July 28th, 2006
|09:21 am - Confronting Aveline|
“I would rather none of you were here,” I grit my teeth as I try to maintain my calm demeanor as I wait for Aveline to arrive at my office.
“That is not possible, Randall and you know it,” Alvin Grubbs, the Senior Vice President of my company replies quietly as he leans over in my ear.
I swivel my head and stare daggers at him. I did not want my legions of Vice Presidents and Barristers to be present when I had my initial encounter with Aveline. Grubbs glances away from my deadly stare before Geoffrey McMahon, my Chief Barrister says slowly, “The by-laws of the company state that this is the proper way to handle this situation. Given that you have just returned to lead us, Mr. Worthington, I would suggest that you follow the regulations and allow me to handle this situation.”
I smile tightly at my father’s chief advisor and old confidant. It seems that ever since I became President of the company, McMahon has always treated me like a child still running around the building pell mell even though I have set profit records every year I controlled the company. He argues with seemingly every edict I decide upon and has chosen to oppose me at just about every turn.
McMahon is correct though and I knew when Mayne, the chief accountant was notified of the indiscretions present on Cleansweep’s ledger sheet when I took the company over again, my staff and board would be involved.
“I will be speaking to her,” I reply, using my most commanding tone.
McMahon opens his mouth to retort but snaps it shut quickly. Even though as chief legal council, he is supposed to speak, he knows I am much like my father and I will follow rules but I will not be denied what I want when I make up my mind.
McMahon steps back into the loose line of executives and barristers behind me. I hate that they are arrayed to either side of my seat like I am some type of regent. But I damn sure was not going to allow them to sit leisurely while this occurred. I want this to be over with quickly and people out of my office.
We sit quietly, the ten men and women standing around me stoically as we await the appearance of my ex-wife. I was not able to notify her of the reason I have summoned her but normally, we would send our security to arrest her. I was able to negotiate this meeting instead and now I hope that Aveline is able to prove her innocence.
I bring my hand to my head and rub my temples. It seems ironic that I would have clapped the irons on Aveline myself in the months after she divorced me. But now, I do not want to see her in any kind of trouble or hurt in any way. I do not understand my sudden compassion for her but now, I must try to find a way to defend her and her child.
My hand drops down when my large mahogany door opens and Sally Garden, my long time personal assistant announces, “Ms. Rousseau is here, Mr. Worthington.”
“Please let her in, Sally,” I reply while I hear the herd collected behind me begin to stomp nervously.
I take a deep breath as Sally stands to the side and lets Aveline move past her. Avie looks lovely; her long, lustrous black hair pulled back on the nape of her neck while her dress seems to be very business like but still accentuates her body perfectly. In a word, she is still beautiful.
But as I watch her eyes open wide in astonishment at my gathered employees, I know she was not expecting this. She nods at a few that she has met previously as I stand and hold out my hand toward one of the two hand wrought leather chairs in front of my desk.
Aveline walks over and seats herself while I say, “Hello, Aveline.”
She arches an eyebrow but maintains her cool as she replies, “Hello, Whizzy...why have you brought all your friends to our meeting?”
I am about to speak when I hear McMahon’s voice say, “Mr. Worthington is making an unofficial—“
I turn my head and give my most menacing glare at McMahon who skulks back into line before I face Aveline again and say quietly, “Aveline, there have been discrepancies found in the company books that occurred while you owned the company. There is evidence of money laundering, racketeering, embezzlement, and selling goods illegally. These are serious charges but I would like to give you a chance to account for yourself.”
I watch her swallow slowly, her eyes meeting mine and I see a mixture of surprise and trepidation there. She sits up and her back is board straight before she says calmly, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
I watch her features, searching for any sign that tells me she is being truthful and I am glad to see that there is no sign of dishonesty that I can see.
“You have been asked here as part of an inquiry into the charges I listed,” I answer flatly. I lean forward as I continue, “You will need to speak to us, Aveline. If you decide to not cooperate, we will need to bring in the authorities.”
“Whizzy, you must know that I wasn’t even involved with the company. I didn’t know anything about what was going on there,” Aveline replies and I can see a bit of apprehension in her eyes.
“Mrs. Rousseau, these are serious allegations. All of these indiscretions happened under your watch and unless you can explain yourself, you will be in a fair bit of trouble,” McMahon interrupts our conversation.
Before I can turn and reprimand him, I hear Aveline gasp slightly and watch as her hands move to her stomach. I suddenly remember Charlie’s warning the fateful night when he beat me without reason about Aveline’s tender condition and I begin to fret that the confrontational attitude of McMahon could cause issues for Avie and her child.
“My uncle, Luc Rousseau was in charge and I continued to work as an Auror,” Aveline replies quickly and I can see the panic in her eyes as she grips the armrests of her chair tightly.
“That does not matter, madam. The company belonged to you and therefore any unlawful acts…and there are a long list of them…are your fault and you are the one who will be punished,” McMahon retorts.
I stand quickly and see the cocky smirk on McMahon’s face. The bastard enjoys this, the torturing of my ex-wife and her child…and I find myself detesting him for his actions. Walking over to him, I pull myself erect and bring my face close to McMahon’s. He shirks away slightly before I hiss, “This meeting is done. You have disobeyed my orders and that will not be tolerated, Mr. McMahon. You are dismissed.”
“You cannot make me leave this meeting, Randall. I am the Chief Barrister and I have the right to be here,” McMahon argues while taking a step backwards.
“I mean you are dismissed from my company,” I answer while turning away from him.
“Your father--,” he replies and I pivot to face him again.
“My father is dead and this is my company,” I say evenly. I move around my desk before I add, “Good day, Mr. McMahon.”
“You’ll pay for this,” McMahon threatens quietly. There is a moment of silence and I wonder if I will have to call security to remove McMahon from the building but I see him bustle by me in a state before he walks out the door. I nod at one of my bodyguards to follow McMahon and watch him leave after my former Chief Barrister.
“What now, Whizzy?” Aveline asks hesitantly once McMahon is gone and I truly see the fear on her features now as her eyes follow me around the room.
Aveline’s hand rests on her stomach and I can almost imagine her calming her child…her and Charlie’s child through the gentle touch on her belly. She has changed so much and I can see the genuine concern she has for the child she carries and my mind drifts as I imagine Dorrie in the same situation with my baby. Aveline deserves better…not only for the child she carries but for the person…the mother I have seen her become.
“Get out,” I say, acid dripping from my voice as I face the nine remaining members of my inner circle.
“Mr. Worthington, this is highly irregular,” Grubbs finally speaks up as he steps forward. He glares at me indignantly before he continues, “We have a right to be here.”
“The next person who dares to countermand one of my orders will be fired summarily and I will make sure that the only job they will be able to find will be a driver for one of the Mr. Chippy vans. Do I make myself clear?” I say authoritatively and I see Grubbs wince. My eyes meet each of my executives and I wait until each bows their head before I move on to the next one. When I am through and each member of my staff stares at the floor, I say through gritted teeth, “Now, I said to leave.”
The nine ladies and gentlemen nearly trip over each other running out of my office and I watch until the door closes behind the last of them. When they are gone, I walk over to the large icebox in my office and pull out two bottles of water.
I walk over and offer Aveline one of the bottles. She nods as she opens the top before taking a large gulp. Afterwards, she sighs and I can see she is noticeably calmer as she smiles, “Thank you, Whizzy.”
I wonder for a moment what she is thanking me for before I sit down in the chair next to her. Silence ensues between us and I find I am at a loss of what I should say. It felt so strange yet so ‘right’ to defend Aveline but now that it has passed, there are still so many questions unanswered.
After taking another sip of my drink, I put the bottle down on my desk before I stare at Aveline intently and say, “We are alone now, Aveline and what we say here will stay here. So the first thing I need to know, is just what the bloody hell went on here?”
July 26th, 2006
|09:58 am - A Small Glitch|
“Sir, Mr. Mayne is here to see you.” Sally Gardens announces after she opens my door.
I have been back as CEO of Cleansweep for a week and it has been a never ending procession of people congratulating me, kissing my arse, or telling me about a problem. I have already grown tired of the position I almost declined again and I miss the freedom that working for the twins allowed me.
Glancing up, I can see in the dour features of Mr. Mayne, that he has an issue that I will need to deal with now.
Mayne came aboard with me as my chief accountant after my father died. He was let go along with most of my staff when Luc took over the company with a one year severance package. Thankfully, most of them were still in the process of looking for another position when I reacquired the company, so I was able to rehire many of my most valued employees.
I motion for him to sit down and signal for him to wait a moment while I finish signing forms authorizing the release of several more of the employees that Luc Rousseau hired when he took over the company.
After a moment, I complete the form and turn my attention to my chief accountant. Placing my quill on the table, I smile, “How can I help you, Mayne?”
“We have a serious issue, Mr. Worthington,” he replies in a tight lipped manner.
I stare at his pinched features and receding hairline, wondering if I look as exhausted as he does right now. It has been difficult to try to correct many of the errors that Luc made and the process has been tiring.
“Can it wait until tomorrow, Mr. Mayne? I have several more contracts to peruse and I would like to get home at a decent hour,” I reply while I rub my temples to try to fend off my impending headache.
“No sir. I believe you will be very interested in what I have found,” he responds while he reaches in the pockets of his robe.
I watch as he pulls out a tiny tube and then removes several pieces of parchment from it. He takes his wand and taps the parchment and they immediately expand until they are full size.
He hands them to me and I tilt my head curiously before I ask, “What do we have here?”
“I believe that there were some serious indiscretions under your ex-wife’s regime,” Mayne answers.
I glance at the parchment and after glancing at some of the highlighted figures, I realize that Mayne is right...this is a serious problem. Glancing at him, I whisper, “Are you sure these numbers are correct?”
“Yes sir, Royster found the first anomalies and I double checked them myself,” Mayne answers. He stands and leans over the desk, pointing at a set of figures before he continues, “Those numbers definitely show that there was definitely something happening here. Someone was laundering money through the London accounts.”
Furrowing my brow, I realize that this is not an issue to be taken lightly. Although I am sure this was Luc’s work, in the end, it is Aveline who is ultimately responsible for everything that went on at Cleansweep when she was CEO.
That one charge alone could send my ex-wife to Azkaban for fifteen years and judging from the number of highlighted figures showing signs of more money laundering and also bringing in illegal materials to England using Cleansweep as the carrier.
But I need time to think. I cannot let this happen to Aveline. We have just begun to speak to each other again and I am sure she could not have anything to do with this corruption.
“We need to keep this quiet until we figure out what is happening,” I command Mayne. Although it would be highly unusual, I need to be fully informed about what has occurred before I make a decision.
“I am not sure that is possible, Mr. Worthington. Mr. McMahon was in my office when Royster approached me,” Mayne admits and I gnash my teeth in frustration. “He said he would be here directly.”
Geoffrey McMahon was one of my father’s old cronies and has been Cleansweep’s Chief Barrister as long as I have been alive. Although he is excellent at his job, McMahon is ruthless and follows the letter of the law without fail. I still suspect that he worked with another one of my father’s old friends to overturn my nomination when I took over after my father died.
When Royster finishes his sentence, an ominous knock on the door sounds and my shoulders slump when the door opens and McMahon enters full of bluster.
“Randall, there is a serious issue.” Geoffrey barks as he walks in the door and strolls over to one of the chairs in front of my desk. The silver haired bastard sits as if he owns the damn company.
“I know that already, Geoffrey. I have already taken steps to reconcile the problem,” I snap, feeling once again like a petulant child around him.
He arches his eyebrow before he asks, “Are you going to have your ex-wife arrested?”
“No, that is not an option right now. I believe we need to speak to her first and I will ask her to come in to explain herself,” I reply while handing the parchments to Mayne.
“I believe you are showing favoritism, Randall,” he answers with a slightly superior smirk. “Your father would have handled this situation differently.”
“Of course, he would have done things differently but I believe my way will be effective and may allow us to avoid anyone going to prison.” I smile while tenting my fingers on my desk.
“Would you be so lenient if it was not your ex-wife? I do believe this is improper and I am sure your Nymphadora would appreciate that,” he responds and I can feel my rage begin to build.
“There are certain individuals who I might not consider being so benevolent with but it is my choice to discuss this with Aveline before I decide what will be done,” I reply while leaning forward somewhat.
“Then as per company policy, the board will need to be there to hear her admission.” McMahon smiles tightly and begins to stand.
“I will notify you when she will be here,” I answer while I watch Mayne begin to ready himself to leave again.
“You may not speak to her beforehand, Randall. That is company policy also,” McMahon says over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door.
“I understand,” I grimace and watch the two of them leave before I begin trying to figure out what to do about Aveline.
Current Mood: pessimistic
July 17th, 2006
|10:23 am - Shocked|
The worst part of taking a brief sojourn from the rigors of the real world is the reams of post which seems to collect while you are gone. It was so discouraging to find a mountain of parchment lying on your floor and knowing that you must answer them all.
“Good morning, love,” I sigh quietly. Rome was exhilarating and exhausting. Dorrie and I seemingly spent the entire time we were there shopping, sightseeing, and eating…especially eating. Of course, I cannot complain since we did spend the time we were not involved in these arduous tasks entertaining ourselves in bed and that was the highlight of the trip for me.
“I have a meeting with Moody this morning but I think I’m going to take a long, hot bath, Whizzy,” Dorrie groans as she awakens. I would love to continue our morning routines that we seemed to pick up in Italy. But I know she has got to go to work this morning and I do not want to make her late no matter my needs.
“I believe I will run downstairs and check the mail, love,” I reply while rolling over to give Dorrie a kiss.
“That sounds good,” she responds as she sits up quickly.
I fall face first into the pillow as I miss Dorrie’s lips. When I glance up again, Dorrie stretches and begins to make her way toward the loo…and I realize that our vacation is now officially over.
Sighing, I stretch and make my way downstairs. If this had been just last year, I would have torn into that pile of mail last night and stayed there until every piece of parchment had been read and answered. But being with Dorrie and the carefree lifestyle she leads has given me a new appreciation of life and for once, I do not feel the need to rush around to and fro to ensure everything is done.
But I procrastinate even further as I meander into the kitchen and fix breakfast for Dorrie and me. I work quickly on trying to prepare something for her. I have time since I do not have to As I put our meal of oatmeal and toast on the table, Dorrie makes her way down the stairs.
She looks resplendent in a light blue dress that seems to mold to her curvaceous body in just the right places. Her eyes light up as she spots the meal before she grins, “Whizzy, you’re a darling but I’ve got to get going now.”
Dorrie hugs me and kisses me softly. I wrap my arms around her and let go of her reluctantly when she breaks our kiss. I do not want her to leave…I have enjoyed having Dorrie around and I realize how wonderful a companion as well as a lover she has become now.
After she leaves, I find myself alone in our home. I sit and eat my oatmeal slowly, wondering what I am going to accomplish today. One lesson I have learned in my time working with the twins is that there must always be some time for rest. They have allowed me to make my own hours, only asking that I complete the tasks I have been given which to put it bluntly normally takes me about twenty hours a week. But I try to give them a honest week’s work although they never ask for any more.
When I am done eating, I place my dishes in the sink and decide to tackle the enormous bundle of mail. Walking into the front entry, I pick up the parchment rolls and place them on the closest hallway table.
I pull up a chair and open the first roll, scanning through the parchment quickly. I shake my head when I realize that it is an advertisement for a castle which Herbert C. Hannahan, estate agent extraordinaire has sold recently and it explains that he could help me sell my home too.
Rubbing my temples, I begin to pick through the rest of the parchment, finding myself quickly becoming bored with the tedium of this chore. I am about to quit when I notice a large parchment roll with Aveline Rousseau’s elegant scroll upon it.
I shove aside the other mail and center the parchment in front of me. I immediately begin to wonder why Aveline has written me. I am almost scared to open the roll but my curiosity overcomes me and I reach for it slowly.
Removing the band, I unroll the scroll and my eyes widen as I read what it contains.
…here to and forthwith, sole proprietorship of Cleansweep and all its affiliates will be transferred to Randall T. Worthington, Esquire pending approval of receivership by the Fair Trade Council of the British Ministry of Magic…
“Bloody Hell,” I curse in both wonder and fear. I reread the text, making sure my eyes did not deceive me before I fall back against the chair.
I own Cleansweep again or at least I will own Cleansweep after the company goes under review which could take anywhere from a few weeks to a year depending on the complexity of the transaction.
What would lead Aveline to give up ownership? After all, she took so eagerly to it after our divorce. It was hers and I have become used to my life, including my employment with Fred and George. Life has become so much less difficult since I began working with them and I have enjoyed seeing the efforts I put in helping Weasley’s expand come to fruition.
But as I stare down at the parchment, I know my mind is made up. No matter how little I want to be involved in the daily running of Cleansweep, it is my family’s business and to once again take hold of the reins will allow me to let my dead father and grandfather rest peacefully again and that above all is important.
My mind races as I stand and begin to make my way up the stairs. I rush to complete my hygiene routine, eager to figure out my next step. I decide as I dress that I must see Aveline and find out why she has made this gesture and if she has any expectations.
When I am ready, I Apparate to the Ministry building, finding myself nervous to speak to Aveline. We have not spoken much since the divorce and what we have talked about has been nothing more than superficial nonsense. So, discussing the return of Cleansweep would take out conversation past the point of speaking about the weather and that makes me anxious.
After I check in my wand, I make my way to the lift and soon find my way to the Auror’s floor. When the lift doors open, I try to find Dorrie to give her the news and after making my way through the busy hallways of the Auror department, I peek my head into her office. But I am sorely disappointed to find her absent before I remember that she is in her meeting with Moody right now.
Sighing, I decide that I will need to inform her of this boon later and I pivot, taking the familiar route to Aveline’s office. Arriving at her door, I knock on the wood frame and wait, hoping that Charlie is not with her again.
“Come in,” I hear Aveline call out.
I open the door and see my ex-wife staring intently at a parchment lying on her desk. I find myself suddenly nervous in her presence and I clear my throat before I say, “Aveline, I would like to speak to you.”
Aveline lifts her eyes when she hears my voice and I watch the sudden surprise melt from her features before she asks evenly, “Randall, what are you doing here?”
I really do not know what I am doing here. I should not look a gift Unicorn in the mouth but I have resolved never to take anything at face value anymore, so gathering my resolve, I reply, “I came here to ask you about some documents I received in the post.”
Her fingers tent in front of her as she places her elbows on the desk before she answers, “If you’re talking about the transfer of ownership for Cleansweep, there was no reason for you to come all the way down here. A simple thank you Owl would have been enough.”
“I do thank you, Aveline. But I do not understand,” I say hesitantly.
“What’s there to understand? You have your company and I do not anymore,” she replies while standing and turning until she faces away from me. “It’s simple.”
“Yes, that is simple but my question is why,” I respond while walking over to her desk.
Aveline turns and her eyes meet mine while she says sharply, “There is no why, Randall. I gave you your company back because I wanted to and I thought you would be happy about it.”
“I am very pleased but I need to know why you would make such a gesture,” I inquire again, trying to coax an answer from Aveline.
Aveline walks over and stands next to me before she replies wistfully, “Whizzy, your problem has always been that you question things too much. It was wrong when I took the company and I wanted to give it back to its rightful owner. Can’t you just be happy with that?”
I want to prod her further but I realize that it will get me nowhere. I know there is more to her motive for returning Cleansweep but for some reason, Aveline refuses to tell me.
So instead of continuing with my inquiry, I sigh inwardly before I smile, “I am very happy. Thank you, Aveline.”
I take her hand and hold it for a moment, watching her smile as I accept her gift before I step away and slowly leave Aveline’s office.
Current Mood: surprised
July 14th, 2006
|11:03 am - Tour Guide|
There is an ambiance to Rome that invigorates me every time I come here and ever since the first time I visited here with the Answorth School of Magic when I was eight, I have found that this is one of my favorite places on earth
I have saved one of my favorite attractions in Rome for our last day here and as it comes into view, I find myself smiling widely. Taking Dorrie’s arm, I want to rush her along but she stops when she glances at the Elephant Obelisk and sees the identifying sign for the street we are on. She laughs loudly as she pulls on my hand and says, “The Piazza Minerva…we’ll have to tell the Headmistress about this when we get home.”
My mouth gapes open and I stare at her in wonderment. Only Dorrie would think of that at this moment. I have found in our time together that she often muses on some rather odd things at the strangest times. But I have learned to accept her quirkiness…except for yesterday when it seemed that she had lost her mind as she somehow took us into one of the seedier parts of Rome. I truly believe that only Dorrie could find a restaurant which seemed like the health inspectors had avoided for the past five years. But all in all, our vacation together has been wonderful and I know I will always cherish this time we have spent together.
“Yes, McGonagall will be thrilled,” I reply sarcastically.
Dorrie punches me in the arm playfully before she responds, “You’re always so focused on the prize that you forget about the little things like that sign.”
I want to argue but I have nothing to say to contradict her retort. I know that often I become so engrossed in a particular subject that may overlook something but I have tried to improve my attention to those things that count…like Dorrie.
“Would you like me to take a picture for her?” I ask while I fumble for the camera hanging around my shoulder.
“No, we’ll just tell her when we see her again,” Dorrie answers and furrows her brow.
“Well, if we’re not going to take a photo, can we move along?” I inquire.
“Yes, Whizzy, you can show me the Palladium now,” she smiles wryly before we begin to move down the street.
“It is the Pantheon, Dorrie,” I say with a hint of exasperation but when I look over at her, I can see the glint of mischievousness in her eyes.
