, then the Quibbler. Even if Henry didn't know these people, even if they'd never laid eyes on him or he them (as seemed to be the indubitable case), surely some of what they were had gone into him.

Including magical talent, surely, via recessive genes? Hm ... it was food for thought, Henry was right about that. Ever since the people at St. Mungo's had undone the cranial damage left by his childhood accident, Henry's lack of aptitude at magic had receded by degrees.

More than that, though, Camilla was just plain curious. She'd never met Henry's mother -- only Bunny had; he'd said she was very young, and looked like Henry, black hair and blue eyes. Bunny had also claimed she wore too much makeup, but Camilla hadn't made very much of that at the time. Bunny could be fussy about those kinds of things.

She hadn't really thought about reasons why someone might wear too much makeup. She also hadn't really wondered about that mysterious accident Henry had as a child. There were a lot of things Camilla simply accepted at face value, in part out of disinterest. Why should she care? Now she had a reason to care: she was marrying into the family. She was becoming one of them, even if they didn't know it -- even if they would never know it.

She wouldn't say any of this to Henry. She accepted without question his indifference.

"It's stupid to think you'd want any part of their estate anyway," she said. "Goodness knows we pay that man enough that he's well aware we don't need any help. Besides, look at this."

And she handed him another letter, this one from Willow. (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1486971.html?thread=75005307#t75005307)

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry accordingly read it, his eyebrows raising. Well, that was welcome news, at least. He'd never actually met Willow, but Camilla had a knack for making useful friends (even if a few of them were murderers).

"No, we certainly don't," he said, looking up at Camilla and smiling. "We'll have to be certain and thank her especially."

Privately, he was thinking the same thing as Camilla, in a way--perhaps his family tree explained his increased aptitude for magic, after his head injury had been healed. Some people at Hogwarts were better at it than others, and while Henry was by no means extremely powerful, he was working on it. He was certain his mother didn't have a magical bone in her body, but it must be a recessive thing, like red hair. Perhaps it just skipped a few generations.

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

"We will at that. I don't know what she'll accept though," Camilla said, frowning a little. "She won't let me buy her a computer and I don't think she'll accept the one I lent her as a gift. I guess we'll just have to wait until she needs a favor or, I don't know, some help with something."

Having Henry and Camilla as friends could be potentially Very Useful in some situations. On the other hand it certainly hadn't done Bunny Corcoran a damned bit of good.

"Anyway I've been so busy with wedding things I haven't had a chance to write her back about it. I think I found a villa where we can stay --" she meant on their honeymoon, which they'd agreed would be on Mykonos -- "it's not historic or anything but it's got a lovely garden. (http://www.europeanhomerentals.com/greece/cyclade/property_palmtrees.cfm)" The villa was in fact historic by some people's lights -- built in the early 1900s. Camilla had been hoping for something older. It was the off-season; she had to take what she could get. Most of what she'd seen available in the brochures and advertisements she'd read were hopeless brand-new cookie-cutter things, furnished to please people with new money and little taste. (That Henry's family was new money really didn't concern Camilla. Henry had developed something approximating old-fashioned taste simply by eschewing all worldly things, it sometimes seemed; that, and emulation of Julian.)

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry smiled again. He trusted Camilla's taste implicitly; she'd find the best there was to find. It would be a nice way to cap (and recover from) the wedding itself. The thought of lazy days in the hot Greek sun was irresistible, though it might mean he'd have to forego the heavier of his suits.

"You know, I'm glad now that it's sooner, rather than later," he said. "I don't want to imagine the planning that must go into a large, elaborate wedding." He preferred simple, himself; he'd have no use for a massive church wedding, though of course if Camilla had wanted it, he would have done it for her sake.

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Camilla blinked. She blinked more than once.

"You're glad now? But it was your idea," she pointed out, a bit nettled.

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

...There was no possible way for him to try to explain this one, and he knew it, so he didn't try.

"I didn't realize just what a boon it would be," he said. "I had no idea how much detail could go into planning a large wedding, and thus had little notion of what a bullet we'd dodge by doing it this way." It was all true, too, perfectly true. It just wasn't the whole explanation, because he knew full well that would be wasted.