“Oh really?” Dorrie smirks as we stand in front of the building.
“The Pantheon is one of the marvels of the ancient world.” I wax philosophically as we enter the building. I breathe deeply, losing myself in the sheer magnificence of this place. “It amazes me that it is still standing after all these centuries.”
“It is beautiful. You can almost feel the history,” Dorrie replies in almost a reverent tone as she gazes at the walls.
Smiling at her, I point up toward the ceiling and her eyes follow my finger. She gasps as she looks up and sees the opening in the ceiling and the round dome that surrounds it. I put my arm around her waist and stare up toward the heavens with her while I say quietly, “It is a wonder that the Romans could build something like that and every time I see it, I am in awe of their abilities.”
“It’s beautiful,” Dorrie replies. “It’s like the Gods can look right in on us.”
I begin to walk away from Dorrie as I lose myself in the moment. The air seems to be electric for me as I walk where Hadrian and other Romans throughout history have walked. I move toward one of the walls and place my hand on it while commenting, “They built it for the seven Gods they worshipped back then and the seven planets that were known.”
Moving along the wall, I continue, “The niches around the wall held statues of Hadrian, Caesar, and Augustus. Then if you think that since the Renaissance, the Pantheon has been used as a tomb, who knows who might be buried here.”
I wait for Dorrie to respond but I do not hear her speak, so I continue to move around the building. Seeing a beam of sun hitting the floor, I walk into it and look up while I say, “They call the hole in the ceiling the Great Eye or Occulus. It not only allows terrific view to the heavens but it helps to make sure the dome works along with acting as a ventilation and cooling system.”
“How does that work?” An unfamiliar voice calls out from behind. I turn around and am surprised to see seven people following me including a smiling Dorrie.
I stammer a bit, stunned by the crowd that seems to be following me. Gathering my wits, I smile before I say, “Um, it is a ventilation system and allows air in although the entire building is designed to let some type of air flow through it.”
A young man in an awful khaki safari shirt raises his hand and waits until I acknowledge him. He clears his throat before he inquires, “Didn’t Julius Caesar build this for his wife?”
“No, Caesar really was not around long enough as emperor to build something like the Pantheon,” I reply. “The original was built by Marcus Agrippa but it burned down in 80 AD. Then the Emperor Hadrian rebuilt it in its current splendor in 125 AD. He loved Greek culture and you can see the influences in the architecture. It is a beautifully designed that has withstood the test of time.”
A rotund woman raises her hand and I nod at her before she says, “I don’t understand how they built the dome”
“It would be difficult to build this dome in modern times unless you used magic.” I snicker before I glance over at Dorrie. She smiles at my inside joke as do the Muggles who surround us, although for a completely different reason. I wait for their laughter to die down before I continue, “The way the dome is held up is that the Romans did a marvelous job of taking the weight from the center of the dome. They also used a weaker concrete mixture as they moved toward the middle of the dome, so the weight would be bourn toward the outside of the dome where the walls are located.”
“Thank you, signor, but this is my tour group,” A rather upset man in a red tie huffs at me as I finish. Several people following me sigh loudly and I frown at them, conveying my disappointment that they are leaving me.
“Grazie.” A young man from my impromptu tour group comes over and shakes my hand heartily.
After everyone leaves, I turn to the smirking mother of my child and ask, “Why did you not tell me that I was attracting a crowd.”
Dorrie walks up to me and hugs me tightly before she kisses me on the cheek. I wrap my arms around her before she responds, “You were doing so well and people started to peel away from their tour guide to listen to you. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that they couldn’t listen.”
Scowling, I pull away from Dorrie before I cross my arms and reply, “A little warning would have been nice. I believe I will have to find some way to punish you.”
She steps forward again and melts against me before she says, “Are you going to make me walk around anymore? Because that is punishment enough for a pregnant woman.”
“No, love, I have something more enjoyable planned for the both of us that would take place in our bedroom. After all, when in Rome….”
“Did the Romans do what I’m sure you have on your mind?” Dorrie asks.
Smirking, I put my arm around Dorrie and lead her out of the Pantheon before I say, “I believe they invented most of what I have on my mind, love.”
Current Mood: good
July 11th, 2006
|02:58 pm - All Hail Whizzy!|
Rome is an amazing city, one rich with history and culture that I find to be one of my favorite locations in the world. I have always enjoyed this metropolis and I am so glad to bring Dorrie here to share this wonderful experience with her.
As I lie herein bed this morning, I smile lazily while I place my hands behind my head. My work is done in the city and I have been able to secure a location for the next Wheezes along with delivering several parchments for the Italian Minister of Magic. So for the next three days, Dorrie and I will be about to explore the city.
“Whizzy, I don’t know if it’s the air or the wine but you’re insatiable,” Dorrie grins as she traces a finger lazily down my chest. I can’t get enough of her and even this morning, I found myself nuzzling her awake before we had a vigorous session of lovemaking.
“I think I just enjoy train rides and the feeling has lingered, love,” I smirk while I roll over and kiss Dorrie before I stand and stretch.
“What’s on the agenda today, Mr. Worthington?” she asks as she sits on the edge of the bed and takes hold of my half erect cock while her eyes capture mine, seduction playing across them as she stares at me.
“I believe we will spend the day in bed making love if you keep that up, Ms. Tonks,” I groan while I feel her lips whisper against the tender skin on the tip of my erection.
“That wouldn’t be a bad option,” Dorrie answers while she releases me.
I am torn for a moment about what I truly want to do right now. But my need to share the city with Dorrie wins out and I pull away reluctantly while I say, “Keep that thought in mind, love. After we see the city, I plan on bringing you back here for some more entertainment.”
“I think that’s a splendid idea, Whizzy,” Dorrie offers and kisses me on the cock once more before she stands and walks across to the washroom.
I sigh, realizing the moment has passed but I am eager to sightsee and once Dorrie has readied herself, I take a shower and dress quickly. When I come out of the washroom, I am pleased to find Dorrie in a sundress and once more, I am amazed by her beauty and how it seems to be enhanced by her pregnancy.
After a room service breakfast, Dorrie and I are properly fueled for a day of visiting Rome. We set out in the midmorning and I already know where the first place we sight see will be here.
“I believe that the Roman Colosseum</a> is the first stop on our itinerary,” I say proudly while we walk along the large avenue leading to our destination.
“That’s wonderful, Whizzy but are we just going to walk around it?” Dorrie replies excitedly and wraps her arm around mine as we move through the milling crowd.
When we stand on the boulevard in front of the Colosseum, I pull Dorrie close to me before I respond, “I have a bit more planned than merely gazing at the ruins.”
She tilts her head in curiosity before a voice calls out from near us, “Buon giorno, Mr. Worthington and his beautiful lady friend.”
“Hello, Mr. Paul Cappeleto,” Turning around, I smile at the dapper older man walking toward us, a fedora poised on his silver hair which seemingly matches his suit.
He walks casually up to us before he takes Dorrie’s hand and brushes her knuckles with his lips before he grins, “Are you ready for your tour?”
Dorre stares at me questioningly as Cappeleto releases her hand. I smirk softly as her before I shrug, “I called ahead and arranged a tour with Paul. He is one of the foremost tour guides of Ancient Rome in Italy.”
“Ancient Rome…I don’t understand…” Dorrie responds and I hear the small quirk in her voice.
“Signora,” Paul moves closer to us, his voice barely above a whisper. He leans toward Dorrie before he continues, “I am schooled in the same arts you are except that I use mine in providing a service for those who are willing to pay.”
“What Paul means is that he is going to give us a tour of the Ancient Colosseum.” I say, trying to better explain Paul’s somewhat hazy description of his job.
“How does he do that?” Dorrie asks as we begin to move inside one of the side entrances of the large arena.
“It is simple, Miss Tonks. I have always had a passion for history and my area of specialty when I was in school was illusion,” Paul’s voice echoes in the dark corridor. Dorrie and I stare at the ancient masonry. “I have studied Ancient Rome in detail but I have always found the Colosseum to be fascinating.”
“That is why I hired him to show us around, love,” I add while we continue to move through the grand corridor until we come to a smaller hallway. We turn to the right and find ourselves walking toward a small door before I continue, “After all, the luster and grandeur of the Colesseum is gone in modern times.”
At that moment in time, we follow Paul through the door and we emerge into an a naturally lit area and I watch Dorrie’s eyes widen when she realizes we are in the emperor’s area and the dilapidated ancient Colesseum has now become like new and surrounding us are thousands upon thousands or Roman citizens.
“How?” Dorrie asks as I reach behind me and put on an olive wreath which hangs on a wooden throne. A smaller throne sits next to it and several servants move around the chamber, bringing us goblets of wine and setting several small plates of food on the tables around the throne.
“I have worked hard with a few of my fellow wizards to create charms which allow us to have a brief glimpse into life at the Colesseum during the pinnacle of Roman society,” Paul offers as Dorrie and I move to sit.
I take a few olives as a chariot race concludes. The crowd applauds loudly when Dorrie and I take our seat and I wave my hand to calm them. I watch eagerly as a team of horses tear around the corner and gallop directly in front of our booth.
“Paul is only able to hold the illusion for fifteen minutes but it will be well worth the time to see what it was like to live back then,” Leaning over, I have to almost yell in Dorrie’s ear with the deafening noise from the crowd as they watch the race in front of us. I kiss Dorrie on the cheek while I continue, “We could have been slaves, gladiators, plebians, patricians or royalty. Well, I chose for us to become the emperor and empress of Rome.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Dorrie smiles while she reaches forward and feels the gauze material of the royal purple and red drapes that hang in front of the alcove.
“Believe it, my lady,” Paul announces from behind us and I turn and see he has taken on the affect of a Roman senator. “I have worked hard to perfect this illusion and while it is not perfect, it is quite realistic.”
A horn blast announces the next event and our attention is riveted onto the dirt floor of the arena once more as two large gladiators enter from different ends of the arena. They stalk toward one another and I can’t keep my eyes off of them. My eyes first take in a large blonde haired man who carries a shield and a large sword while his dark skinned foe wields a spear and some type of netting.
“It is a classic battle. The brute strength of the Germanic warrior with the sword and the speed of the Nubian warrior with the spear,” Paul says quietly and I nod.
The warriors begin to battle before the herald can even announce them. Dorrie gasps as the Germanic warrior flashes his sword at the head of the dark skinned man who quickly counters by stabbing his spear at the stomach of the pale gladiator.
The battle seems to be a flurry of blows and counterblows, each man trying to find an opening. I am mesmerized by the action and I start to believe that this encounter will never end when the dark skinned gladiator’s net catches around the leg of the blonde haired warrior who ends up in a tangle on the floor of the arena. The Nubian pounces and kicks the sword out of the hand of the Germanic warrior.
The Nubian places the spear against the pale gladiator’s chest and looks toward me. The crowd becomes frenzied and for a moment, I sit frozen until I realize that as emperor of Rome, the Germanic man’s life is in my hands.
I gulp deeply and stand before moving toward the ornate railing at the edge of our seating chamber. I cannot believe that I have been put into this situation but I know what my decision will be the instant I look again at the Germanic gladiator and think that he may have a family and definitely has a life worth living.
After taking a deep breath, I hold out my hand until it is perpendicular from my body and I smile at the audience. The Colesseum becomes deathly still as I hesitate for a moment before I stick my thumb up in the air.
A groan erupts from the crowd as the Nubian man backs away from Germanic warrior. They both stand and bow at me as something hits me in the side of my head. I look over from where the object was thrown to see a loaf of bread flying at me until it glances across the top of my head.
I duck as several more loaves skid across the floor of our chamber and I am about to hide behind the throne when it suddenly disappears. I look over and see Dorrie smiling before I stare angrily at Paul as I growl, “I thought this was an illusion. That loaf of bread felt real.”
“Well, we wanted a bit of realism,” Paul answers with a sardonic smile and I stand to look at a now deserted Colosseum.
I realize that the illusion is now over and I shake my head while Dorrie says, “I thought it was wonderful, Whizzy. I’d love to do that again but next time I want to be the empress.”
“A female leader of Rome? I do not believe that ever happened, Dorrie. We must keep it realistic now,” I reply while I hug Dorrie close before we break apart and Paul leads us out of the chamber.
Current Mood: amused
July 9th, 2006
|11:30 am - Orient Express Part 2 - NC17 for Adult Situations|
“I think Randall Jr. just kicked,” I comment when I pull away from her, my hand lying on her stomach. “I think we have a Quidditch star in there, love.”
“I believe that women can be great Quidditch players, Whizzy,” Dorrie replies, while weaving her arms around my neck. “Cassiopeia will be a wonderful player.”
“Cassiopeia? Is that the name you decided if we have a daughter?” I blanch quietly and stare in shock at Dorrie as the lights flicker by us while we make our way through the darkened tunnel.
“What’s wrong with Cassiopeia?” she queries, her brown hair curtaining to the side as she tilts her head. I have noticed lately how much longer her hair has become and the glow on her face that seems to always be present since we found out we were having a child. Her hand presses against my chest as she continues, “It’s better than Randall Jr. or Merlin forbid, Olive.”
“How could you name our daughter something I can’t even spell?” I ask while smiling at the beautiful mother of my child. I kiss her forehead before I add, “Do you have a better name for a boy?”
“I was thinking Pericles,” Dorrie says defiantly and I know she can easily notice my open-mouthed amazement at her choice of names.
“By the Gods and clotted cheese woman, there is no way I would have a child named Pericles,” I reply. “I mean----“
Her tongue dragging along my throat freezes me in mid-sentence and I gasp at the sudden skip my heart does at her surprising action. Her lips cover mine and I lose myself in her kiss before she murmurs, “Let’s not argue about names now, Whizzy.”
I nod dumbly as she begins to nibble along my jawline, her gentle teasing bringing about
the familiar need I have for this woman I love. I turn Dorrie around suddenly and she splays her hands against the cabin’s wall while lift up her skirt. My fingers take hold of the waistband of her knickers and I allow my hand to curl around her side. When my fingers dip between her legs, Dorrie groans while I lean into her ear and say, “I need to fuck you.”
My words still surprise me, but in a way excite me as I let myself lose control. I must admit that it was Aveline who began this process of influencing me to let myself go sexually. The freedom I have been given has allowed me to break down barriers that my own personal beliefs have built.
Dorrie’s breathing grows erratic at my utterance and my fingers begin to twirl over her clit. Her legs spread, allowing me access to her as my other hand begins to work my zip before I pull out my cock. I grind against her from behind as she turns her head to the side and sighs, “You want me here, Whizzy? Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Taking her hand off the wall, I bring it down until she wraps it around my length, pulling me toward her. I lean over and place my head on her shoulder, my thumb now scraping against her nub while two of my fingers slide between her folds. Dorrie gasps at the intrusion while I say, “I told you I wanted to fuck you, Dorrie.” My lips touch the satin skin at the juncture between her neck and shoulders while I continue, “Now, tell me what you want.”
Her fingers curve even tighter around my cock as she pulls harder upon my erection.
But I pull myself away from her, whimpering softly when her hand no longer holds my length. Her head snaps around, the dark pupils in her brown eyes swirling with desire. She reaches for me again but I do not allow her to touch me before she finally says, “Fuck me, Whizzy.”
I grunt my acknowledgement, the baser side of me once more apparent as I take my fingers out of her cunt and pull her knickers to the side before I bend my knees and drive into her in one smooth thrust. I begin to move, watching Dorrie rise onto her toes to accept me, her body helpless as she pushes against the paneled wall of the train and bends over slightly, allowing me greater access to her body.
Dorrie rolls her hips as I drive into her, the friction of her cotton knickers sliding against my cock exquisite. I tilt my body forward again, my fingers of my right hand reaching down once more under her waistband to find her clitoris. Her body rolls against mine, our movements in perfect synchronization as she pushes her hips backwards every time I piston my hardness into her.
She tightens around me, her inner muscles working against my length before her breathing grows more rapid and I watch her hands try to claw into the rich mahogany paneling with every stroke of my cock into her cunt. I know she is close and I strain to hold off my own release as I press my fingers harder against her clit. Dorrie moans loudly while I urge, “Come for me, love.”
Her head turns to the side again and I watch her close her eyes, her teeth worrying against her bottom lip as she nods her agreement. My fingers dig into her nub again and she cries out when I begin to stab into her in a particularly relentless fashion, my mind now completely focused on her pleasure. Suddenly, I feel her body tense and her walls convulse as a titanic tremor cascades over her and it seems her very skin thrums with her passion. She glows in the dim light as she comes, her body becoming nearly ethereal as she continues to shudder through her orgasm as she bites back a scream and whines, “Gods Whizzy, Gods, you’re so good now…”
I’m pleased by her reaction and her platitudes drive me to greater heights. My movements become more erratic until I take hold of her hips with an iron grip and drive my cock into Dorrie, listening to her choke back a sob while I empty myself inside her and growl, “Merlin, I am there.”
My body shivers and I wrap my arms around Dorrie, holding her gently as we both try to recover from our exertions. When I finally calm enough to once more control my body, I pull out of Dorrie, who sighs at the loss. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I take Dorrie’s hand and pull her to me while she asks mischievously, “Are you planning on the entire trip being like this, Mr. Worthington?”
Lying down, I see Dorrie scoot next to me before I answer, “No, Miss Tonks, I plan on us making love a great deal once we reach Rome.”
Current Location: the orient express
Current Mood: content
June 23rd, 2006
|10:52 am - "Walking after Midnight" NC 17 for Adult Content.|
“Merlin, Whizzy,” Dorrie gasps as she buries her head in the pillow. She grinds her body against mine and I feel her tighten around me. Dorrie cries out as she plummets over the edge, her body stretching away from me as I take hold of her hips and drive into her once more, watching a torturous shiver nearly devour her as it roils over her back.
I pull her hips back to me while bending my upper torso over her, taking my hand from her hip and letting it graze along the underside of her swollen breast. My tongue glides along her spine, feeling her shudder under me as I taste her succulent skin, the tangy saltiness firing my senses once more.
“I love to watch you, Dorrie. I always have…,” I murmur against her skin and bring my hand off her breast until it tangles in her hair, so much longer now since her pregnancy. The light brown color now shimmers as I watch it thread through my fingers and I turn her head toward me.
Her inner muscles grip my cock again and I hiss at the tightness of her walls holding me in place as her orgasm washes over her. Dorrie’s fingers claw into the sheet as she seemingly tries to crawl from my assault. I lean forward again, my teeth nipping at her ear before I drag my tongue along her jawline and capture her lips with mine.
She moans into my kiss, her body still quivering as we share our passion and I suddenly feel my own release battering against the tenuous barrier I have constructed to impede it. My thrusts become erratic as I pull away from our kiss. Dorrie sighs at the loss but when I grip her hips again and begin to stab into her with a relentless pace, she buries her head into the pillow again and mumbles, “It’s too much, Whizzy…too much.”
I feel my breath come forth in ragged gasps and I realize my resolve is gone. With a ferocious shout, I slam into Dorrie, watching her body shake sinuously until I sheathe my cock into her completely. When I am buried to the hilt, I groan loudly as I come, spilling myself deep within her as I cry, “Gods, Dorrie, I love you.”
My body tenses before I seemingly lose all feeling to my extremities and I pull out of Dorrie, exhaustion cascading over me. I roll onto my back, my arms reaching over my head as Dorrie falls onto her side. She props herself onto her elbow and waits until her breathing evens before she smiles, “Are you ready to go for a walk now?”
My eyes widen in surprise at her words. I cannot believe that this is the same woman who was complaining about being exhausted just a few hours ago when she came home. But this is the way Dorrie has been for the past few weeks, a bit erratic, but she does keep life interesting.
But I am exhausted and I find my eyes closing before something hitting my face jolts me awake. I pick the offensive material off me before I recognize that it is my trousers. I hope my indignation shows on my features before I say, “You must be kidding, Dorrie. It is ten o’clock at night and I am tired.”
“So you would let your pregnant girlfriend walk the streets alone?” Dorrie replies.
“I believe you could take care of yourself better than I could take care of you, Ms. Forty Ways to Kill Someone with her Thumbs,” I answer but I find myself pulling on my trousers as I speak.
“Yes, but I need someone to protect,” she smiles before sticking out her tongue. We finish dressing and move through the house.
“Well, then I guess I am your man,” I retort as we make our way out the front door.
Dorrie and I hold hands as we make our way down the street, each of us lost in our own thoughts as we make our way down the tree line boulevard. My thoughts drift back to the many times I eschewed Dorrie for work when we were first together and a tinge of regret rises in me again. But I know that I will never be able to get those times back and I need to enjoy her company now. It has been exciting to rediscover the closeness we once had for each other and above all, the friendship we have shared.
I can see now where it was truly my fault that I lost her in our previous relationship. I had forgotten what a wonderful person and a true friend Dorrie has been for me in my life. When we were married, I let myself forget just how vital the communication between us and the longstanding friendship truly was to our relationship.
“It’s still hotter than Hades out here, Whizzy,” Dorrie grumbles as we round the first block.
I know that Dorrie just feels the need to stay active while she still can. She worries that one day soon, she will be barely able to waddle out of bed and for one as active as Dorrie, I am sure that thought is horrifying. Smiling, I wipe off my brow before I chide, “You are the one who needed to exercise, love. I was perfectly happy with our ‘indoor’ workout. Besides, you have never felt hot until you have been to Southwest America. The deserts are nearly unbearable.”
“Are you talking about your time in Las Vegas, Whizzy?” Dorrie inquires and I pause. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize that I should not have said anything since Dorrie knows I was speaking of my time I spent my honeymoon with Aveline in Las Vegas. I could say it was during my time with Devlin Whitehorn in Arizona but we both know better.
“Yes, I am truly sorry, Dorrie,” I apologize while turning toward her. “I should not be speaking about that particular time of my life with you.”
“I’m not going to throw a fit, Whizzy. Go on ahead and tell me about it if you want,” Dorrie grins and I am immediately at ease. She has always been able to put me at ease about my faults instead of making me pay dearly for each one and it is one of the many amazing things that I find myself in awe in about this woman. She moves her hand up and bends her arm around mine before saying, “You can even talk about Aveline, but leave out the details about the consummation. I don’t want to hear about that. So what was Las Vegas like? Is it everything the adverts say it is?”
“It is amazing if you like bright lights and the glamour. I have to be honest, I did enjoy myself there,” I admit hesitantly, trying to still come to terms with discussing this with Dorrie.
“I’m not sure if I’d like that much. I might get distracted and trip,” Dorrie says with a deadpan look on her face and I snicker loudly.
“It is really a bit obnoxious,” I reply.
We turn the corner and begin to walk toward home again. Dorrie turns and says, “I can’t believe that Aveline would be able to enjoy herself very much there.”
“She was different there. It seemed that she lost some of her need to be so formal and maintain such control over herself,” I admit while I reminisce about the honeymoon I spent with Aveline in Las Vegas.
“So Aveline is able to loosen up somewhat?” Dorries snickers.
“She’s actually quite fun when you take her away from England. There’s a lot more to Aveline when you get here away from work,” I say quietly, thinking about the enjoyable times Aveline and I shared during both Las Vegas and our trip to France.
“That would be interesting to see. I think once the babies are born, I’m going to need to gather her up and take her out drinking,” Dorrie says excitedly as we come in sight of our home.
“I think that would be a grand idea, love,” I reply.
“Maybe I could take her to Muldoon’s or we could fly to Las Vegas or Paris,” Dorrie exclaims while we begin to walk up the stairs to our home.
I grimace at the Muldoon’s comment before I reply, “I think that Aveline is more of a Paris girl. I do not see her stepping foot into Muldoon’s”
Dorrie kisses me on the cheek as we open the door before she answers, “I don’t know if you’re right there, Whizzy. After all, she is with Charlie and he is definitely the Muldoon’s type.”
“Charlie may be crass but that doesn’t mean Aveline will sink to his level,” I chuckle, imagining Aveline’s reaction while making it through the teeming masses at Muldoon’s.
“What makes Aveline different, Whizzy? I love Muldoon’s and I know you’ve spent many a night there in the past,” Dorrie replies defensively.
“Aveline is different. She enjoys the finer things. I’ve grown up and changed, Dorrie and I hope you have too. That was part of our past when we were just out of Hogwarts and it is best left that way,” I say confidently as we make our way up the stairs toward our bedroom.
“No, Whiz. To me, Muldoon’s is still better than any of those four star restaurants you enjoy so much. Mickey has helped me through so much and I’ll take his greasy fish and chips over a twelve Galleon piece of Beef Wellington any day. I can’t cast off those who are important to me so easily,” Dorrie responds while taking off her clothes.
I open my mouth to retort but she is right. Maybe I do forget the past a bit too easily and I need to readjust how I view things. I am always looking for the newest and most vogue when it comes to many things but maybe I should remember what is important to me…and learn to cherish those memories more. I watch as Dorrie gets into the bed while I sit down to take off my trainers as I say, “I think you may be right, Dorrie.”
“Thanks, Whizzy. I am going to make you take me to Muldoon’s for lunch now. I think I may want some fish and chips…and maybe we can invite Aveline,” she answers while yawning heavily.
Removing my trousers, I lie in bed next to Dorrie and watch while she curls into my arm. We settle next to each other before I laugh, “I’ll take you there for fish and chips, love. But if we take Aveline, it will need to be a happy hour. I would like to see her reaction to the first bloke who ‘accidentally’ touches her arse and bet on just how far across the barroom he would fly.”
Dorrie giggles tiredly in response before we each drift off to sleep.
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: curious
June 6th, 2006
|01:42 am - "Care and Giving" NC 17 for adult situations, June 6th|
“Gods, Whizzy, I just feel awful,” Dorrie moans n the early morning hours while we lie in the bed next to each other. I wake up instantly as she twists her neck from right to left and I watch sadly while her hand reaches around to touch the spot which hurts her so badly.
I stare at her fretfully while she shuts her eyes and I see her wince slightly. I can almost feel the pain radiating through her body and I know I must do something to help her. I sit up and shimmy myself against the rustic, mahogany planking of our headboard before I pat the bed in front of me while saying, “You should come over here and I will give you a massage.”
“Thanks,” Dorrie smiles wanly while she sits up and scoots in front of me before leaning her back against my body. I revel for a moment in the contact, feeling her melt against me and I almost want to forego the massage and see what else may happen.
But this is not about my needs and after reaching over and taking the ‘Bountiful Body Lotion’ off her night stand, I drip a liberal amount into my hands before rubbing them together. Dorrie bends her body forward while I warn, “This may be cold, love.”
Dorrie groans when my hands touch her back and I slide them over her smooth skin, applying the lotion to the area she acknowledged hurt the most. I run my hands down her back, allowing my thumbs to rake along her spine, working the dwindling moisture from the lotion into her satin skin, memorizing every ridge and valley of her body for posterity’s sake.
I marvel at the subtle change her body has made to allow our child to grow inside her. No longer is she svelte, the somewhat sharper planes replaced by full curves now that motherhood can only bring. I continue my ministrations, my fingers working in small circles in the areas most needed and I see Dorrie visibly relax while sighing, “It feels so good, Whizzy.”
My hands knead her firm flesh and I wonder once more why someone as beautiful as her would ever want to use her Metamorphagus ability. Of course, I know the answer is to please cads like me who ignore her natural beauty and want her to become what we think we want. But in the renewal of our relationship, I have found so much that I missed in our first tour as a couple. I fully appreciate everything she has taught me and given me during these months together and I will be forever indebted to her for saving me from the pit of despair which threatened to swallow me.
But as my thoughts continue to flow, it is as if I cannot help myself when my fingers graze along her sides, until they scrape over the still firm flesh of her full breasts. Bringing my hands around to her front side, I flick my thumbs over her taut nipples, feeling them peak under my contact. Dorrie’s breathing hitches while I tease, “I am sorry, love. It seems my hands have a mind of their own.”
She responds by leaning her body into me once more, a different kind of tension inundating her now while my right hand squeezes her breast fondly before it begins to travel over her slightly rounded abdomen until my fingers reach the point between the juncture of her thighs. Dorrie throws her head back against me when my fingertips first make contact with her swollen nub, her brown hair cascading over my shoulder while she gasps, “Whizzy…”
“Stay still now. We have much more to explore,” I command softly while my hand slips through her dampened folds, my fingers charting the territory so familiar to me yet seemingly different every time we make love.
When two of my fingers slide into her entrance, slowly circling inside her, Dorrie tilts her hips, silently imploring me to do so much more to please her. I chuckle lightly at her slight desperation, remembering how she taunted me relentlessly over my confrontation with Little Bit and wonder for a moment if this should be the moment of my retribution.
But I am not that cruel and when I decide to casually brush my fingers over her clit, Dorrie’s body coils with a fraught-ridden tension as she turns her head and presses lips against my temple while she murmurs, “It feels so good, Whizzy.”
My hardness presses against her bottom and Dorrie reaches behind her, her fingers curling possessively around my erection. I throw my head backwards, feeling it ricochet off the headboard behind me but the pain that should register is dulled by my now urgent arousal. After a moment to recover, I bring my mouth to the side of her neck and growl, “If you were not so tense and pregnant, I would take you over my knee and spank you.”
Lifting my mouth off her before I worry my teeth against her skin, I decide that it would be a shame now to mar her flawless skin. Still, I cannot let her get away with her callous act without some type of reprisal, so I drive a third finger into her entrance while my thumb twists harshly over clit causing her to moan, “I think I like this idea much better.”
I sigh contentedly at her words while she begins to move her hand more rapidly over my shaft, her thumb now crossing over the smooth skin of my tip. My hips begin to buck into her fingers and I find the pace of my own movements over her clit quicken until I feel her body go rigid, the torturous tremor signaling her release wending through her body while I urge, “Come for me, love.”
The wave of passion coursing over Dorrie as I plunge my fingers even more relentlessly into her is nearly indescribable. Her beauty intensifies as she shatters, the caring mother-to-be replaced by a raw sexuality that seemingly hums through her body as the wanton enchantress rises from the ashes. Dorrie gives in to her need, her hand loosening on my erection and I can feel her body almost begin to rejoice while she cries out in exultation, “Gods, Whizzy…I love you…”
The coil within Dorrie unwinds quickly and her body shudders in response to the threatening ebb and flow of her orgasm until it finally recedes and leaves her slumped bonelessly against me. I remove my fingers from her while her eyes flicker open as I smirk, “I believe that might have been a bit much for you, Dorrie.”
“I’m just getting started,” she replies saucily, giving my length a mocking squeeze before she stretches her body forward and rises on her hands and knees. Her arse sticks proudly into the air and she waves it tauntingly before she adds, “I think the question might be if you are man enough to keep up with me.”
I tsk softly, shaking my head while I bring down a pillow and tuck it under her belly as I grin wickedly, “We do not want Junior to get a headache now, do we?”
Fire begins to consume me after my light-hearted comment, lust replacing laughter as I rest my hands on her hips and nudge my now trembling erection against her entrance. Dorrie levers her hips toward me and I slip inside her, feeling the welcoming warmth surround the head of my cock before I tighten my grip on her hips and drive into her with a ravenous hunger, filling her with one intense stroke.
“Merlin,” Dorrie whimpers at my intrusion. When my length is completely buried within her, I feel her inner muscles clench, her primal need showing in this simple act. Her hands fist the sheets above her as she pushes back against me while our bodies find their harmonious pleasure, the fluid form of the moment lost in the discordant rhythm of our coupling.
I begin to drive my cock into Dorrie with a rare fervor as if I have found a higher calling beyond this mortal plane and only through this act of passion will I attain my rapture. My cravings intensify and I feel myself surge into Dorrie with something beyond my lust-addled desire, my body now seeking nirvana within her.
Bringing my left hand off her hip, I leans forward, skimming my fingers along her side to cup her breasts while I drape my body over her lightly, placing most of my weight back on my thighs, causing them to shake uncontrollably. But I need this…our bodies seemingly melding together during these moments of passion and when Dorrie’s head snaps around, I see in her brown eyes liquefying under the pleasure we have given each other, that she also wants this closeness too.
“Not much longer,” I hiss, not knowing if I am speaking to myself or Dorrie and I am surprised when her lips brush against mine, the consuming desire rapidly building into a crescendo from her gentle act until I plunge headfirst over the edge. The torrent of emotion overwhelms me and I sheathe my cock completely inside her until I feel her walls contract around me. A loud groan, the sound of intense satisfaction, tears from my throat as I spill inside her, ecstasy found and lost in that single mercurial moment. I thrust shallowly as my energy is spent and somewhere far away, I hear my voice, distant yet so familiar, whisper, “I love you too.”
Her body trembles below me and I know that there is still one passage left to be written in our sonnet. My hand traces down her thigh again until it finds its way between her legs. My fingers press against her nub while my thumb scrapes against the tender skin on the underside of her clit. Dorrie exhales loudly before she begins to keen, the joyful sound of her release echoing off the walls of our home before she buries her head into the bedding below her. She speaks no words, but judging from the trill in her voice when she cries out and the following platitudes she murmurs incoherently into the sheets, I can tell she is more than grateful.
My length slips out of Dorrie as she rolls over on her back, her body glistening with perspiration from our exertions. I sit on my haunches, observing her chest heave as she tries to recapture her breath before she gasps, “I think I’m completely relaxed now, Whizzy.”
Smiling, I take her hand and bring her to me until I place her under the sheets, her head lying in the crook of my arm as we drift off into a blissful slumber.
Current Location: home
Current Mood: content
Current Music: "asleep"
June 5th, 2006
|06:18 pm - "Reflections and Ruminations" June 5th|
I have avoided my Grotto for months since Aveline’s unwelcomed intrusion on the solitude I craved on my birthday. She surprised me when she showed up unexpected and told me she still loved me after suddenly divorcing me just a few weeks earlier. But I had seen what had happened between her and Charlie a few days before, combined with the rekindling of my love with Dorrie and my distrust of Aveline, it led me to reject her out of hand.
Since then, it seems as if Aveline cannot leave me alone, showing up seemingly everywhere I am or worse, causing harm to my family and friends. I still do not forgive her for her atrocities, the pain she has caused me, but the pain has dulled somewhat and now, I have come to the Grotto to reflect on my relationship with my second ex-wife and my current love interest.
As I walk along the brick path leading to the small waterfall cascading into the clear pool of water that is seemingly carved out of the living rock, I wonder to myself why I have not brought Dorrie here. I trust her as my closest confidant. She has never torn my heart out, but this place is special to me and I almost felt as if I violated the bond I shared with my dead father when Aveline appeared here uninvited on my birthday.
But maybe that is not the reason. I shared this spot with Aveline to display to her that I did have faith in her and our then budding relationship. I gave her the only place on earth that is completely mine and I did so because of my belief that she would be part of my life forever.
Picking up a small stone, I fling it into the surrounding gloom of the forest on this late spring afternoon. Maybe Aveline does not understand what she did to me on that mournful day in January. My company was my family’s legacy and one that my grandfather built from a batch of a hundred brooms that he charmed with a new flying spell which he had designed. The first Cleansweeps promised comfort and pleasure for every Witch and Wizard. Aveline does not comprehend that my grandfather took his brooms and went door-to-door to sell them. Since then the company had passed from my father to myself and it is now one of the world’s two most formidable broom companies.
The blood, sweat, and tears that the Worthington’s put in to build that company was all lost that day she walked into my office and destroyed me. Since then, I have watched my company spiral downward into ruin. Sales are down for the first time in company history and if it continues along this path, everything my family has built will be gone.
But the cruelest twist of the knife was that Aveline was my life and I had given my heart to her without hesitation. It was a void that was opening quickly into a chasm when she left me and thankfully Dorrie stepped in to save me. I still feel guilt over the fact that I initiated her breakup with Charlie. Not that I care how it affected Charlie but I know the sudden dissolution of her relationship with him was difficult. But I have tried to be everything to Dorrie that I was not in the past and I hope that has helped her to fight the pain she must surely still feel at times.
Charlie was her first and I have come to realize that she still thinks wistfully back to him. Maybe that is why she is so close to that damnable dog that she bought him. She speaks to the mutt when she thinks I am not around, sharing stories of the past life she shared with Charlie and Little Bit. At first, the thought that I could not replace Charlie completely pained me but I have come to accept that Dorrie and I share a deep bond, a love that no one else would understand. Our love is not the raging inferno of passion that fueled my often contemptuous relationship with Aveline, but it is one forged by fire and it is through the shared experiences of life that Dorrie and I have grown so close. She has been there for me through the worse of times and now, I have learned that I must be there for her too.
Carefully rolling up my trousers’ legs to a point under my kneecap, I then remove my sock and shoes, placing them carefully to the side before I sit and allow my legs to sink into the cool depths of the pool’s water. My thoughts are much like the leaves which swirl endlessly in the small tidal basin that has formed near the fall itself.
Ever since my encounter with Aveline over Sally Gardens’ termination, I have felt terrible about my behavior. I allowed my frustrations to overcome me and in doing so, I almost hurt her and the child she carries. Still, I did not deserve to be treated so callously by Charlie and the bruising and cuts he surely delighted in giving me are only now just fading away.
That is one person I will never be able to forgive. He has betrayed me continuously and now, he has physically harmed me when all I wanted to do was see if my former wife was alright. I did not know that she had nearly had a miscarriage until Charlie informed me and all I wanted was to apologize for my horrific actions. But he kept me from her in his inane games and senseless jealousies.
Even though, Aveline hurt me in the past, it remains that I still care about her and despite the fact that she now carries his child while Dorrie and I are expecting our beautiful baby, I still wonder at times what would have happened if Aveline had not committed her treachery and we had remained in love.
Watching a dragonfly flit along the water’s surface, I think about the memorable times I had with Aveline, our first dance, our unexpected marriage, our time at her parent’s chateau…and I question whether those will be enough for me to fully overcome the pain she has caused me. I know I cannot avoid her forever although this time I have had without seeing Aveline has allowed me to at least bring into perspective my vehemence toward her and reign it in somewhat.
Oddly enough, it is the memory of our nights as Mr. and Mrs. Claus which seem to bring back the best memories. It seemed that this was one of the first times in our relationship that Aveline gave to me without hesitancy or without the offer of sex. She was generous and allowed her perfect features to be marred by my charm which turned her into a matronly old woman for a few hours. The coldness and tentativeness that always seemed to be on display melted away and she became even more beautiful to me as she transformed into Mrs. Claus.
Picking up and heaving a large rock in frustration, I watch it fall into the pool, the disturbance sending ripples that turn into larger waves as they crash against the side of the pool. I do not understand why Aveline divorced me, although I believe part of it was for my company, judging from the quickness in which she brought on her Uncle Luc to assume my position and from the speed that she had the divorce decree processed.
I know the law and it was almost three months to a day that Aveline served me, the minimum time that one has to stay married to another in Wizarding Great Britain for the shared property laws to come into effect. I realize now that is why she was so adamant about not signing a prenuptial agreement…a pre-nup would have forced her to accept only a small percentage of my wealth instead of the entire fortune. Shaking my head, I scowl as I think that at least she graced me with her presence over the holidays.
But still, I know that I have been vengeful and spiteful to her and for that, I have been wrong. Now, that I am beginning to come to terms with some of what has occurred; I realize that this island is only so large and I cannot avoid her forever given that since she has my company, we run in the same social circles.
So, I must come to grips with what has happened and try to focus on the cherished memories I share with Aveline. Although I am not able to forgive her yet completely, I can at least attempt to be more humane and apologize for my behavior. No one deserves as much hate as I have poured into my encounters with her. After all, we did share something special at one time…even if it seems so long ago and one day, I hope we may be friends again. She has been special to me and I realize that now, I just want her to be happy.
Standing, I unroll my trousers and run my finger and thumb along the crease before I put on my shoes. Dusting myself off, I glance down at myself, making sure that I am presentable before I stare once more at the pond, mesmerized by the whirling eddies breaking the supposed calm of the water away from the waterfall and I wonder when my life will ever stop being so turbulent. Two divorces and three relationships in less than a year is not what I had in mind when I pictured my life.
Shaking my head, I begin to walk away from the grotto as a saying my father would tell me seeps into my mind and with a small smile while I mutter, “You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well.”
Current Location: The Grotto
Current Mood: curious
May 24th, 2006
|06:01 pm - "Confessions and Commitments" May 24th|
I have been working diligently to make sure that the trip to Rome is profitable and enjoyable for both Dorrie and I. I have planned out our itinerary. We should have several days to explore the city once my business is concluded and the prospect of this time with her has made me somewhat giddy.
This needs to be a special trip for Dorrie because it might be the last one that she is able to be a part of since she will be entering the later stages of her pregnancy soon afterward. She has been working so much, although I know that she is exhausted and I want her to just have the opportunity to relax. That is why I have worked intensely to make this excursion memorable.
Of course, I have been unable to truly concentrate since Charlie’s vicious attack on me last night. I have tried to put the incident in the past but the behavior of both Charlie and Aveline has made it impossible. This has agitated me at different times during the day, but I have been able to work through it.
The front door opens and I step out of my office, knowing that she is home. I am eager to see Dorrie and I have made sure that I worked from home today so I can spend as much time with her as possible. But when she walks in the door, I see that there is an amount of rage playing across her features. It is mixed with disappointment and I wonder what has happened.
“Whizzy, we need to talk,” Dorrie’s voice is stern and I find myself flinching at her tone.
“Surely, love. But can we sit on the sofa?” I say cautiously, not wanting to further anger Dorrie even though I have no idea what has been done.
She follows me quietly and we both sit while I wait a moment as she composes herself. The tension in the air is palpable and I watch as Dorrie’s brow furrows in concentration before she says, “I spoke to Charlie and Aveline today and they told me what happened last night. Did you really call their child a bastard?”
I am flustered as I try to remember my exact words from the night before. After Charlie hit me, I forgot much of what was said between the three of us as I struggled with the entire conflict as a whole. But that part of the conversation does replay in my mind and it is with a great deal of hesitancy that I say, “I do believe that I did say that, Dorrie. But I neglected to tell you. I do apologize.”
“Why can’t you just leave well enough alone, Whizzy? You had no right to insult their child like that,” Dorrie answers and I hear the disappointment in her voice.
“I went over there for Sally and Aveline practically stone-walled my requests as if she did not care,” I reply defensively.
“She told me she offered a severance package and Charlie said that she was going to get her position back. What else did you want?” She asks and her brown eyes rage with a rare fury.
I sit silently, not knowing what to say or what to do in this instance. I can feel myself becoming more furious at this line of questioning but now is not the time to lose my temper when she is correct. I was out of line with my responses but she needs to know how I feel, so I answer calmly “I was wrong to do and say what I did. But Sally being fired was the last straw. They have ruined my company, Dorrie, and I know my father is turning over in his grave right now at the devastation that was once the Cleansweep Broom Company.”