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Camilla didn't bother to point out the little gaps in logic there. For one thing, she was sure Henry must have put more than a little research into the question before he'd proposed: he'd have wanted to know exactly what he might be getting into. (At least she hoped he had. She still remembered him griping after Bunny's death, the first of the times the police had wanted to talk to him, when they'd kept him there a couple of hours: Honestly. Two hours. I don't know if I could've made myself go through with this if I'd known what nonsense we were letting ourselves in for.) For another, he could hardly have learned from planning this wedding how much detail went into planning a large one.

He already saw the gaps anyway, she was sure. This was Henry. So she just gave him a Look, gray eyes narrowed.

"You're impossible." Enough fondness tempered the pronouncement that they weren't fighting words, exactly.

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry raised a dry eyebrow. "Of course I am," he said. As a matter of fact, he really had done very little research into various wedding ceremonies, though more because he didn't want to jinx himself than anything else. Counting chickens, and all that, even though he'd never like that particular turn of phrase. And afterward, there really had been far too little time--what he'd said in jest, and she'd taken in earnest, really had been a blessing. Even if Francis was likely going to remain furious for the duration.

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Camilla sincerely regretted upsetting Francis. She would have liked to let him fuss over her. They would have had such fun looking at dresses and things.

She still suspected Henry must have reasons, serious ones, for wanting to rush things this way. Maybe some enchantment was staving off all Charles's expected anger, and at midnight on Wednesday it would wear off. Maybe if they didn't get married within the year one of them would turn into a toad or a pumpkin, God only knew what. It was Hogwarts. And it was Henry. And Camilla guessed she had better just go along with whatever he had in mind, because generally Henry knew best.

"You are," she reiterated anyway, stubborn as ever. "I don't think you'd care if we got married in the library or something, by the librarian, whom incidentally I've never even seen."

A pause.

Then a sheepish look.

"I ... don't know who's going to marry us, actually. Did you find anyone?" God, she hoped that hadn't been something she was supposed to be doing.

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry only smiled, still dry. "I know," he said, and did not add aloud, And that's why you're marrying me. While he knew (or thought he knew) full well that she liked it, he was smart enough not to say such a thing outright.

She was right; he really wouldn't care. The marriage was what counted, rather than the ceremony, and while certainly a nice ceremony would be preferable to a hurried one, it was not ultimately what mattered.

He tapped out a cigarette. "As a matter of fact, I have," he said. "That interestingly-dressed person we saw at the party turned out to be none other than Merlin. I asked if he'd be kind enough to officiate."

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Getting married in the library by the librarian would actually be a very nice thing indeed, as easy as getting a library card, and as quiet, Camilla's wandering thoughts conjectured --

-- Henry did not just say 'Merlin', did he?

"That man in the funny coat was Merlin? The one whose beard and hat and --" she coughed delicately -- "anatomy I keep hearing people swear about?" Oh, goodness, this was really too much. Surely Henry wasn't joking. He wouldn't joke about their wedding, Camilla was sure. Their wedding was a deadly serious matter. But -- Merlin?

"I met Batman the other day," she remarked blandly. "Maybe he could help too?"

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry gave her a Look. Just as Camilla's smiles had subtle variations, so did Henry's Looks; this one said, quite clearly, ...riiight.

"The same," he said. "I will add that he seems unaware that people swear by his anatomy, and I rather hope he doesn't find out." His Look turned as bland as her voice had been. "And I'm sorry, but I don't believe Batman counts as a religious figure anywhere, in any world." He paused. "And if he does, I certainly don't want to know about it."

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

"He told me (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1479188.html?thread=74686740#t74686740) he was a myth, actually. So he's a legend the same as Merlin is." Untold effort went into maintaining the bland tone, the carefully neutral face, the arch of the brow not too high. "He wasn't very obliging, though. He probably wouldn't be willing to play second fiddle to Merlin. Oh, well."

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

Henry's whole expression went bland as oatmeal, though inside he was torn between laughter and irritation. "I don't think I could stand being married by a man dressed as a giant bat, either," he said. "Merlin assured me the feathered coat would not figure in the ceremony."