“That’s still no excuse, Whizzy. Do you realize our child is a bastard too? We’re not married either. So on top of being an arse, you’re being a hypocrite also,” Dorrie’s vehemence hurts and I twinge at her denial of my excuse. She sits back and runs her fingers through her brown hair.
“We’ve been married. Our situation is different,” I respond, trying to find a way out of this particular discussion. Even though our child is a bastard, the circumstances are completely dissimilar in that I plan on marrying Dorrie and making our child legitimate.
“You still had no right to do that. If the tables had been turned and Charlie did that to me, you’d have been pissed also and done the same thing he did,” she replies tersely.
“He would not dare,” I gasp at the thought.
“But you did, Whizzy. You say the first thing that comes out of your mouth or do whatever you want without thinking about others. Sure, you always defer to me since you love me, but Merlin help the people who are in your way,” Dorrie’s eyes fill with bitter disappointment and I find that watching her now is the hardest potion to swallow.
“That is not always true. I just cannot get past what those two did to me…to us,” I declare quietly, my anger over this situation, the circumstances which brought me to this point, beginning to boil.
“We weren’t exactly innocent, Whizzy. The four of us made mistakes and we have to live with them,” she chuckles sharply. Her eyes meet mine and I almost panic as I wonder if she has decided to end her relationship with me before she sighs, “I’m happy with you, Whizzy, but your anger needs to stop. This isn’t about Charlie and Aveline. This is about us. Please Whizzy, learn to forgive and forget.”
I watch as small tears begin to fall from the corner of her eyes and I realize there is more than she is telling me. Reaching over, I take her hand and ask, “What’s wrong, Dorrie?”
“This just all hurts too much. I can’t stand the feeling I have inside right now. I can’t deal with all the hatred and regret. I…I…Did you know Charlie blames me?” She answers through a choked sob while she threads her fingers through mine.
“It was my fault, if it was anybody’s,” I comment bluntly while remembering the night that led to her eventual breakup with Charlie. “After all, I kissed you, love.”
“You did, but I didn’t have to respond. I was so confused,” Dorrie replies quietly. She shakes her head slowly as if trying to rid herself of the memory of that night. “I don’t regret us at all, Whizzy. I’ve enjoyed every minute with you or we wouldn’t have our child.”
Dorrie rubs her hand over her stomach and I find myself reaching out and touching her. She smiles wanly as my hand grazes over her tummy before I say, “I wouldn’t have it any other way…”
“Neither would I, Whizzy…but…” Dorrie pauses to gather herself and I can almost see the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. When she is ready, Dorrie’s eyes capture mine as she continues, “But I will not have you lying to me anymore, Whizzy. I need to know everything. There will be no more half truths between us and I will not be made to look like a fool because you have neglected to be completely honest with me. This is not how I want my child to be raised and if it happens again, I will leave you.”
I open my mouth to speak but when I let my gaze pass over Dorrie’s features, I realize that this point cannot be contested…and it should not be argued. Instead, I nod somberly, “I promise you, Dorrie.”
“Furthermore, the hatred you have for Aveline and Charlie will stop. You will either learn to coexist with them or ignore them, but I will not have my child raised in an environment of hate,” Dorrie states and once again I know she is correct.
I am a father now and foolish games must desist. This is not a game where I only affect myself, but I also can hurt the woman I love and my child. Shaking my head, I think that my child is a bastard also and I had no right, no matter my feelings for Charlie and Aveline, to use my displeasure with them against their child. As one of my countless nannies used to always say, ‘Happiness given is happiness found.’
“I agree with you, Dorrie,” I respond, trying to make sure she hears the sincerity in my voice. But I know there is more to say, so I add, “I also promise to think before I act. I cannot say I will always succeed but I will give it my best effort.”
Dorrie grins genuinely at my words and I exhale with relief at her comforting expression. Her hand runs up my shoulder before she comments, “That’s all I can ask from you, Whizzy. I want it to be perfect for our child and I want her or him to be successful and well-balanced. You know that all starts with us.”
She wraps her arms around me and her body melds to mine as we just hold each other for a moment and I feel the trepidation leave my body. But I know that this is a promise I must keep because I do not want to lose Dorrie or our child. Running my hand through her hair, I hear her sigh against my chest before I reply, “No love, you haven’t done anything. This all begins with me.”
Current Location: home
Current Mood: nervous
May 22nd, 2006
|10:54 pm - "Sex and Scrolls" NC 17, May 22nd|
When I purchased a small office space a few days ago in the Jade Tower, I felt terrible because I was leaving the home Dorrie and I bought to once more re-enter the world of business. But I was not productive at our home, often finding myself cleaning, preparing a meal and in general, awaiting Dorrie’s arrival. This meant that I spent most of the afternoon wandering around the mansion, trying to distract myself before she came home. I found out soon enough that I needed to separate work from home or I would never get anything done and although I am not the C.E.O. of a major corporation, people still depend on me.
Then I have had to stay late a few days, prompting me to even feel worse about things but tonight was the latest I have been away from Dorrie in months. But since it was for our upcoming trip to Rome and there was a firm deadline of midnight tonight to complete the parchment necessary to finish the transaction for a building for the next Wheezes, I had no choice but to stay. Even though I Owled her and I knew this would be a one night event, I cannot help but feel that I have let Dorrie down and prompted worries within her that I would return to my previous life of staying late, engaged in business activities.
Yet now, as I watch the lovely brunette witch on her knees in front of me, my hands threaded through her hair as she bobs her head incessantly on my cock, I think that this might have been one of my best ideas in a long time.
“Dorrie,” I groan through gritted teeth, falling back slightly until my bottom is resting on the old desk that came with the office as her mouth works against my length.
She stares at me, her brown eyes filled with salacious intent and I cannot believe that five minutes ago, I was preparing to leave after staying at the office until nearly eleven at night. I had hoped that Dorrie would be able to forgive me but when she walked in, I thought that I would certainly receive a very terse browbeating explaining to me that she did not want to return to our old arrangement of late nights at the office followed by a busy social calendar.
Imagine my surprise when I walked up to her and the woman I loved pulled my head down to hers and kissed me deeply. As our lips touched, I felt a need radiating off of Dorrie and when she dropped to her knees and began to unbuckle my trousers, pulling them hurriedly around my ankles, my suspicions were confirmed. She hasn’t spoken a word the entire time she has been in my new office and that is strange for her. But lately, it seems that her desire has increased and we have engaged in a few interesting carnal acts since our encounter after Charlie’s infernal dog ate my shoes, so this is actually becoming the norm.
Dorrie suddenly swallows my entire erection and I find myself fisting my hands even tighter into her hair. My head leans back and I can feel the tension in the muscles of my neck while I strain to stop my impending orgasm. She begins once more to move rhythmically along my length, her tongue dancing over the underside of my cock, playing over every ridge. Her elegant fingers reach around and surround the base of my erection, nails grazing softly over smooth skin and I wince at the sensation.
I feel the familiar urge begin to rise and I realize that I am so very close but there is so much more I want to explore in this encounter with my Dorrie.
Lifting Dorrie up from her knees, I feel my cock leave her mouth with an audible pop. I almost bemoan the loss but instead of giving in to such poignant thoughts, I crush my lips to hers when she stands, my hands gripping her upper arms tightly. A tiny whimper escapes her throat at the ferocity of my kiss but when my tongue begins its sensuous dance with hers while I pivot and lift her onto the desk, she melts against me, giving in to my need.
“I don’t want you straining your back,” she smirks after we reluctantly break our kiss. Her eyes haze over with desire, the warm mocha color swirling endlessly, beckoning me to her.
“I do not believe that will ever be a problem, love,” My hand darts under her robes and I am surprised to find my fingers grazing against the smooth skin of her thigh.
Her flesh is seemingly on fire and when I gasp my surprise at her lack of clothing, Dorrie chuckles, “I was horny.”
“So am I,” I growl, parting the bottom of her robes before reaching down and playing my fingers over her clit. She sighs her approval before I pull her body to the edge of the desk. She spreads her legs widely while I let my hand wander teasingly over her folds, causing her to tremble visibly. Bending forward, I brush my lips over the column of her throat while my other hand releases the clasps of her robes. Dorrie’s body lies open to me when the robes fall off her shoulder, her pale skin flushed in excitement when I take an erect nipple into my mouth, grazing the blood rose red flesh with my teeth.
A soft moan tells me that she is enjoying my ministrations but when her hand wanders and finds my erection, I realize she wants so much more. Lifting my mouth from Dorrie’s breast, I groan when her thumb plays over my slit and she pulls me closer before she says huskily, “I told you I was horny.”
In the next instant, she shoves her body forward and I find my length surrounded by her warmth. Her walls begin to clench around me almost immediately as I begin to pummel her relentlessly, my cock a blur as it moves back and forth within her. The worries of the world seem to melt away as we rock together and I watch as her hands brace against the desk, holding steady against my onslaught and I know that I have found nirvana.
Dorrie’s teeth find purchase on her bottom lip and I observe as she draws a small amount of blood from her kiss swollen lips. I realize that her release is imminent and I drive into her even more incessantly, lifting her bottom off the desk with every intrusion while her arms curl around me, as if holding on for dear life. Lifting my eyes to hers, I know that the pure lust I see in her eyes is reflected in my own and it is all I can do to murmur, “I need you so badly, Dorrie.”
She comes undone, her cry echoing off the paper thin walls of my office as her nails dig into me cruelly, rending the tender skin at the back of my neck. A long, sinuous shudder runs its course over her body while Dorrie’s breathing comes in sporadic gasps as she draws in great gulps of air before she implores, “Merlin, Whizzy, harder…I need to feel you…come for me.”
Still, I hold back the siren call of my own climax until Dorrie brings her face forward and kisses me once more, her tongue curling into my mouth and all of a sudden, I am lost. I piston into her, each thrust seemingly more agonizing than the last until I feel the telltale swelling of my cock and with one final stab, I sheathe myself completely, spilling inside of Dorrie with a loud grunt. My head falls forward as we continue to move as one, her ever tightening walls coaxing every last drop from me until I mumble against her shoulder, “Dorrie, Gods, I cannot believe it…”
We sit quietly for a moment, my cock still resting inside her as it continues to pulse sporadically. My hand reaches around her head, stroking through her now damp hair as I kiss her cheek softly, silently thanking her for this gift. Dorrie’s small laugh breaks our moment of quiet platitudes and I find myself rather irked by her somewhat inappropriate response to our shared tender moment until she points out, “It seems we have had an audience, Whizzy.”
I yank my head up immediately, wondering who would have the audacity to watch us but when I pull up my trousers and turn, I see that it is only a small owl who I seem to recognize. Buckling my belt, I walk over the bird and feed it a treat while I remove the small note tied to its leg. I stare at the parchment curiously before I comment, “I don’t know what this could be about.”
Unraveling the plain blue ribbon surrounding the parchment roll, I begin to open it while Dorrie composes herself and walks over to me. She wraps her arm in mine as she waits anxiously to see the note while she says, “Do you have an idea yet?”
After I unroll the scroll, I immediately recognize the script of a woman who worked for both my father and myself for nearly forty years and my heart begins to sink knowing that Sally would not contact me unless it were of dire importance, except for the short Firecalls we share to discuss how badly Aveline’s Uncle is destroying my business.
My eyes scan the parchment and now my fury begins to rise as I read the words,
“Dear Mr. Worthington.”
I am sorry to bother you with such a trivial matter but it seems that Mr. Rousseau has decided to remove me for my position with the company. I am being replaced by the young lady who temporarily acted in my stead earlier. I believe her name is Lola. I apologize for inconveniencing you and hope that you will find future successes.
P.S. If you need to contact me, I will be at my sister’s near Yorkshire trying to decide what I will do next.
I read the parchment over again before I crumple it slowly, feeling the rage begin to boil inside of me. Dorrie steps away while I continue to let my fury build. I cannot believe the audacity of Aveline. First she divorces me, then she plays with my heart at the Grotto on my birthday. Next, she nearly kills my mother and now, she has struck against poor, innocent Sally. Looking over at Dorrie, I try to keep my tone deadpan while I say to her, “This is the final straw now. The bitch has fired Sally one year from her retirement. That means no benefits for someone who has served Cleansweep loyally for decades.”
“What are you going to do, Whizzy,” Dorrie asks quietly.
I am beyond reproach by this time and with an angry glare, I respond, “I’m going to go to Aveline’s and get Sally’s job back now.”
Stomping around my office, I begin to practice in my head my tirade at Aveline before I suddenly hear Dorrie reply, “Don’t you think you should wait until morning? When cooler heads might prevail?”
“No, Dorrie, the best time is now. I have let that woman control my life for too long. It is time to finally put her in her place,” My tone tells Dorrie that I am not going to change my mind and she sighs reluctantly, allowing me to do what I deem necessary.
“Be careful,” Dorrie advises before I kiss her on the cheek and make my way to Aveline’s home to save Sally’s job.
Current Location: My office in the Jade Tower
Current Mood: cranky
Current Music: "She won't get away with this..."
May 17th, 2006
|05:39 pm - "Shopping Hell" May 17th|
Watching Dorrie bemoan her slight weight gain on a daily basis has become troublesome and to be quite honest, I grow tired of hearing her grousing everyday about it. I told her at one point in time that she looked radiant and I could hardly notice her stomach but all I received for my comment was a fierce scowl and dinner alone. That, coupled with the fact that it is becoming increasingly difficult to watch Dorrie try to wedge herself into clothes which were once loose on her has led me to take time off from my negotiations with the owners of the location I found in Rome and take Dorrie clothes shopping.
That is why I am now standing outside the Ministry of Magic waiting for Dorrie. I wanted to make sure she did not have the time to go home because it is becoming increasingly difficult to get her to leave our residence lately after a long day at work, especially since Charlie has left that infernal beast with us. That is completely understandable with the strain of carrying our child and continuing her rigorous schedule. That is one reason I am thankful that I was able to coerce Tiberius Ogden to allow me to take her as my ‘bodyguard’ to foreign locations since I am traveling under the guise of a dignitary.
“Dorrie,” I call out and walk up the steps as my lovely companion makes her way out of the Ministry Building.
“Whizzy, what are you doing here?” Dorrie blinks back her astonishment before she hugs me closely.
As I tilt my head and rest it on the crown of her head, I cannot help but think how wonderful she smells, the calm scent of lilac still wafting gently from her. I could hold her here forever but I realize that we have things we should accomplish, so I break our hug before Dorrie looks at me in surprise. I brush a lock of hair away from her forehead before I grin, “I came here today because I have located some Muggle stores which may help you with your current dilemma.”
I say the last words hesitantly before I touch her belly and Dorrie frowns deeply at me. She takes a small step back before she retorts, “My clothes are still okay, Whizzy. They were loose before, so now they’re just tightening up a bit. I think I look perfectly fine.”
This is where I normally have difficulty with women. My response here could set off a chain of events that could prove to be devastating or quite beneficial to my chances of having sex tonight or anytime in the near future. So I realize I must watch myself carefully and I ponder my words for a brief second. Deciding on a course of action, I give Dorrie one of my most endearing lopsided grins before I reply, “You always look beautiful but I worry because I know that you are most comfortable in an ill-filling sweatshirt and trousers which are a few sizes too large. So, it would be nice to find you clothes in which you can be at more at ease in on a regular basis.”
Dorrie reflects for a moment before she smiles and I relax, knowing that my words have been accepted without repercussion. She threads her hand through mine and I lead her down the front stairs of the Ministry building before she asks, “Where are you taking me, Whizzy?”
“Let me surprise you, love,” I whisper in her ear as we near the Apparation point. Dorrie gasps when I pull her near me and with a wave of my wand, we Disapparate to an alley in Notting Hill that is a designated Ministry entry point to this area.
After we compose ourselves, Dorrie and I begin to walk out of the alley and while getting my bearings, I am pleasantly surprised to find out that we are less than a block from our destination. With a jaunty step, I take Dorrie’s hand and we begin to make our way down the street. She looks into the store windows inquisitively while she says, “You’re pretty good at Apparation, Whizzy. That was a tough jump.”
“I have practiced enough in my travels,” I state with a bit of distraction in my voice as we near the store. When we arrive at the storefront, I announce with a magnanimous gesture of my hand, “Here we are, Dorrie.”
She looks up at the large sign over the door announcing the name of the store as ‘Isabella Oliver’s Fine Clothiers’ before she gazes tentatively inside. Dorrie hesitates for a moment, surely trying to decide whether she is ready for this step before she takes a deep breath and says, “Let’s see what they have to offer us cows.”
We enter the establishment and Dorrie glances around the store nervously but after looking at the extensive line of clothing, she strides confidently to a display on the wall and chooses an item labeled Peasant Dress off the display she twirls around happily. She walks along the wall quickly snatching items and handing them to me. Soon, my arms are overloaded with the crushing weight of her choices and I stumble before I whimper, “I am glad you are enjoying this cow clothing so much.”
“I was wrong, Whizzy. The clothes here are wonderful and I can’t believe that they’re so…stylish,” She turns and hands me a stylish (for Dorrie)
pants and top set that she coos over for a minute.
“I thought you might like this place. I spoke to a friend of mine who has shops out in Muggle London and he recommended it to me. He said the clothing was unique for any type of bovine and I thought of you,” I reply with a smirk while Dorrie sticks her tongue out at me.
A sales clerk in our general area giggles and Dorrie looks over at her with a mischievous glint in her eyes while she hooks a thumb at me and asks, “Could I please have a dressing room for the fifteen outfits he is holding?”
I groan audibly as another clerk comes over and they both relieve me of my burden. Staring at Dorrie, I watch her saunter into the dressing area while I complain, “Dorrie, we could be here all night!”
“Yes, Whizzy, sometimes cows need time to make choices,” Dorrie harrumphs loudly. She then turns to the nearest sales clerk while staring at me directly before smiling brightly, “Could you please all these outfits in the various colors available? After all, I want to make sure I look good when I get past cow-sized and move onto becoming a whale.”
Current Location: Slouched in a chair outside the dressing rooms
Current Mood: determined
April 26th, 2006
|08:43 am - "Cooking Lessons" NC 17|
I have never been one to become involved in the domestic arts, so I am not very schooled at basic home maintenance or upkeep. But my one saving grace is that I am a passable cook and I have demonstrated this ability on several occasions. Sadly though, Dorrie is a terrible cook, so we eat out or order delivery food a good bit. But I find that I have grown tired of take away and dining out and I have vowed to attempt to cook a passable meal for the both of us.
Tonight, I am attempting to prepare a Japanese dish called Udon. Now, I would normally try to fix a simple meal of steak and boiled potatoes or another meal involving a meat and a starch, but Dorrie has become obsessed with Asian food so far during her pregnancy, especially those which originate in Japan. Of course, I have tried to satisfy Dorrie’s every need, but I have found the selection of Japanese foods to be lacking in Great Britain.
Therefore, I am doing what any Worthington would do in this situation and I am teaching myself how to cook Japanese foods. I have been practicing in secret which has not been an issue since I work from our home on most occasions. I have proudly made myself into a fair to middling sushi chef and I have learned how to make tempura along with several other meals including teriyaki. But I have kept my newfound talent a secret from Dorrie, waiting for the proper time to surprise her and also allowing me time to prepare her a proper meal.
I deemed that tonight was the correct time to reveal my culinary skills to Dorrie. I have been practicing making Udon since I picked up my first books on the art of Japanese cooking because my love seems to enjoy the soup with the wide noodles so much.
As I put the Udon on to boil while I begin to cut the Naruto, or fishcake, into small slices before I dice the green onions. While I chop the ingredients, I wonder what has happened to me. I used to base my life on competition and conquest but it just does not seem that this is as important anymore. I find myself wanting to give now and I do not abhor the feeling. I must admit that this change in my focus began with Aveline but it was obscured by the damnable games she always insisted on playing throughout our relationship. But with Dorrie, things are different and since she is prone to giving of herself, my want to be selfless is richly rewarded.
The pot in which the noodles are in nearly boils over and my attention snaps back to the present. I pick up the noodles and drain them while retaining the water before I take a bottle of ‘Ninben Tsuyu No Moto’ sauce and add it to the Udon water.
Taking the noodles, I add them back into the pot and begin to stir the Udon, wanting to make sure that I steep them for no more than five minutes. A tiny hand on my shoulder startles me and when I turn around, I find myself looking at the beautiful countenance of my Dorrie. She looks dazzling as she smiles at me brightly, “Whizzy, you’re cooking and it’s Udon! Gods, I love you.”
“Why are we dressed so formally, love?” I smirk while turn back to the Udon and charm the heat to a lower temperature.
“I just felt like being pretty today since I probably don’t have too much longer before I have to start wearing potato sacks,” Dorrie answers and I take a step back, gazing longingly at her. Her soft curves are encased in loose pale pink dress, the simple lines intensifying her beauty.
I am stunned by her beauty and I cannot help but stare at Dorrie while she curls her arms around my neck. I do not think I have ever fully appreciated her beauty or it may be the fact that she has become more radiant with every moment that has passed since she started carrying my child. I know she has been worried that she has begun to gain weight but I do not see where she has added even a little bit or if she has, it has been placed by the hands of some God in exactly the right places.
“I knew that you have been fancying Japanese foods, so I have been trying to teach myself some of the basics. I believe I have perfected Udon, at least the basic variant although the one with the pork cutlet still is above my skill level,” I reply in a matter-of-fact manner while I drop my spoon and wrap my arms around her.
“You find something new to surprise me with every day,” Dorrie gushes and tilts her head up before she captures my lips.
A small moan is torn involuntarily from my lips while our kiss deepens. Dorrie wraps her hands in my hair and pulls me closer as her body melts against me. When she breaks our kiss, I sigh, wanting more and when I open my eyes I can clearly see the lustful intentions of my willowy love. Grinning, I graze my fingers along her cheek before I point out, “I believe we will overcook the noodles if we proceed any further.”
Her hands drop to my belt and after some fumbling, my trousers and underpants lie in a puddle on the kitchen floor before she takes a step back. I watch in fascination as she unzips her dress and shimmies out of her it, the aforementioned curves now only covered by a lacy pink brassiere and matching knickers. Her brown eyes communicate her need to me and I nod, realizing that the fire which has consumed us since our reunion has been stoked once more.
“I’ll make sure this is quick,” she replies, her brown eyes laced with seduction while she drops to her knees and takes my erection in her hand.
( Boiling OverCollapse )
After a moment, we recover our facilities and I slide out of Dorrie, stunned by our wantonness as I watch her pick up her bra. A hissing sound attracts my attention and when I look at the stove, I shake my head while I groan, “Dinner is ruined, Dorrie. I am so sorry.”
Dorrie smiles amusedly before she walks over and kisses me on the cheek as she replies, “That’s all right, Whizzy. You know how much I love to eat out.”
April 20th, 2006
|08:41 am - "Revelations"|
“Yes, Amsterdam looks like it will be a success. We bought a prime piece of property and we will be able to start renovating right away,” I announce proudly, leaning back in my chair as Fred and George look at me eagerly.
“We’re on a boat, Whizzy? You did say our shop would be on a boat, right?” Fred says excitedly while leaning forward across his desk.
“Yes, the Magische Markt is on a floating pier and it moves down one of the estuaries, stopping at appointed locations to allow the vendors to sell their wares,” I reply evenly, not wanting the boys to get too excited about the possibilities of their first floating store.
The trip to Amsterdam was a rousing success. I was able to conclude my business within the first few days of mine and Dorrie’s arrival. We spent the rest of the time on our Canal Boat, touring the rivers and spending much of our time in the city itself. I have never quite experienced something like that in my life. The freedom, the lack of moral fiber, the lack of concern over certain Muggle drugs and the perverse sexual acts performed in public, were quite interesting and opened my eyes to a completely new way of thinking.
I do not agree with all of the viewpoints of the city’s inhabitants but it was curious to see the way they lived their lives and I am better for the experience. Fred and George on the other hand, seem to be agitated thinking about the ribald and lecherous acts that Amsterdam offers and I am sure it is high on their priority list of places to visit.
“How long will it be until we open, Whizzy?” George asks quietly but I can still see his eyes aglow with his giddiness.
“I would think a month or two at the most. The storefront is in fine shape. It was an old bookstore, so there is ample room,” Grinning, I feel quite exhilarated by my recent string of successes. So excited that I have already started to plan where Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes would strike next and the next working vacation Dorrie and I would share.
“Brilliant, Whizzy, you are an absolute genius,” Fred rises out of his seat and shakes my hand. Soon, George joins him and I am jostled between the two young entrepreneurs as they congratulate me on my success.
“Well, I cannot take credit for everything. Dorrie did play a part. She is my traveling consultant now,” I break free from the ‘Weasley’ sandwich and move toward door after one more round of handshakes. Smiling, I see George follow me before I add, “I need to go now, boys. Dorrie was not feeling well this morning and I want to check in on her at the Ministry.”
“I’ll walk you out, Whizzy,” George catches up with me. He crooks his thumb toward Fred and continues, “Lover boy has to pick up his young lady at the school.”
Fred grins and gives George a two finger salute while he quips, “Don’t let Georgie fool you. He’s got his ‘Eggroll’ waiting at home, I’m sure he’s not too adverse to us adjourning.”
“’Wonton’, you bloody moron. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your little French tart, you’d remember these things,” George retorts with a wide grin. I watch in fascination at the interplay between the two brothers and I find myself wishing I had the companionship of another male just to feel this type of fellowship.
”Eggroll, Wonton, Chow Mien…the fact of the matter is you might splinch yourself getting your henpecked arse home,” Fred snaps back and I watch them banter back and forth much like an overly hectic Quidditch match.
“Well, if you paid more attention to your lovely Croissant, she wouldn’t say ‘maybe’ to a lovely Hogsmeade weekends,” George smirks and I wait for Fred’s witty rejoinder.
“What the hell does that mean? She was here the entire time last weekend. We worked and then went out to eat at the Jade Tower,” Fred replies, his head tilting before he crosses his arms.
George’s smile evaporates and I can see the indecision on his face before a voice calls out from the storefront, “Fred, we need you out here now.”
Fred pushes through us on his way out front but pauses and stares at George. George chuckles nervously before he shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t mean anything by it, Fred. I was trying for a real zinger and it just came out wrong. I’m sorry.”
“FRED,” the voice out front takes on an air of panic and before Fred can reply to George, he turns and walks out front.
George stares at Fred as he before he shakes his head and breathes, “That was a close one. But I can’t believe she didn’t say anything.”
I wait for him to elaborate but instead, we walk toward the back of the store and part ways as I stroll into the alleyway and make my way into the dull, spring sun still struggling to overcome the grip of winter. The cobbles click under the heels of my Italian patent leather shoes and I find myself enjoying the cool breeze as it billows my robes around me.
I can truly say that this past week has been enlightening and I do not mean just the Red Light District in Amsterdam. I feel a closeness now with Dorrie that did not exist when we were married. She has become my stars and moon. We have gone beyond the bounds of friendship and the love we shared previously. Now, I am desperate for her company, her mere touch reassuring, reinvigorating. I have found myself wrapping my life around her, basking in her presence. Most stunning is that fact that I no longer need to be the brightest star when I enter a room with her. I have learned that it is best to defer to the very sun…my Dorrie.
My musings are interrupted when a cat bolts out of the alley ahead of me following a mouse, its tiny legs pump furiously as it desperately tries to get away. I watch while the mouse darts away, the cat hot on its heels as I emerge onto the street in front of Zonko’s. I begin to walk up the street toward the Apparation point when a flash of familiar midnight black hair comes into play at the edge of my vision.
Turning my head, I grit my teeth when I see the ginger haired buffoon I once called my best friend capturing Aveline’s lips in the middle of the street in broad daylight. For a moment, I am horrified and I want to say something to stop this display. But it is not my place, after all, she is my ex-wife and it is her life to do with or with whom she pleases. Still, I find it humorous that she has become so brazen with Charlie. He seems to have released that bit of slutiness that I was never privileged to see in Aveline but always knew existed. Of course, Charlie does have a reputation for his sexual prowess but he is nothing but a one trick Krup, clinging to his one talent now that his Quidditch skills have deteriorated under the weight of whiskey and women.
Charlie breaks their kiss and she stumbles backwards a bit before he smiles jauntily, “Want to skivvy off work and go home?”
I do not wait for Aveline’s response before I begin to walk away from them. A slow smile creeps across my face as I suddenly realize that the pain I felt when I last saw Charlie and Aveline together in her office, does not seek to consume me. Yet it does cause me a brief ache to see the two of them so happy after all the havoc they wrought in my life. But then I realize their shared life is all a sham, the tender moment, the carnal relations on the desktop in her office all a joke because I know that Aveline Rousseau does not love Charlie Weasley and their relationship will always be a fraud.
Still, when I arrive at the Apparation point, I find the thought of their kiss drifting from my mind while the familiar eagerness I feel when I know I will see my Dorrie soon. Every moment I spend away from her drags on endlessly and I cannot wait to be with her again every day. She has become my life and there is no one else I would want to carry my child. As I feel the familiar tug on my navel while I Disapparate, I find myself laughing as I muse that maybe I should be thanking Aveline and Charlie instead of cursing them. If it had not been for their deception, I might not have found myself in the arms of Nymphadora Tonks again.
April 8th, 2006
|08:41 am - "Getting Ready for the Wedding..." NC 17 for Sexual Content|
My mind drifts as I watch this remarkable woman. It is difficult to believe that Dorrie and I have been together for over two months now. It seems that she showed up at my door, crying, just yesterday. But since that time, we have fallen in love and it seems our relationship is even stronger than it was when we were married. She has been miraculous and to be able to know we have rekindled that which we shared previously after each of us found ourselves in the arms of another has been a testament to the love we share.
( Frequent Apparation RewardsCollapse )
After a seemingly endless string of platitudes fall from my lips, I feel Dorrie roll off of me before she collapses on the bed near my side. Her panting subsides after a few moments and afterwards, she moves her body until she is draped over my chest. Dorrie lifts her head, her brown eyes smiling while she asks, “Were you serious about taking me to Amsterdam?”
“Of course, love, I do not want to be away from you for a week,” I reply while I kiss her cheek, knowing that my opportune mention of the destination I had planned to take her to next week set off this latest sexual escapade.
“But how will I go? Kingsley won’t release me for a week,” Dorrie shakes her head before she stands. I still cannot believe we are having a child together, especially when I gaze upon her beauty, the only difference I see in her, a slight swell in her breasts…and that has just enhanced her natural beauty.
Standing, I reach over for my wand and cast a ‘Reparo’ charm upon Dorrie’s dress. When I am done, Dorrie walks over to the gilded, standing mirror in our bedroom and looks at herself, surely searching for telltale signs of our coupling. Grinning, I walk toward her while I reply, “Mr. Shacklebolt has no say since this has been arranged through Minister Ogden. He has asked that during my excursions, I visit with the proper authorities in each country to arrange trade negotiations for brooms and so forth. That gives me the status of a visiting dignitary and warranted the assignment of a member of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad to act as my bodyguard. I, of course, asked for you.”
Wrapping my arms around Dorrie from behind, I watch the smile spread across her face before she turns around in my embrace and says, “You really did that for me? Gods, Whizzy, I love you. I owe you so much.”
Her eyes glisten and I realize another effect of her pregnancy that I have read about is increased emotional reaction. Reaching up, I drag my thumb across her jaw line, removing a gentle tear before responding, “I would do anything for you, Dorrie. I told you that I love you. This just insures that I do not have to spend an unnecessary moment away from you. I think a week would have been too long to bear being apart.”
Dorrie nods before she smiles, “I can’t wait, but today, we’ve got Ron and Hermione’s wedding.”
I cannot believe how courageous she is to go to this wedding although she has no reason to be there. She will be placed into the Lion’s Den and I would not fault her if she decided to not attend at any moment in time. She has barely spoken to the bride and groom in months and other than Fred and George, the family will not understand her choice to return to me.
“But I would hate to ruin my reward for all my meticulous work. I am sure that you have much more planned, love,” I respond, my voice taking on a plaintive tone.
Dorrie pushes away, a mischievous glint in her eye before she replies, “You’ll just have to wait until we get to Amsterdam to find out, Mr. Worthington.”
April 2nd, 2006
|08:36 am - "Photographs of You"|
Moving to our new home has been, if nothing else, educational about how well Dorrie and I work together and to this point, it has been a smashing success. She has done a wonderful job of coordinating our move and making sure that the minute detail are taken care of to ensure that everything will run smoothly. I have been surprised to see her display so many leadership and organizational skills that I never saw in our previous relationship and I realize now that I should not have regulated her to the role of a housewife. She would have been a cherished and productive member of the Cleansweep upper management team.
I have truly changed so many of my opinions of Dorrie. Where once I saw a fragile creature who needed to be protected from the world, now I see a vibrant woman. I regret that I did not rely on her more when were married. After my father died, I chose work over her, not allowing the pain and lament I should have felt wash over me. Instead, I stemmed that tide of remorse by throwing myself into my work and in turn, neglected my duties as a husband to Dorrie. She deserved so much better than an occasional evening out together or the rushed lovemaking that I shared with her as I tried to make sure that I lived up to my father’s legacy.
But I have a second chance now and I am trying to take full advantage of this situation. Of course, the fact that we are having a child has ruined any opportunity for us to take things slowly during our time now. But we have never been ones who were indecisive when it came to our relationship and having a child has seemed to bring us even closer as we face the prospect of parenthood united in a common cause.
Yet, as the movers bring in the last of the boxes and the assistants I hired continue to put the items in the proper place according to Dorrie’s dictates, I find myself exhausted. Maybe it’s just the accumulation of the day or the week or the New Year but I am beyond tired and I want nothing more than to just sit and relax. It seems that it has been one stressful situation after another this year and it was amplified on Friday when after a stressful day bargaining with estate agents in Amsterdam to further the expansion of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, I returned to the penthouse to relax, pouring myself a large snifter of cognac and beginning to light one of my finer Cohiba cigars.
I had barely touched my wooden match to the tip when Dorrie entered the living room out of nowhere, telling me that I am not allowed to smoke around our child. When I suggested I repair to the balcony, Dorrie informed me that my days of being a cigar aficionado were now at an end and a hobby like chewing gum would be more suitable for one having a child. Of course, I was contrite. I did not want to affect our child in any way and it would be a shame if some of the luster of being a Worthington heir were removed because of health issues.
So it was with deep regret yesterday that I took two boxes of ‘Arturo Fuente Opus X’, to Fred and George for their birthday. Of course, the two heathens, no matter their success, did not truly appreciate my gift and wanted to immediately light two of them but I begged them to save the cigars for a special occasion, like their funerals. Still, I do not feel badly about my sacrifice. I would do anything for our child, even if it does involve hurting those who I have shared with in the past.
Now, as I find myself in my study, sorting through the numerous boxes of incidental items I have accumulated through the years, I am even more anxious for the birth of our child. It will be such a rewarding experience to raise a child properly after spending most of my youth in assorted boarding schools for Wizards. Our child will live at home with their parents and we will participate in not only the rearing of our baby but also take an active role in their education. I want to give this child everything I was denied because I feel that the formative years will be most important.
I open a box labeled ‘Miscellaneous Pictures’ and I am pleased to see photos of Dorrie from Hogwarts through the end of our marriage. It is strange how through those years, we remained somewhat in contact, almost as if we were destined to be together and strangely enough, I am starting to truly believe that she is the one and only for me. As I flip through the photographs, I am stunned by the myriad forms and features of my Dorrie. In every picture, even without using her Metamorphagus ability, she seems to be able to change her appearance at will. It confirms my theory that she is effervescent, able to make herself into whatever she wills and with her giving heart, whatever others want.
I cannot believe how beautiful she is and I begin to lay the pictures on the hardwood floor, creating a montage of the woman I love so dearly. A picture of her at Hogwarts with Paddy, her happiness so evident as she is crushed into a bear hug by the now erstwhile doctor contrasts so much with a small photo of her after her release from St. Mungo’s after her injury, the same smile in place but now, more wane, her features telling me of her quiet reflection over her injury and the painful process of recovery which she braved so gamely.
There are so many pictures of Dorrie here, each one bringing back a fond memory, some causing me to laugh to myself as I remember the circumstances of the photo.
Yet, as I near the end of the stack, I am stunned to find one picture of myself and Aveline taken around Christmas. It is from one of our jaunts out to give gifts to children under the guise of Father and Mother Christmas. At first, when she caught me changing into my Father Christmas outfit, I was horrified as a secret that only my father, myself, and Sally Gardens knew was now exposed to another. But then I suggested that Aveline join me in my excursion to bring joy to those who need it and surprisingly she agreed.
Those trips were some of my fondest memories of our marriage and as I sit staring dumbly at photograph of us, I cannot believe she allowed herself to be changed into a matron with wide hips, a round body, wrinkles and gray hair. Aveline always prided herself in her appearance and to remember her going through the transformation still brings a smile to my face.
I thought that this image would be us when we grew old together but apparently, Aveline had other intentions and we were divorced within weeks of this photo. But still, it is nice to remember Aveline like this and maybe I will now be able to get past hating her, remembering her and what she has done to try to ruin my life.
“What are you doing, Whizzy?” Dorrie’s voice surprises me and I try to hide the picture of Aveline under my leg as Dorrie bounces up to me, her nose covered in dirt from the work she has been doing.
“I am just looking at your beauty, Dorrie,” I smile while bringing my hand, palm upward over the pictures of Dorrie strewn over the floor.
“No, I mean with this,” Dorrie pulls the photo of Aveline and I out from under my leg. She looks at it quizzically before asking, “Is that you and Aveline as Father and Mother Christmas?”
She giggles quietly but I feel terrible that she found this picture. Sighing, I reply, “It is Aveline and me in the picture. We were the Cleansweep Father and Mother Christmas. It was a secret that my father and I shared but Aveline found out and became involved. I am sorry, Dorrie.”
“Why are you apologizing, Whizzy? It’s something you shared with Aveline. You were together for four or five months, you’re bound to have some good memories,” Dorrie replies while handing me back the picture. She sits in my lap as she adds, “I guess I’m a bit miffed that you didn’t share the secret with me but if Aveline found out by accident, no harm done. But maybe I can be Mother Christmas next year. I wouldn’t require a charm or a disguise.”
Dorrie grins widely and I am stunned by her response. I am sure the astonishment is evident in my voice as I reply, “So you truly aren’t mad that some vestiges of Aveline are still around?”
“No, Whizzy, I’m not upset. Who do you think put those pictures in the box? Like I said, she is part of your past and no matter what I do, I wouldn’t be able to banish her from your mind. Maybe it will help you to let go of your hate by seeing yourself when you were happy with her,” Dorrie kisses me softly on my forehead and I am amazed by how wise she truly is and I question why I did not recognize this before.
But one question bothers me, but I am still hesitant when I ask, “Does this mean you still have memories of Charlie with you?”
“We shared a lot, Whizzy, and I cherish those moments no matter if we are no more. I have photos, notes, cards, and mementoes with me and will forever because Charlie was someone I was close to at several points in my life,” she replies and I can hear a small bit of defiance in her voice.
“Please do not be mad, Dorrie. I understand Charlie will be in your memories no matter what I do or how long we are together but I am just in shock over the fact that you readily admit to still thinking of Charlie and want me to remember Aveline,” I reply clearly, trying to still grasp this new development.
“Whizzy, you have so much to understand about life still. I love your wide-eyed innocence but this isn’t a black and white world, love. Sometimes a little gray needs to be mixed in,” Dorrie grins before hugging me close. She kisses me on the ear as she continues, “Besides a bunch of pictures of Aveline all plump and motherly don’t worry but maybe those naked pictures of Charlie and his tattoos in my trunk should cause you to fret.”
“Burns and scars do not worry me, love because I know how much you enjoy the feel of well-maintained skin and all the pleasures that are me,” I reply with a hint of bravado before I kiss Dorrie deeply while the picture of Aveline and I drops to the floor.
March 25th, 2006
|08:36 am - "Telling Andromeda and Ted..."|
“I’ll have a Boba, please,” Dorrie smiles at our waitress while I stare incredulously at the light pink and peach menu with more drink products than I ever thought were possible in the world. She smiles wanly as she puts her menu down and leans over before she whispers in my ear, “I used to be able to make my hair those colors.”
She smiles wistfully as I reach over and squeeze her hand. I’m staring at this oddly colored menu with the vast number of strange liquid concoctions because Dorrie and I are meeting her parents, Andromeda and Ted Tonks, to tell them the joyous news of her pregnancy. When Dorrie’s mother and father said we could meet them at their favorite juice bar, ‘The Fruit Cup’, I countered that I would take them out to eat at ‘Aladdin’s Lamp’ or the ‘Empress’ Pan’ but they insisted that this was part of their afternoon routine, so Dorrie and I are here on a Saturday and I am vastly confused about what I want to order.
“We’ll have the usual, Buttercup, two double Wheatgrass shakes, mine with a twist of lemon,” Ted closes his menu and gives his wife a satisfied smirk. Andromeda nods before she turns to me and I realize it is my turn to order.
“I will have an Earl Grey Tea, please, with a spot of honey,” I declare while handing my menu to the waitress before I stifle a laugh as I read her nametag and find out her name is really ‘Buttercup’.
“Sir, I’m sorry but we don’t have Earl Grey here,” Buttercup states matter-of-factly and I find myself staring at the blonde waitress while she twirls her blonde hair and smacks her gum loudly, obviously an accomplishment of monumental intellectual proportions for her.
“This is England, Buttercup. Everyone has Earl Grey tea,” I say in astonishment while she gazes at a spot on the ceiling.
Buttercup brings her eyes down until she meets mine as she thinks of some snappy retort or maybe tries to figure out why she is speaking to me again. Finally, after a moment, she replies blankly, “I understand, sir, but our motto is ‘Dare to be Unique’ and Earl Grey isn’t unique.”
I do not know what amazes me more…the stupidity of ‘The Fruit Cup’s’ mantra or the fact that Buttercup remembered it. But I decide that arguing is pointless, so I take the menu and point, finding my finger on item 142 as I say, “I will just take this, Buttercup.”
I actually watch her lips move as she reads my order before she takes all of our menus and wanders toward the bar. Andromeda giggles while Dorrie laughs loudly and I can do nothing but smile at the absurdity of the situation. Shaking my head, I chuckle while Ted puts his hand on my shoulder and states, “Don’t get angry, Whizzy. Life is much too short to let yourself be affected by negative chakras.”
Now, I love Dorrie’s parents but their ideals of positive energy, staying healthy, and living a more free spirited life, puzzle me. But I have never been able to complain because they have raised a wonderful daughter who I love dearly, so I guess their parenting methods, although quirky, seem to be effective.