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

"I'm not sure which one Francis would take longer to forgive us for, a giant bat or a bird coat." Camilla had the childish urge to stick out her tongue. She wouldn't for the world let on. "Just please tell me he isn't going to wear, you know, purple robes with moons and stars on them, either."

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

"I'd think the bat," Henry said, still completely straightfaced. "Too much black." He took a long draw off his cigarette, and said, "Purple robes shouldn't figure, really. Merlin was in truth much like a druid." He knew Camilla was amused, and would carry this on for some time, so he settled in to be as dry and uninformative as he could be.

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

"Francis likes black. He wears black all the time. I'm glad you're sure there won't be any purple robes, though. If you're absolutely sure. I can't possibly be expected to wear purple robes myself, either."

Though if Henry had wanted her to wear purple robes with moons and stars on them -- if he'd truly wanted it, seriously, for real -- she would have. She'd have worn a chiton made of sheets again for him, if he'd wanted. She would get married unspeakably soon by an improbable druid-wizard-person, because Henry wanted her to. And because he was impossible, and because, yes, she liked that he was.

"Also no pointy hats."

Mercurial, her mood shifted. She pulled her legs up under her to sit Indian-style on the bed; she was wearing an old pair of slacks, almost threadbare at the knees, infinitely comfortable. (A librarian might let her get married in them, if she were going to get married in the library, maybe?) "You mean a druid as they were in Roman Gaul (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Druid#Roman_sources)? So really he's sort of like a lawyer himself, or a judge."

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

"What you say is true," Henry said, with another dry quirk of an eyebrow. "He does not, however, make a habit of dressing as a bat." A pause. "That we know of, anyway."

He watched her as she stretched, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I promise, there will be no pointy hats," he said. "Or robes, of any kind. Merlin seems an amiable sort, and I doubt he would inflict anything on us we didn't want." He was, weirdly, one of the most peaceful people Henry had ever met, as though he'd made it through all life's trials and somehow found nirvana.

He had to think a moment, before responding. "Not precisely," he said. "He was a wizard, first and foremost, from what he's said--incidentally, he was not, in fact, sired by a dragon. He says he has no idea how some of the myths about him got started, or what the person who concocted them had been drinking at the time."

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

A synaptic spark connected a trio of images for Camilla: the idea of Francis dressed as a bat; Francis's infamous pince-nez; and The Count from Sesame Street. She had to laugh. She couldn't explain it to Henry because she doubted he'd ever watched Sesame Street.

"I thought he was sired by a demon, not a dragon," Camilla said, trying to remember her Malory. "Gotten by a demon on a nun. I don't suppose there were nuns existing yet to be his mother anyway if he was a druid. We're all wizards here, of course ..."

And suddenly Camilla thought she understood why Henry thought it was such a good idea to get married by Merlin. He was dead in the Muggle world; his new identity was of the wizarding world, and they'd be living in wizarding society now, however strange that might seem. And there was no wizard so revered in wizarding society as Merlin, apparently. Far from the comic notion Camilla had thought it, having Merlin perform a ceremony for you would have to be a mark of high prestige. It would be something like having a Church wedding officiated by the Pope.

Something must have changed in her expression at that realization. She blinked again, and looked at Henry with wide eyes.

"I guess he can wear whatever he wants," she said.

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

"He says he's half-human, but he didn't have a father--Queen Mab made him, because she wanted to use him," Henry said, raising a curious eyebrow at her laughter. He really wouldn't have understood, since he had only a hazy idea of what Sesame Street even was. "It sounds like a rather complicated story, honestly."

His look turned more curious still at her abrupt change of expression. He could never be certain just what went on in Camilla's head, so he had little idea what precisely had prompted the change. Perhaps she'd realized what he had already felt--that it would be hard for anyone to top being married by Merlin, who was essentially the founding father of wizardry as everyone knew it.

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

"Use him for what? I've read about golems and homunculi and things, but never a human being per se in that sort of context. Magical, that is." Camilla didn't object to the bit about Queen Mab. After all, she'd already met Robin Goodfellow. Shakespearean faeries weren't out of the realm of the possibly real, not at Hogwarts. Unicorns existed too, and dragons.