That thought brings me back to our original purpose for coming here but I am interrupted by Dorrie’s mother as she asks, “Now, how did this exactly happen between the two of you, Nymphadora?”
Andromeda’s long aquiline finger points at the both of us and even though she has affected the attitude of one who is living the life of a free spirit, her unmistakably aristocratic, Pureblood features still shine through and it is easy to remember that she is still a Black, one of the most renowned Wizarding families of our time.
“Mother, don’t call me that,” Dorrie replies petulantly and I find myself smiling inside at a very ritualistic exchange between these two strong, vibrant women.
“You may be Dora, Dorrie, Tonks, or Queen Elizabeth to everyone else but when you are with your parents, you are Nymphadora,” Andromeda says clearly and I watch Dorrie cross her arms.
After a few moments, Dorrie shakes her head and huffs, “That’s fine, mother but I hate that name.”
“I understand, daughter but it is a family name and part of our tradition. I would expect you to follow the rituals of your family,” Andromeda says calmly and Dorrie nods in reluctant agreement.
“To answer your previous question, Charlie and I broke up and Whizzy and I found our way back together. I’ve told you this before, mother,” Dorrie replies and I watch her body relax.
“I know, Nymphadora, I’m just stunned by it all. It seems that things are moving so fast but if you’re happy, we are happy too,” Dorrie’s mother nods and smiles while her hand covers her husband’s.
Dorrie takes a deep breath and I know she has chosen this moment to tell about having a child. She opens her mouth to speak but Buttercup interrupts as she places a fuchsia colored cup in front of me, filled with something that vaguely smells like tea. I glance around the table and watch in disgust while Ted and Andromeda drink something the color of pond water while Dorrie’s drink is the oddest shade of purple I have ever seen and it is filled with some type of gelatinous balls.
Reaching down, I pick up my cup and take a sip. Immediately, the unnatural taste of mandarin orange and something horribly akin to butterbeer or Krup urine lodges itself in my throat and I find myself sputtering at the horrific flavor. Dorrie reaches over as I put my cup down and hands me her drink while saying, “Here, it’s taro milk and tapioca balls, it’ll get rid of the flavor of whatever you ordered.”
I take her word that the drink she ordered is safe and place the oddly oversized straw in my mouth while taking a sip only to find something lodging itself in my throat. Gagging, I try to spit it out but it’s no use until I feel Dorrie’s hand clap my back and one of the gelatinous balls flies out of my mouth. It bounces on the table and I watch it in disbelief as it rolls to a stop.
“By Merlin, Dorrie, you should wait until after the baby is born to kill me and you will get double the insurance money,” I jest before I realize that I have let the Kneazle out of the bag.
Dorrie looks at me in horror and I glance around the table, seeing the shock register on the faces of Ted and Andromeda. Andromeda leans forward and her hand covers Dorrie’s on the table before she inquires, “Is it true, Dorrie. You’re pregnant?”
“Yes, mother, I just found out a few days ago that Whizzy and I are having a baby. It’ll be due in November.” Dorrie answers hesitantly and I can see the nervousness in her features. She flips her hand over to hold her mother’s before she asks, “Are you all right with this, Mum? We didn’t plan it but we’re both ecstatic.”
“I’m happy for you but just stunned. This is an overwhelming amount of information and your father and I need to adjust,” Andromeda replies, a small smile crossing her features.
“Speak for yourself, Andromeda. I’m going to have a grandchild to spoil,” Ted stands and crosses over to Dorrie, lifting her out of her chair and into a hug. Dorrie squeals in delight as Ted adds, “I love you, Nymphadora.”
After they finish hugging, each looks over at Andromeda and I chuckle as I watch the exchange between this odd but loving family. Ted gives his best doleful puppy dog expression and I observe Andromeda melt under his gaze before she shakes her head and mutters, “Bugger, you two. Of course, I’m overjoyed. I’m going to spoil my grandbaby rotten to pay you back for all the mischief you caused when you lived with us, Nymphadora.”
Dorrie grins as both her parents hug her closely and I find myself somewhat jealous of the attention they are heaping upon her while I try to remember the last time a member of my family hugged me. But when the hug breaks, Ted and Andromeda come over in turn and pull me to them in an embrace before Dorrie melts her body against mine.
When I glance down at her, I can see the delight over her parent’s acceptance of our child. But then I realize that this was fairly simple. Dorrie’s parents have always been supportive but now, we have to tell Olive and I frown while wondering if we should have the Emergency Healers at ready again in case my mother has another heart attack.
March 23rd, 2006
|08:34 am - "Locking Charms..."|
The words take a few moments to register in my head before I realize that Aveline is telling me that she is pregnant. I find myself thunderstruck at her admission. It seems that Dorrie and I make sense. We have shared so much in our past but Charlie and Aveline barely know one another and in a way, I feel almost sorry for them and the trials they must now face.
Still, her admission makes sense as they have probably been having tawdry sex without much regard to maintaining her intake of potion. Of course, the same could be said of Dorrie and I but she swears that she took her birth control faithfully and I believe her.
“Are you planning on raising it? I mean you and Charlie barely know one another,” Taking a deep breath, I think to myself that it just at the beginning of January when it was Aveline and myself talking about having a child but now she is carrying the baby of a man I loathe.
“What kind of question is that? Charlie and I are buying a house to raise our child in together,” Aveline responds angrily but I do not understand her vehemence.
“You really just met Charlie when you two started to enjoy each other’s company. Is that any type of foundation to base a relationship on, Aveline?” I try to reason but I can just tell from her countenance that Aveline is becoming even more enraged.
“Charlie is a fine man and if you’d take the time to open your eyes, you’d see what a friend you lost,” she storms and her hands clench at her side.
“Or what a lover you gained, Aveline? Really, is that not what this is all about, my dear? You got my fortune and now, your dream lover,” I snap after her defense of the man who ripped her from me. I feel that I was nothing but a pawn in their game and fortunately for me, Dorrie was also caught up in their duplicity or I would be alone.
Aveline mouth gapes and her fury becomes even greater while she hisses, “Charlie had nothing to do with our divorce. That was my choice. He came to me afterwards and when it was all done, we found comfort in one another.”
“I would have thought that my millions of Galleons would have been comfort enough but I am sure someone of your stature now can afford a bed warmer,” I reply, knowing my words hurt her.
“I haven’t touched any of your money and Charlie is more than a bed warmer. He is the father of my child,” Aveline sticks her chin out defiantly while she speaks after she steps closer to me.
“That is your money now, Ms. Rousseau since you made it so clear the day you divorced me,” I sputter, Aveline’s presence in my home now infuriating me. Gathering myself, I add while I walk away, “Do you love him, Aveline? Was what you said at the Grotto another one of your many lies?”
“No, I did not lie. I loved you when Charlie encouraged me to go to the Grotto. But you turned my apology and offer of reconciliation down and I’ll tell you one more thing. It is very easy to see myself with Charlie,” Aveline smirks and I find it hard to believe she so easily sells her heart to one not worthy. Finding a window ledge, I sit as she continues, “Besides Randall, you’ve make it abundantly clear that you found love with Tonks. Maybe it was her the entire time.”
“No, before your betrayal, I loved you but now, I have found someone who makes me happy and I trust,” Crossing my arms, I reply calmly. I lean forward and stare into her deep mocha eyes as I say, “…And love but Dorrie and I share a past. We have rekindled what we had before and now we are having a child. That is why I purchased this home. Dorrie wanted it and she is the mother of my baby, so she will want for nothing. But that could have been you, Aveline…you tossed it away.”
“Well, I wish you luck with your child. Charlie and I will be just fine raising our own baby in the place we will find for ourselves,” she sighs dejectedly before she turns to leave.
“I would you to be careful with Charlie. If nothing else, I have known him for a long time and he has not been the most reliable person in the world.” I caution her, pulling out what remaining vestiges of my heart that allow me to care for Aveline since she divorced me.
“I have nothing to worry about with Charlie,” Aveline replies quickly, running her hand through her long, black hair as she faces me again.
“Do not be so sure. Charlie probably has many children the world over. I am surprised he has stayed with you this long,” I shake my head at the thought of Charlie’s philandering ways. He has slept with more women than my former company has employees, it seems and no matter what I feel for Aveline, no woman should have to be subject to that.
“He’s told me about his past but I ‘m concerned about the now, Randall and he has been nothing but generous,” Aveline shoulders slump before she grips the sides of her face with her hands, rubbing her temples.
Standing, I walk near her before I say, “Do not say I did not warn you, Aveline. Despite your betrayal, you are better than him. But I can see why you do not love him. You are cautious already.”
I reach out to grip her hand in reassurance, but she turns and stalks away before she says, “Charlie is ten times the man you are, Randall T. Worthington. He is kind and forgiving. Just because we didn’t feel so insecure that the first time we had sex, we needed to make our declarations of love, doesn’t make us any less of a couple. We are friends first and that is a solid foundation.”
I almost find myself laughing at the irony of Aveline’s words of friendship when she spent most of the beginning of our relationship seducing me rather than speaking to me. Maybe in the end, we were never friends and that is why divorcing me was such an easy proposition. But I bite my tongue while I reply, “I hope your friendship is enough to sustain you with your child, Aveline because I know one thing about parenting. The child learns love from their parents, even in the womb. I read that last night.”
“What do you know about love? You seem to give your heart away so easily that it must be hard for you to keep track who you are in love with on a daily basis,” Aveline snorts and my teeth clench at her cruel words.
“I have only loved two women. One stabbed me in the back after I gave her my heart and the other has been nothing but kind and generous since I met her at Hogwarts,” I grind my teeth as I speak, my anger surely registered in my tone.
“But at least I found someone I cared for instead of stringing along someone who I say I hold dear. Just because you cannot have me anymore does not mean that you have to hurt others….even if they deserve it.”
“I am not stringing him along, Randall, we care for each other greatly but we are taking things slowly,” Aveline says smugly and walks near me again.
“Well, I would not take things too slowly or your poor child will never experience love until they graduate from Hogwarts. That is if you ever find love together,” I snicker loudly and watch Aveline’s eyes open in horror.
“I can tell you one thing, Mr. Worthington. You’ve made it very easy to make sure I never love you,” Aveline spins and leaves.
I stand silently until I hear the thunder of the door crashing before I walk to the front entrance and make sure the locking charms work…
March 22nd, 2006
|08:33 am - "The Golden Rule..."|
”I love it, Whizzy. We’ll be close to everything and it still has a garden. I can imagine our child building forts or maybe playing chase with a friend…or a brother or sister….”
Dorrie’s words play over and over in my head as I sit in my estate agent’s lobby. Dorrie and I had been allowed to visit a truly incredible mansion and when she walked in, I knew Dorrie had fallen in love with the place. When I saw the look in her eye after we left, I realized that she deserved the very best as did our child…and in her estimation, this home was the very best.
It seemed a bit small for me but Dorrie was fascinated with the woodwork and general ambiance of the home. We walked around it for an hour and by the time we were done, I was exhausted and had to sit. Fortunately, Dorrie wanted to leave soon after and she told me that this is the home she desired although she asked that I would not overspend or step on too many toes to acquire the house for her.
But that is not my way and as soon as I left Dorrie at the Ministry Building, I called Devin Bledsoe, my father’s valued estate agent and told him I wanted the house at any cost. A half hour later, I was in his office, waiting impatiently for him to come out of his office so we could discuss how long it would be before Dorrie and I could move in.
“Mr. Worthington,” I look up and see the venerable features of Mr. Bledsoe smiling at me. His hand shakes as it reaches down to me. I stand after we exchange pleasantries and follow him through his door. After we enter his tastefully decorated office and he offers me a cup of tea, we sit before he tents his hands and croaks, “I am sorry to inform you, Randall, but the property you want to purchase is currently under bid.”
“Is this a problem, Devin? You know my father’s motto. ‘Keep throwing Galleons at it until it falls down',” I grin placing my hands on the mahogany desk. My tone turns deadly serious as I continue, “I want the house, Devin and more importantly, the mother of my child wants the home. I will have it, no matter what I need to do to acquire it.”
“Randall, I’ve spoken to the estate agent who holds the bid. He is adamant and he will be delivering the bid this afternoon.” Devin sighs, knowing that much like my father, I will not be denied.
“So the bid is not in yet? Then I still have time. Give me the estate agent’s name, Devin,” Smiling confidently, I lean back in my chair. If the bid has not been approved, then I will have an opportunity to use my wealth and my business acumen to win the house that Dorrie and I want to raise our child in.
“I don’t think you will even be able to change his mind, Randall,” Devin shakes his head but reaches for his quill and scrawls down the name and address of the estate agent. As he hands the parchment to me, he asks, “Would you like me to call ahead for you, Randall or will you make a grand entrance?”
“I believe a grand entrance would be in order, Devin. But you may call ahead and thank you,” I smirk before I leave Devin’s office, clutching the parchment in my hand. I find myself chuckling, knowing this property is mine. It is not that I am overconfident but in business, it is like two Seekers barreling toward each other at full speed, chasing the Snitch…who ever flinches first loses…and I do not flinch.
Apparating to the address Devin gave me, I find myself standing in front of a faded white building, the paint splotched and the foundation cracking as the entire place seems to tilt slightly to the right. I make sure of the address before I walk into the ‘Violet Fields Agency’, sellers of fine homes for over fifty years.
Entering the building, I feel a bitter cold breeze pass under my robes and I am thankful that the interior of the decrepit business is at least warm. A smiling woman who looks eerily like a scarecrow greets me and I glance down at her nametag and it seems to me that the name ‘Madge’ is quite appropriate for her.
She stands and opens a door, her teeth flashing, showing a large smear of lipstick on one of her incisors as she says, “Welcome, Mr. Worthington. Mr…”
An Owl flies in through their delivery hatch and Madge squeaks as it lands on her shoulder. I move past her as she tries to disengage herself from the owl and step into the office. Closing the door behind me, I immediately crinkle my nose as the smell of old cheese, stale cigarettes, and foot odor assails me. I flinch backwards as I stare at the horrific pea soup green color on the wall and the myriad plaques declaring the greatness of the recipient…
“Mr. Worthington, I’m so glad to see you,” A pudgy hand reaches out and takes mine and I feel grease ooze between my fingers as my greeter seemed to be eating some type of sausage product judging from the large piece of meat sitting on his collar. I stare at the large oil stains on his shirt as he introduces himself and I completely miss his name.
“Pleased, I am sure,” I say with a slight bit of disdain as I take out my pocket square and wipe my hand. He waddles back to his seat and motions for me to join him.
I place myself in a chair after wiping it down before I say, “Umm…Mr….well, I am here about the residence you have taken a bid for a few days ago. I am interested in seeing if you would reconsider opening the bid again for ownership.”
“Mr. Worthington, I am a man of honor and I cannot break a promise to a client like that,” the agent answers and I give him my most disarming smile.
“You work on commission and if you are the fine salesman your awards suggest, then you would be wise to hear me out.” I sit back and steeple my fingers. Pausing for dramatic effect, I wait until the agent nearly falls out of his chair while he leans forward before I say, “I am prepared to pay the bidder’s price plus an additional fifty percent.”
The fat agent’s eyes bug out and he nearly keels over before he recovers and sputters, “That is very generous, Mr. Worthington but my client will be quite upset if I were to go back on my word.”
“Give me their name and I may be able to convince them.” I respond quickly.
“I’m not at liberty to give names, Mr. Worthington. That is my company’s policy.” the agent retorts, seemingly in shock at my request.
“You are being quite uncooperative, sir. But I believe we can make this work. I will do whatever needs to be done to acquire this home. You could be a very satisfied man. Tell me what needs to be done.” I wear my most predatory grin as I respond.
“I can’t do that, Mr. Worthington,” he gasps in shock but he tilts his head and stares at one of the numerous plaques hung crookedly on the wall.
I soon understand his signal and wander over. The plaque states that he is part of the ‘Ten Thousand Units Sold Club’ and I know the figure that will ensure the home is mine. Turning and nodding my head, I say, “But I really want the home for my child. I am expecting my first child and it would mean a great deal to make sure their mother is comfortable. You can understand.”
The agent pauses as if he is in deep concentration but I can see the glimmer of greed in his eyes as I sit and fill out a chit for him to withdraw ten thousand Galleons from my account. He grins as I hand it to him and says, “Since there is a baby involved, Mr. Worthington, I believe we can say your bid is more than sufficient and my other client will just need to understand that the development of a child is involved.”
He tears up the sealed bid parchment from his other client and throws it into his fireplace before he shakes my hand. This time, I do not even care about my fingers being coated in grease as I reply, “My child, the woman I love, and I thank you. It has been a pleasure doing business with you…” I glance at a plaque on the wall and say clearly, “Mr. Myron Pimpletom…”
March 8th, 2006
|04:30 pm - Locket in my Pocket|
“The first expansion will be up and running soon, gentlemen. Dublin is yours,” I announce proudly as the lean on the counter at Zonko’s. George and Fred stand in front of me, grinning although both look tired and Fred seems a bit distracted.
The work on the Dublin store has been progressing surprisingly quickly and I am amazed that they’ve been able to get it up and running so soon. Although they argued, it has been decided that Fred’s employee, Cosmo, will be taking over the store even if Fred’s argument had merit that the rest of his staff is less experienced than everyone else. George countered that he had Gabrielle and she was worth any two of his employees. Fred begrudgingly gave in but I can see the concern on his face over the loss of his assistant manager.
At first, when George told me about the wager they had placed with Headmistress McGonagall, I thought it was some huge jest. Surely, these two businessmen would not sacrifice their profit margin for someone’s education despite the love one of them felt for that person? But it seems that the story is true and now, Fred and George both need to pass seven NEWTs in order for the Headmistress to allow many of the items to be rescinded from the list.
This worries me because it seems that the boys do not understand the concept of the bottom line and that they should not allow emotion to affect their profit margin. Emotions like love and lust should never be allowed to play a part in their business and they should look at me as a prime example of that folly since I was foolish enough to allow lust to control me when I allowed myself to marry Aveline without a prenuptial.
But it is their business and they are successful, brash, and bold…both are successful in love and their chosen field while I now search for my niche after falling from the pinnacle. Now, I find myself admiring these two men I once called miscreants but I fear that soon, their Hogwarts folly will find them since they have allowed one of their prime customer bases to be removed.
“Thank you so much, Whizzy. I don’t know what we would have done without you. I think that naming you our business advisor and then putting you in charge of expansion was a stroke of genius,” George grins while he shakes my hand.
“Well, in my role as business advisor, gentleman, I need to mention that the mid-spring campaign will need to be developed soon,” I say with a grin while I turn to look at Fred who has always handled the creative aspects of the business, such as marketing.
“I’m in charge of that but I just haven’t had the time to get started yet,” Fred admits while he states down at the counter after shoving his hands in his pockets.
“He’s been pining over Gabrielle going to Hogwarts, Whizzy. It seems that Fred doesn’t realize that if he doesn’t get the ‘Wicked’ and ‘Wonder’ campaigns going, we may be struggling because of the lost revenue from Hogwarts,” George jerks his thumb at Fred while he shakes his head. He gives a tight smile while he turns to Fred and continues, “We need the campaign up and running by our birthdays or we can’t put it in any of the spring guides and I’m not creative enough to do it. Your books too, Fred, I need the numbers so we can comprise our quarterly report and decide how much inventory we can send to Dublin. Plus, you need to make up for Gabrielle’s expertise at Potions, Fred. She designed a good bit of the ‘Wicked’ line.”
“I know, George. I’ll get it all done along with studying,” Fred frowns while he removes his hand from his pocket and finds a quill before he begins to jot down some notes.
That is the spirit, Fred,” I grin while I clap him on the shoulder but I can tell he is showing the signs of being overwhelmed and I will need to look in on him at some time in the future.
After we are done, I shake both their hands and depart for home, happy about a job well done for my partners. It has been an improbable journey that has brought me here but with each accomplishment, I find that there is a certain job satisfaction that comes from being the one who initiates the action rather than the one who approves it. It has been eye-opening to be able to discuss and decide upon critical ventures with my partners without having to face a review board or task force that dissects every bit of information that I give them.
When I arrive at our penthouse suite, I enter the flat and am pleased to feel myself immediately embraced by the lovely Nymphadora Tonks. Her mouth covers mine and she lets out the ever so soft moan which I find so delightful before she murmurs, “I missed you so badly today, Whizzy.”
“I believe I can tell, love. How are you feeling?” I reply, running my hand through her shoulder length brown hair.
“A bit better but I’m still under the weather. I think I need to go see a healer,” Dorrie responds as we break apart. Dorrie walks to the sofa as I remove my robe and join her. It seems that we have become so comfortable together and I enjoy time just sitting together as much as the time we are out and about on the town or in another country. We enjoy each other’s company more than we did in our previous incarnation as a couple and undoubtedly, it is because I am now present rather than worried about a multimillion Galleon corporation.
“Well, if you do go, darling, I have ample free time now, so I will accompany you,” I reply while putting my arm around Dorrie.
“I’d love that, Whizzy,” Dorrie stretches her body out against mine. She leans over and puts her head in my lap, her temple coming into abrupt contact with the contents of my trouser pocket. Suddenly she rises, holding her head as she exclaims, “What is that, Whizzy?”
She taps at the contents of my pocket and I realize that I forgot my good luck charm in my trouser pocket instead of returning them to my robes. I try to play it off by chuckling, “That is nothing, Dorrie. Those are some Galleons that are stacked in my pocket. I should have shrunk them.” She arches a skeptical eyebrow at me. “Fine then,” I say more defensively than I mean, “It is a good luck charm that I keep with me.”
I move my body away from Dorrie but I already know her curiosity is riled and there is nothing I can do to stop her, but the embarrassment of revelation is too much, so I attempt to stand. Dorrie puts her hand on my leg and tilts her head curiously, “That wasn’t a Galleon or ten, Whizzy. Now what is this good luck charm you are speaking about? I’ve never known you to put any weight in luck.”
Sighing, I resign myself to the fact that I am caught and I scoot down on the sofa while reaching my hand into my pocket. I take hold of the small piece of jewelry in there and pull it out. Dorrie gasps when she views the small Celtic locket on a short chain as I say, “It is not a big deal. I have carried it around with me and I forgot it was there.”
“Is it you and Aveline?” Dorrie asks hesitantly and I quickly try to alleviate her concerns.
Grinning, I reply while I sit up, ”No, it is a locket that I have had since long before I met Aveline.”
I hand the locket to Dorrie who stares at it for a moment before she opens it and looks at the picture inside it. Her hand flies to her mouth while she squeals, “Oh Merlin, you had so much hair back then.”
Laughing, I glance at the photograph and shake my head while I reply, “Yes, I was a bit more into my hair in the past but all the women loved it back at Hogwarts.”
“This is seventh year when you and I went to the lake when Charlie was sick. I had made a picnic and Charlie told me to take you so it wouldn’t go to waste. I had a nice time,” she replies as she reaches up and runs her thumb along my jaw line. She looks at the picture again while she adds, “I had a wonderful time that day, Whizzy. It was nice of you to take me there.”
“It was not an inconvenience at all and maybe I slipped a stomachache Potion into Charlie’s pumpkin juice so we could spend time together,” I respond as I recall memories of the joyous time I had that day pretending that Dorrie was mine, but in the end, after two hours of sitting with me, she became antsy and I knew it was time to return her to Charlie.
“Enough of that,” I say after a moment’s silence and I reach over Dorrie and hit a stud on the side of the locket. Dorrie scratches the back of my hand. The picture changes and I chortle as I watch Dorrie’s eyes grow wide.
“Dear Gods, Whizzy, I can’t believe you have this picture. This is completely unfair because I was so drunk,” she gasps while staring at a small photo of herself during our seventh year.
I gaze at the picture and remember her, Charlie, Martha, and I were on a seventh year open weekend. We got gloriously inebriated at the Leaky and on the way up the stairs to go to our respective rooms, Dorrie ended up on the floor to our collective delight. I took the photograph at just the right moment and I have kept it since then. It has always reminded me of Dorrie at her finest. I do remember one event from that evening that seemed to sum up my early relationship with Ms. Nymphadora Tonks. Martha and I spent a good part of the night fighting because of the attention I spent on Dorrie and looking back at the evening now, I can see where Martha might have been right.
“Of course, I would keep this picture, Dorrie. It shows your natural beauty and grace,” I chuckle and she punches me in the arm.
Dorrie smiles in return but her mood turns reflective as she asks, “When did you get this, Whizzy?”
“I bought it during seventh year after I took your picture. I kept it with me from then on as a good luck charm and to remind me of our friendship,” I respond tentatively and feel myself blush.
“Why didn’t I ever see it before?” Dorrie takes the locket and closes it while twirling it in her hand.
“I put it away when we were together before because I was somewhat embarrassed by it all and I still am,” I reflect that the idea that I would carry a photo of a woman who I considered to be untouchable at that time and would hold onto it for decades seems a bit creepy, even to myself. But I put the locket together and kept it on me for years as both a symbol of our friendship and later it did become a good luck charm for me although when Dorrie and I became involved a few years ago, I deigned to put it in a safe place.
Since Aveline left me and Dorrie began to take care of me, the locket has once more become part of my ensemble and it has brought me a burst of good tidings with Dorrie and the business.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Whizzy...I’m...touched. I can’t believe that you think of me this highly,” she answers and stares deeply into my eyes, her brown eyes misting over. I touch her face, feeling the soft skin on her cheek as she adds, “It’s such a wonderful gesture.”
“Well, you have always been special to me, Dorrie. You know that,” I state while kissing her softly on the head.
Dorrie turns the locket over in her hand once more and then hands it back to me, “Thanks, Whizzy for sharing that with me.”
“I want you to have it, Dorrie,” I say quietly as Dorrie looks at me in surprise. Bringing my hand down, I close it over hers, holding the locket in place while I say, “I think that all the good luck I need is sitting right next to me, love.”
February 28th, 2006
|04:26 pm - "New Tricks..." NC 17 for Adult Content|
The day has been a difficult one as I prepared the documents for Fred and George to assume control of the location in Dublin. I could not believe that they trusted me enough to approve the location sight unseen but of course, it is strange to consider that I am in a position where I would need to ask anyone for approval on anything. I even found myself at first lamenting but then actually enjoying the process of preparing the parchment for the assumption of title and property. It is so different to put thought into the development and maintaining of a project rather than mindlessly signing reams of parchment to decide on whether million Galleon deals should live or die.
Humming to myself, I make my way to the penthouse flat I share with Dorrie. Life has been grand since our time together in Dublin. Although our stay was brief, we were able to open up to each other and her declaration of love for me left me breathless with excitement. It seems that our relationship this time is so much different and I know that change has come from me. If anything, Dorrie is still somewhat hesitant even with her profession of love while I find that I am overcoming the intense feelings I had for Aveline, although the anger still remains.
After opening the door, I walk inside, expecting to spend a few more hours alone since Dorrie has gone to spend the afternoon with her mother when she left work. I plan on taking a bath, something that I do not do often but I do enjoy a soak in an essential oil bath after a long day. But I am pleasantly surprised when I find Dorrie home already, lying on the sofa in her bath robe.
She wakens as I walk in and concern immediately crosses my features. Sitting next to her on the sofa, I ask softly, “Are you feeling okay, love? You were not supposed to be home until much later.”
“I’m fine, Whizzy. I’m just a bit tired after all the shopping and I decided to come spend time with you rather than eat dinner with my family,” Dorrie grins while she sits up but I am still worried because she looks a bit peaked. She stretches as she adds, “I am a bit achy and sore. I’m sorry but I just feel out of sorts.”
“Well, is there anything I can do for you?” I inquire softly, drawing her body closer to mine.
“No, I’m just coming down with a cold or something,” she smiles wanly and I can hear her exhaustion while she leans her head on me. My hand touches the back of her neck and I begin to gently caress her as she bends her head forward while sighing, “Gods, that feels good, Whizzy.”
Hearing her exclamation thrills me to no end and I find myself enjoying the idea of providing some small measure of comfort for Dorrie. Standing quickly, I hold out my hand and smile wickedly, “I believe that I might have a way for you to even feel better, love.”
“I’m not sure I’m up to that, Whiz. My stomach’s been in knots all day,” Dorrie responds but she takes my hand and I lead her into our bedroom.
“That is fine, Dorrie. I just want you to feel wonderful,” I grin as we enter the bedroom. After I release her hand, she stares at me demurely, her shyness intoxicating as I command, “Get naked and lie on the bed. I will be back in a moment.”
I watch while she disrobes, taking in each soft curve, memorizing each millimeter of her pale skin before she lies on the bed while I make my way to the loo. Finding the lavender scented oil that I want, I make my way back to the bed and sit behind her after shedding everything but my boxers. My wand flickers out first and the lighting in the room dims, the floating overhead candles, providing the right setting for this moment.
Lifting her foot, I begin to press my fingers against the balls of her feet, working my way up to her delicate toes. She shivers when I touch her arch, a small sigh of satisfaction passing her lips. When I reach her toes, I pull on them lightly, feeling them relax under my touch before I stretch her foot until it finally begins to loosen, the tension of the day washing away.
My hands rub together, warming the oil before I place them on her calves and knead the lavender scent in gently. Dorrie groans as I hum softly, working my way to her thighs, manipulating the taut muscles there until they relax. Her body tenses slightly again when my hands begin to caress the soft flesh of her buttocks but she melts once more against my touch. Her lower body moves against me when I allow a thumb to run between her arse cheeks before she murmurs, “Whizzy…”
Still, my ministrations are not done and I move to Dorrie’s back, pausing to drizzle oil there. Dorrie jumps as the cool liquid hits her but when my hands touch her again, my thumbs rolling up her spine, she groans deliciously. My palms face outward as I move them up her back, my fingers grazing her sides and I watch while Dorrie’s body quivers. Finally, my hands rest on her neck and Dorrie moans, “I need you inside me, Whizzy.”
( Wicked GamesCollapse )
"I wanted to make sure you were ready for my new technique, love," I grin while I stand. Dorrie turns over while I pull down my boxers and feel a familiar longing course through me. I crawl onto the bed, poising my body over her while she looks at me eagerly before I smirk, "Now, my dear, I'm going to show you something completely different..."
February 18th, 2006
|04:25 pm - "Breakdown..."|
Today has been quite a success. It seems that the property I have chosen for the third Weasley Wizarding Wheezes store is ideal and well within the allocated budget of myself and my two partners. The location sits in the Hidden Hills, an Irish Wizarding shopping district much like Hogsmeade. It sits outside Dublin and has a long standing tradition of prosperous businesses in its locale. Of course, it is difficult to acquire property in this area but several of my former connections I made with Cleansweep were able to assist me with this endeavor and the ‘McDougall Magical Musical Menagerie’, a purveyor of musical oddities and instruments will soon be transformed to Wealey Wizarding Wheezes of Dublin.
Sitting in the leather recliner in my suite, I prop my legs up on the coffee table in front of me, enjoying a snifter of cognac, a fine French Columbard, aged in a Limousin cask and distilled in an Alambic still, which is stamped XO, which means it has been aged for over six years, but I know this particular bottle, grown in the exclusive Ugni Blanc province of France has been sitting for sixty five years.
Swirling the cognac, I take a small sip, feeling it burn down my throat before a pleasant warmth envelopes my body. Still, I wonder after the success of today, why I would feel so disconsolate. Dorrie is set to arrive shortly after taking a Portkey from the Ministry and we will celebrate well into the night our reunion and my triumphant return to the business world. I should be eager, given that she has brought nothing but joy into my life but then I realize that this is the first time I have been truly alone since the day that Aveline tried to destroy me by taking my heart, hearth, and family business.
Sighing, I stare through the snifter at the brilliant colors reflected in the golden brown liquid, so much like Dorrie’s eyes…so much like Aveline’s eyes. The two women who have divorced me within the past six months, although I have been able to at least maintain a healthy relationship with one of them while the other one deceived me.
I have not been able to put behind me the vile act that Aveline committed. I loved her and allowed myself to be lost in her, something I rarely did with Dorrie. I thought that surely after our tender confessions and the moments we shared during our repast at her parent’s home in France, we were bonded for life but it was just a month later that she lorded over me while I groveled at her feet.
Of course, her treachery is amplified by her false association with Charlie. I cannot help but think that their relationship is nothing more than a sham brought about as a reaction to Dorrie and I deciding to reunite. Her admission of love proves that but still, it is Charlie who is with her now and this is another issue which seems to be casting a dark taint on my soul.
He was once my best friend but now, I cannot imagine feeling anything but vehemence and I find myself in disbelief that it was a mere four months ago that I tried to bring Aveline into my circle of friends by introducing her to Dorrie and Charlie. It was during this time that I gained my treasure, my marriage to Aveline, but in the process lost Charlie as a friend. Fortunately, I regained Dorrie and I do not think I would be alive without her in my life now.
I find myself wondering if my marriage to Aveline was worth the pain it caused me. She left me ruined. During our brief union, I lost my best friend, my family, and my business. In exchange for all this pain, I received a broken heart…something is wrong with this equation.
We fought…by Merlin…did Aveline and I fight but that was part of the passion of our relationship and maybe it is that intensity that I miss the most but yet, that which I am loathe to experience with Dorrie. I do not understand how I can be involved with two women who are so different and at one point love them both.
“This is not the way you imagined your life, Randall,” I whisper before I gulp down a copious amount of Cognac and refill my snifter. Had my life been perfect, I would never have lost Dorrie after struggling for a lifetime to win her but then there would have been no Aveline.
Had life been fair, Charlie would still be at my side giving me wise counsel while listening to my most inane problems with a patient ear. My mother and sister, who I chose to live with until Aveline entered my life, would still wait for me at the breakfast table every morning so we could greet the day together.
“Life is not fair, Worthington…life is not fair,” I tip the snifter again, feeling that familiar burn, wondering if Charlie was right the entire time. Hatred and despair can be alleviated with strong drink…at least for a bit.
But I find that his solution does not work for me when the first faint drop of moisture cascades down my cheek. I lift my hand to my face and slowly wipe the wetness away, marveling that I was crying, soft sobs wracking me, the result of a month denying all that had happened to me.
I clumsily place the snifter on the table, wincing when I catches the edge and falls to the marble floor, shattering into a thousand pieces, a good bit of my fifty Galleon bottle of Cognac now smeared across the off-white inlaid marble.
At this moment, I do not care and all I want is this pain to stop. I moan softly, my body heaving while I put my head in my hands, “It is not Aveline, it is not Charlie…it is you, Randall, and you cannot stop it.”
It is this hatred that I must suppress, that is threading its way subtly through my soul. I realize that if I allow this blackness to consume me, I will lose the only thing which is right in my life…Nymphadora Tonks. My fist pounds into my leg in frustration. “Stop this now…Gods…I cannot lose her.”
“You won’t lose me, Whizzy,” I jump as a hand is placed on my shoulder. Turning around, I stare into Dorrie’s startling brown eyes as they pierce my soul, driving away some of the darkness there.
“How long?” I ask, my voice choked as I try to compose myself.
“Long enough to understand,” she answers quietly while sitting on the edge of the recliner.
She wraps her arms around me and I place my head in the crook of her elbow, relishing the healing touch of this remarkable woman who always seems to be there at the right time for me. I gulp a large amount of air and try to cast an illusion of calmness before I say, “Thank you so much, Dorrie. I need to cast away the demons, darling. I cannot stop hating Charlie and Aveline and it is making my soul wither. Will you help me change? I want to change for you.”
“I’ll always be there for you, Whizzy. You know that,” she states plainly, her hand pulling me closer until my head rests on her breast.
“I am not perfect, Dorrie. I will have failures but I need you in my life.” The words seem more natural this time and I realize that maybe it is not her actions which spur my declaration…maybe it is my own willingness to change for her.
“I know, Whizzy. I’m glad you’re finally facing your demons because I was worried about you,” she replies quietly and slides into my lap.
Hugging Dorrie close, I realize that for the first time since the divorce, neither Aveline nor Charlie were at the forefront of my mind with Dorrie….now it was only Dorrie. Smiling, I kiss the smooth skin of her throat before I murmur, “I love you, Nymphadora Tonks…”
February 6th, 2006
|04:23 pm - "Watching..." NC 17 for Adult Content|
I have come to the Ministry to visit Dorrie but in a way, I have a dual purpose here. I also want to make amends with Aveline and hopefully remove some of the hatred I have felt for her from my soul. After all, we were married at one time and much like my relationship with Dorrie, I would like to remain amicable with Aveline while I explore attempting to reconcile with Dorrie.
Since yesterday, I have felt badly for Aveline and the harsh treatment I gave her when I last visited her office. Although she tried to ruin me both financially and emotionally, I have found it within my heart to forgive her and even if I will never be able to trust her again, an occasional tea with her would not be out of the question.
But I have found myself more than happy with Dorrie and her radiance has added a glimmer of hope to what I thought was a hopeless situation when Aveline divorced me. Now, I am much happier and I wonder if Charlie regrets his foolishness for leaving Dorrie as I walk by his office. I speculate briefly if he has taken the coward’s way once more and started drinking again to ease his pain. He was pathetic then and I still do not know what Dorrie saw in him after he left Hogwarts. But it is my intention to make sure that all vestiges of Charlie’s memories are removed from Dorrie’s mind this time as I show her what a partner who truly cares for her can accomplish.
Still, I need to see Aveline, and as I enter the main office area of the Auror department, I angle toward her office, knowing that I am fifteen minutes early for my lunch appointment with Dorrie. This should give me more than enough time to apologize for my atrocious behavior during our last encounter in her office. I will also offer my condolences about her current loneliness before I begin to discuss my relationship with Dorrie, so Aveline will be fully appraised of my intentions with my first ex-wife.
The chaos of this department has always astounded me and I wonder if my skills in corporate organization could make a difference here. Still, it seems that they are able to accomplish their goals, but the utter disorganization causes my head to throb.
I walk to Aveline’s door and look at her assistant whose name escapes me as he sits across the hallway from her office. I begin to open the door when he says, “She’s in a meeting, Mr. Worthington. She’s not to be disturbed…even by you.”
“It will be alright, my good man. Anyways, I am her ex-husband and we do need to speak.” I reply with one of my world famous grins plastered across my face.
He returns my smile and waves me in while laughing, “Enter at your own risk, Mr. Worthington, she has been in a mood lately.”
I open the door slightly and hear a curious noise emanating from her office and I suddenly recognize the mingled sounds of repressed grunting and suppressed moans filling the space. When I open the door wider, I am shocked to see the shocking red hair of Charlie Weasley with the very familiar fingers of my second ex-wife running through them as they begin to enjoy each other in a most shameless manner.
( VoyeurCollapse )
I wonder for a moment if she has ever begged me with such desperation but I cannot watch this horrific display any longer. When I pull my head out, the brief vengeful thought of throwing the door open so the gathered Aurors in the office can see Aveline and Charlie ‘work’ crosses my mind but in the end, I realize that would be petty and I decide that it is best to leave this alone as I come to the understanding that my wife is now a whore to Charlie Weasley.
I straighten myself and am surprised at my own arousal and shift noticeably, thanking the person who decided that Wizards wearing robes was fashionable. I am also grateful that no one noticed my voyeuristic act and inquired about what I was doing peeking around Auror Rousseau’s door. Trying to explain my activity could have been embarrassing.
After a few moments moving slowly to calm down my urgency, I make my way to Dorrie’s office and the sinister thought of throwing her upon the desk and making love to her crosses my mind. But I know that I would just be trying to match Charlie and I have much more respect for Dorrie than that. Of course, I then wonder why I did the same act with Aveline and then I realize that my second ex-wife has much more base, uncouth tastes when it comes to her sexual needs and that is why she has chosen to ally herself with him.
I knock quietly at the door and open it before I say, “Hello, Dorrie darling. Are you ready to have lunch?”
Dorrie stands, a vision of beauty as she grabs her robe and begins to cross her office before I envelop her in a crushing hug. For a moment, I wonder if I should tell her about what I observed between Aveline and Charlie but those thoughts leave my mind when her lips capture mine in a hungered kiss. When she pulls away, I see the promise of so much more in her eyes while she says demurely, “I’ve got a surprise for you, Whizzy. I took the afternoon off.”
My eyes open wide at the implication of her simple statement and I find myself becoming erect again while I watch her almost shyly play her fingers against my robe. Her hand reaches up to cup my face before, I say, “I believe we will need to cancel lunch reservations then and pick up some strawberries and cream on the way home, Dorrie. I think I have a delightful new way to enjoy dessert before dinner…”
February 5th, 2006
|04:22 pm - "A New Man..." Rated NC-17 for Adult Content|
( Ch..Ch...Ch...ChangesCollapse )
The cascade of pleasurable anguish finally stops and I feel my body uncoil before I let go of Dorrie’s legs and flop down next to her. My hand strokes her lovely hair, removing one damp lock from her forehead while I say, “We have definitely improved in one area since we were separated.”
“Yes, we have, love, but I’ve got to go to the loo,” Dorrie replies while she looks at me sheepishly. She kisses me quickly before she stands and makes her way to the washroom. I watch her bottom jiggle as she moves quickly before she closes the door behind her.
Standing, I walk to the wardrobe and find one of my robes and put it on. Strange, but I no longer feel unclean after making love and now, I find that I enjoy the pleasant after glow much more if I am less obsessive about showering immediately afterwards. After I have adjusted the strap of the robe, I yell out, “I am going to get a drink, darling. Would you like something?”
No, I’m fine, Whizzy.” Dorrie replies and I make my way to the kitchen. My hands reach into the pockets of the fine white terry cloth robe and I feel something. Pulling it out, I open the small, crumpled piece of parchment and read it quickly, mouthing the words, “Compliments of the Bellagio…”
I stop and stare at the words and realize that this is from the hotel where Aveline and I spent our honeymoon. I find myself smiling despite my recent anger toward my second ex-wife as I think about the enjoyable time we had in Las Vegas away from the hassle of the real world here in Great Britain. She was radiant at our wedding and during our time together, I felt us bond and that eventually led to the love I thought we shared. Now, I know it was a sham but during our last month together, I truly enjoyed every moment and were it not for her traitorous act, I would still be happily married to her instead of seething with hatred for her like I am now.
Then I think of Aveline and wonder what she is doing now. I speculate whether she actually misses me or not. If she has been alone since she cast me aside. I know now that she is putting in long hours at her job, probably trying to forget about our time together. I have not heard from her since our night together when she gave herself willingly to me. I did not go to her office looking for us to make love and I feel it was her eagerness as well as mine that led to us sharing that moment, until I thought once more of her duplicity.
I almost feel a pang of guilt over the fact that I have found happiness and someone to share my life with again so quickly, but then I remember the harshness with which Aveline treated me and I smile, knowing that once more I have been able to overcome obstacles placed in front of me by others and stand triumphant. First, it was Charlie who thought to torment me by withholding information of his illicit affair with Aveline. Then it was Aveline herself who tried to destroy me by taking my company and ripping apart my heart. But in the end, I have been fortuitous enough to find Dorrie back in my arms again which is where she belonged in the first place and I have cast down and vanquished both of my foes, causing each to taste some of the suffering they sought to inflict upon me.
“What are you doing, love?” Dorrie’s voices startles me and I shove the paper back into my pocket.
She wraps her arms around my neck when I turn around and after we share a tender kiss, I say, “I am just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life again, Dorrie…I have been truly blessed…”
February 2nd, 2006
|04:15 pm - "Celebratons..."|
“So why are we at the Aladdin’s Lamp, Whizzy?” Dorrie asks me while I look at her, noticing how resplendent she is in her midnight blue evening dress.
“Because you look ravishing, we both love to eat here, and we are celebrating my newly formed partnership with Fred and George,” I reply happily while we are escorted to our table.
“That’s fantastic, Whizzy…Charlie’s brothers are the best,” she replies excitedly and I wince slightly at hearing his name. Dorrie has done a commendable job of keeping his name from me although I know she must feel some regret for their break up. I have tried to keep her mind (and other parts of her) occupied to make sure she does not succumb to the inevitable feeling of hopelessness that I have faced after Aveline destroyed my heart.
“Yes, they are, although Fred’s young girlfriend attempted to begin a discussion on our reconciliation, but Fred pulled her aside,” I say, remembering some of the more notable events of the meeting.
“I’m sure she wasn’t very flattering. She’s in tight with Aveline,” Dorrie responds while we each take our seat.
“No, Gabrielle was a bit forward, but other than that, she did what any teenager would do in that situation.” Taking my napkin, I drape it over my lap as I speak. I wince slightly at the mention of my ex-wife, her name still causing me a modicum of pain but I do not know if it is from the memory of our short lived marriage or the pain of our divorce.
Dorries scoots her chair in while I place an order for a magnum of champagne before she speaks, “Well, that’s fine but the most important thing is did you get what you wanted out of the negotiations?”
“That and more, Dorrie. I have a twenty percent cut now in every future Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. I asked for the first ten stores but they asked me to become a permanent partner. Of course, my bankroll played a part in their decision.” The waiter uncorks our bottle of Clus Du Mesnil, 1995, a single vineyard, limited production but well worth the cost of 85 Galleons.
He pours us each a flute and we toast before Dorrie asks hesitantly, “So does this mean that you’ll be traveling much, Whizzy, scouting locations?”
“I will only travel if I can take you, love.” I answer quickly and Dorrie smiles in relief. It has become my duty to try and make sure that I do not take Dorrie for granted this time around. I was absent during our marriage as much as I was there and Aveline’s deception has allowed me the time to take a look at my life and see what mistakes I have made.
“So, where will you take me first?” Dorrie smiles brightly while looking at her menu.
“I believe we will start out in Dublin. The market is ripe for a unique store like Wheeze’s and it will do well there. Of course, this will mean that we will need to make love in Dublin, my dear.” I reply with a mischievous wink before I place my order with the waiter.
Dorrie follows with her order and I am surprised to see that we both ordered spit-roasted lamb or kid and salads of wild greens, tiny raw artichokes and fresh fava beans which is one of my favorite meals, but I never thought Dorrie cared for the taste of lamb, but then again, I did not pay as much attention to her as I should have previously.
We enjoy another glass of champagne before the sensuous sound of the Uod, Tafblah, and Daf begin to fill the room. The cacophony of sound is on the verge of being disharmonious but for some reason, I find my foot tapping on the hardwood floor as I lose myself in the odd tempo of an unknown Arabic piece of music.
Closing my eyes, my body begins to sway slightly, the effects of the champagne and the success of my day beginning to take effect. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my back and I allow it to push me to a standing position. I recognize the lilting laugh of Dorrie, the soft sound cutting through the music to intoxicate me.
I open my eyes and am startled to find a lovely belly dancer standing in front of me, her body swathed in a cornucopia of violet hues. I try to step back but Dorrie’s hand stays me as she whispers in my ear, “Go, Whizzy, you should dance.”
I want to protest but the dark smoldering eyes and her wavy midnight black hair cascading past her shoulders breaks down any resistance I might have had when I take in the perfection of the lovely Arabian beauty in front on me. Still, I glance furtively at Dorrie, not wanting to upset her in any way.
But when Dorrie waves the back of her hands at me, I find myself moving forward while the single finger of this gorgeous woman beckons me. She raises one hand delicately to her forehead and stretches the other arm in front of her before she drops her hand to her hip She kicks softly with her foot, repeating the movement as she moves in a small circle, her scarves flying around her body, accentuating every movement.
I am amazed at the perfect synchronization of her body as her head bobs, her hips lift, her arms spin, her feet move in seemingly jilted steps, yet together providing one of the most mesmerizing moments I have experienced in my life, all the while, her brown eyes meet mine, captivating me even further.
The song stops and the beautiful dancer moves until she is standing before me and kisses me on the cheek before I take her hand and brush my lips across it. I mouth a silent thank you since I know my words would be drowned out by the raucous clapping from our audience.
I turn and bow to the restaurant patrons before I sit again. Dorrie grins while I adjust myself before she asks, “How did you enjoy the belly dancer, Mr. Worthington?”
“She was lovely, Dorrie, but I can think of one way the experience could have been better.” I smirk while our waiter puts our salads of wild greens in front of us.
“How is that, Whizzy?” Dorrie asks as she takes sip of her champagne, her dark red lips begging to be kissed, her tongue curling on the edge of the flute.
My hand reaches across the table and takes hers while I say, “If that belly dancer had been you, my lovely Nymphadora.”
January 28th, 2006
|04:13 pm - "A Visit From Dorrie..."|
“What is wrong with you, darling?” I say quietly while I hold Dorrie’s head against my chest. I had just opened the door to my flat when I saw her standing there despondently, holding a bag of blueberry scones.
“I went by the Ministry today to bring Charlie something to eat and I couldn’t find him. So I wandered down to the file room and he was coming out of there with Aveline,” she replies as I escort her to the sofa.
“Do you suspect they are having an affair, Dorrie?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to hear that Avie has found sanctuary in the arms of an old lover and also affected a woman who has helped me greatly during the past month.
“No, Whizzy…not Charlie. But it still hurts to see them together…it’s like he’s given her apart of himself,” Dorrie replies while sitting on the sofa. She arranges herself before offering me a scone.
I nod my gratitude before I take a bite of one and chew contemplatively. The idea that Aveline has befriended Charlie bothers me also. I realize that they were acquaintances before our divorce but if Avline sought comfort, I am sure that bastard would be more than willing to provide it. He has proven in the past that he cannot control his urges and while Dorrie stands by her conviction of Charlie’s faithfulness, I am less naïve and I know what he is capable of in this situation.
Still, I must refrain from upsetting Dorrie. She deserves so much better than his callous and very suspect behavior with his ex-lover and more importantly, the woman whom until last night, I loved with all my heart. But now, Aveline’s actions last night when she did not allow me to find completion make sense. She has found another to fill the small void I left in her life. Maybe in the end, I was just someone to satisfy her physical longing and now, she has found someone better to fulfill her carnal pleasure.
“Why are you so upset then if they are just acquaintances?” I query but I find my question to be akin to a fib because I feel the same hurt she does right now.
“I know how close you were to her, Whizzy, but it’s like Charlie has rejected me. We just made love this morning and a few hours later, Aveline is kissing him.” Dorrie’s bottom lip trembles and for a moment, I believe she is going to cry, so I bring her to me until she rests against my chest.
I must remain strong so I do not ask the obvious question about what type of kiss Charlie and Aveline shared. If they were nothing more than friends, they would not need to display that type of familiarity in public. Although their secret tryst on a Saturday in an area of the Ministry which is largely abandoned now seems even more suspect.
Now, my agitation begins to build as images of Aveline giving herself to Charlie flood my thoughts. But again I push away the image of Aveline standing against a file cabinet, her skirt lifted around her waist, Charlie eagerly thrusting into her while she wrapped her legs around him. Instead, I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself and focus on the only true friend I have left now.
“Charlie would not reject you, Dorrie. You are a beautiful woman and he would be foolish to stray,” I grin as Dorrie’s deep brown eyes, the color of cocoa, meet mine as I cup her chin and kiss her forehead gently.
“Thanks, Whizzy. I just hope you’re right. Aveline is so beautiful and seductive,” Dorrie responds quietly, her emotions held somewhat at bay but I know that her hurt runs deeper than she shows me. Charlie is a fool for his actions with Aveline when he has Nymphadora at home.
She lifts her head and I lean forward, savoring the succulent scent of this woman who shared my bed for over a year. It is different than Aveline’s heady, spicy, intoxicating scent. Dorrie reminds me of spring showers, fields of lilac, and I could easily lose myself in her, much like days past.
My lips touch the corner of her mouth, a mistake I regret the moment we make contact. I had meant to kiss her cheek but while lost in my reverie, I have brought my mouth too close to hers and now, a familiar desire begins to well inside of me. I am drawn to her and I let the kiss linger before I murmur into her skin, “I know I am right, Dorrie because I would never reject you.”
She pulls away and for a moment, I think that I have lost her, but she sits quietly, the look of surprise which ghosted across her features for a fleeting second now gone. She is beautiful, the raw innocence and passion hidden in her depths, so alluring, and when she tries to speak to me, I lean forward and claim her lips with mine.
I tentatively reach up and cup her cheeks, my fingers grazing over her jawline while my tongue probes into her mouth, finding the gentle warmth and sweet taste bewitching when she opens herself to me. Dorrie melts into my touch, a soft mewling so familiar rising from her throat while her head tilts to one side. I deepen our kiss, wanting nothing more than to share in this incredible woman who has kept my despair at bay. I feel her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me close as I allow my tongue to sweep more confidently into her mouth, finding hers while I try to elicit an impassioned response from my Dorrie.
“So right,” I moan softly, tracing my hands down her body, soon finding them at the swell under her breasts. But my words seem to break the spell we are under and Dorrie pulls away quickly, her shock evident as she curls away from me. I find my arousal to be too much and I reach for her desperately, my hand clutching her wrist. “Please Dorrie, you felt it also…”
As soon as the words fall from my lips, I know they are wrong…I am wrong and I fear now that I have lost this wondrous creature as a friend and a confidant. She gathers herself quickly and stands as I release her wrist while she looks down at me, “I can’t Whizzy…this is wrong. Goodbye.”
She walks toward the door and I stand and plead, “I am sorry, Dorrie. It was my fault. I was overcome and took advantage of your vulnerability. Please do not end our friendship.”
Dorrie turns, a look of quiet contemplation on her face while she says, “I won’t end our friendship, Whizzy. You need me now, but it can’t be in that way…”
“What will you do now?” I ask before breathing a sigh of relief that I have not lost her while I take her hand.
She takes a deep breath and sighs. Dorrie drops her hand from mine and turns to leave before she whispers, “I’m going to try find a way to explain what happened to Charlie.”
January 27th, 2006
|04:12 pm - "Shattered..." NC 17 for Sexual Content....|
( ClaimCollapse )
“Randall…Randall…Randall….” My name falling from Aveline’s lips cuts through the haze. When I stare at her, I see a serenity come over her features while she asks softly, “You would rape me, Whizzy?”
My mind shatters as the primal energy that possessed me suddenly dissipates and I am left devoid of emotion until an overwhelming sorrow begins to crush me. I have become what I detest, a mere animal controlled by his base needs and because of that, I nearly raped a woman I was married to less than a month ago. Falling to my knees, I moan, my hands covering my face in my shame.
After a few moments, I look up at her, my eyes welling with tears and all I see is pity in her brown orbs while she stares at me. Her mouth opens but she closes it quickly, the chasm widening between us because of my senseless cruelty. I want to apologize…to tell her I am sorry but I find myself still enraged by the malicious acts she has committed against me and in the end, I realize that she does not deserve my sorrow nor my love.
Instead, I stand quietly and try to gather what little dignity I have left. I turn to speak but I realize there is nothing for me to say before I zip my trousers and walk out the door.
January 20th, 2006
|04:11 pm - New Possibilities|
After my unexpected meeting with Aveline at her Barrister’s office, I find myself bitter and confused. Aveline has taken away my life but still, she just sat there, staring at me while she took the higher ground in our brief exchange. Still, I noticed the want in her eyes when we spoke alone afterwards and it is this reaction which prompted me to ask Dorrie to meet me in Diagon Alley for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.
Surprisingly enough, after sampling the wares at the Leaky, I have found the food to my liking even if it is somewhat common and I know with her droll taste in foods, Dorrie would leap at the opportunity to dine there. Of course, I do not need to tempt her with food because Dorrie has become my truest friend and a confidant whom I trust implicitly. It seems that my divorce from Aveline has intensified my friendship with Dorrie and she has carried me through a rough period in my life.
Her gracious offer to help me move my few meager belongings on Saturday was highly appreciated and even though we were done in a few hours, she stayed well into the evening helping me to unpack. I have even agreed to allow her to redecorate this place and add some color to my bare walls…with the provision that there is not an abundance of pink throughout the house. But I would even allow that hideous color to be added to my penthouse just to have Dorrie around for a bit longer. I have truly enjoyed her company and maybe now, with our renewed friendship, I will be able to try to provide some amount of recompense for the grievous errors I committed in the past when it comes to our marriage.
Of course, I realize she has fallen for Charlie but that is to be expected since he was her first love and somewhere inside, she has always loved him, even when she was with me, but it has been nice to find the easy companionship again that Dorrie and I once shared. Maybe if I had not been such a fool, I could have maintained my relationship with Dorrie and she could have helped me with some of my struggles with Aveline. Instead, I let Dorrie slip away and I can see now where a combination of Aveline’s infatuation with Charlie and some of my early mistakes in regards to our relationship led to our divorce…well…along with the fact that the money-grubbing woman wrested my company away from me.
“Wotcher Whizzy,” Tonks’ cheerful voice calls out and I see her standing next to George Weasley, the co-proprietor of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, a highly successful joke and prank emporium in Diagon Alley. Along with Zonko’s, which his brother, Fred runs, it seems that the Weasley twins have stumbled into a virtual gold mine. I have been intrigued by their company for some time and after I remember running a cost analysis and a profit/loss statement on their company when I still owned Cleansweep, I wonder if the boys realize the possibilities for their company.
“Heard you might be interested in a job, Whizzy, old chap?” George sniggers while leaning on the broom he is carrying.
Dorrie hugs me and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek while I reply, “I may have lost my company, George but I have more money stuffed underneath my mattress than you will see in a lifetime.”
“I actually believe you on that one, Whizzy, but I do have a proposal I’d like to talk about. As you know, Fred and I expanded into a second location and it’s done stunningly well and we were thinking about some future expansion. Maybe try out the continent…,” George begins to sweep the front of his entryway and I find it ironic that I have been reduced to discussing business matters on the street while watching the shopkeeper idly clean the same spot over and over.
“That might be interesting, George. Your margins are amazing and with the ‘Wicked’ line, you have the capital base to afford expansion without too much hardship. There is also a dearth of your type of unique business in our world today.” I reply, holding my chin as I run over the possibilities in my head.
“Well, I don’t know Fred’s whereabouts for the rest of the week but I can get hold of him if you’d like to speak to the both of us,” George’s eyes light up at my response and he grins widely while he speaks.
“Get in touch with me when he returns and then we will discuss these matters. Of course, dinner will be your treat.” I smile before I take his hand. He shakes my hand vigorously before Dorrie and I make our way to the Leaky.
“So, what’s so important that you had to have lunch with me, Whizzy?’ Dorrie exclaims, wrapping her arm in mine. She looks wonderful, even with the violet shade of hair she has chosen to affect. But I find that I am more easily able to look past Dorrie’s idiosyncrasies now and focus on the wonderful friend she has become to me. When we were married, she knew I preferred willowy blondes, so she became what I desired but now, I see that I should have been able to just accept her for whatever she chose because it is the person inside that counts.
Smiling, I realize that it is time for me to throw off the yoke of despair I have been wearing since Aveline left me. She has left me ruined but now, I know that I need to pick myself up by the proverbial bootstraps and find out what I am going to do with the rest of my life since my ex-wife will not hand my company back to me. I must make it on my own and the opportunity to work with Fred and George will give me the perfect chance to find success without something being handed to me.
Taking Dorrie’s hand in mine, I begin to laugh, “There is nothing I wanted, Dorrie, other than the company of a beautiful woman and a loyal friend to share lunch with today, my dear.”
“It’s good to see you laugh, Whizzy. You’ve always looked better when you smile,” she exclaims while we walk down the street together.
“Well, my dear Dorrie, I believe you will be seeing many more of my trademark grins. Randall T. Worthington, is back in the game,” I say happily as I open the door for my truest friend, Nymphadora Tonks.
January 11th, 2006
|04:06 pm - "Living Arrangements..."|
I have spent the past few days wandering around Magical England trying to get an idea of what I want to do with the rest of my pathetic life. I thought that Cleansweep would always play a vital role in my future but now that is gone and with it, much of my devotion and dedication. I am adrift and sadly enough, it is because I allowed that succubus I married last October to own my soul. She seduced me for my empire and left me to rot in the streets.
If it had not been for Dorrie, I would be dead now. She has kept me alive, consoling me when I needed it, and providing me with the comfort I have desired to make it through this time of desolation. She has made life bearable, but alas, I find that I have to to leave my savior and find a place of my own. It is the man she has chosen as a life mate who infuriates me and forces me away from Dorrie. The idea of living in a home with Charlie after his deception is abhorrent and I cannot bite back my revulsion any longer.
I need to leave Dorrie’s residence and I have rented a room in the Leaky Cauldron until I am able to find a place of my own. Of course, the abysmal living conditions in the Leaky have spurred me to locate a new residence sooner than later. I can still more than afford any place in which I choose to live. Aveline’s deception did not carry that far. Had she been intelligent, she would have caught me during a moment of weakness when she had used her vile seduction to weaken me and had me sign over the rest of my company. Instead, she left me with enough to live and live well.
I just do not know my feelings for Aveline yet. On one hand, I have to admit, I still love her, but the fire that consumed me at one time has diminished since she has taken away all that I hold dear. Now, I feel the bitterness creeping in to replace any type of emotion I had for Aveline. She has made my heart grow cold and only Dorrie has been able to stop the iciness from taking over.
Now, I stand in front of the ‘Halverton Grand Estates’, a rather diminished looking property given its grandiose name, but one that is suitable for my immediate needs. They have advertised a four bedroom Penthouse flat that, while I am sure is nowhere near as luxurious or spacious as my residence in the Cleansweep Building, it will provide a more than adequate living space for me.
Strange, but the idea of sharing a living space with another individual now is abhorrent. I believe I have learned my lesson and I am finished with women, at least for a time. Two divorces within a year have taught me that maybe marriage is not my cup of tea. But I know I deceive myself, since some woman will come along who will capture my fancy, possessing long legs, sultry eyes, and a smile that hints of so much more. Then I will fall for her but hopefully she will be more of a friend like Dorrie rather than someone who not only tore my heart in two, but also took away the hand that fed me.
I walk in and meet the listing manager for my appointment. I am surprised to see that it is a young blonde-haired woman, who seems quite comely as she approaches me and reaches out her hand for me to shake before she says, “My name is Eva Drogan and you must be Mr. Worthington. I am sorry for your recent divorce. I will be showing you the property.”
Her hand lingers in mine and I know if I so desired, she would show me the flat and much more. But my heartbreak is too recent, and instead, I decide to forego temptation as I respond, “There will be no need for that, Ms. Drogan, the pictures you sent me were quite adequate and I have decided to take the penthouse.”
A vague look of disappointment crosses her features but she shakes it off quickly, knowing she has made a sizable commission on my purchase. She flashes her perfect white teeth as she grins, “I will have the parchments Owled to you immediately. When were you planning on moving in?”
“I am currently residing in the Leaky Cauldron but I would like to move in this weekend,” I reply with a small grin, hopefully not leading Ms. Drogan to believe that anything more than her abilities in her chosen field will be required.
“If you need help with anything more, Mr. Worthington, this is my business card and you can Firecall me personally at any time.” Ms. Drogan smiles before her tongue grazes over her top lip.
In the past, I would have found that particular gesture to be quite arousing, but since Aveline has left me, it is as if my normally bountiful need for the company of women has abandoned me and all I want is the solitude of my own space in order to plan my next move.
But now, I need to tell the only friend who has stood by my side through this ordeal about my decision. After Apparating to the Ministry Building, I make my way inside until I stand before Dorrie’s door. At first, I was reluctant to come up here because both Aveline and Charlie lurk somewhere in this office, although Aveline is probably still at my company trying to establish her control, but I have the right to be here also.
“Dorrie, may I have a moment of your time, please?” I announce quietly after she has summoned me inside.
“Whizzy, are you okay?” The concern in her eyes is uplifting as she stands up and crosses the room.
I walk in and she greets me with a hug before I smile. “Everything is fine but I just wanted to tell you that I will not be a bother anymore. I have rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron and have found a place to live.”
“You weren’t a bother, Whizzy. We’re your friends and you needed us.” Dorrie responds as she breaks our hug but her hand is still wrapped with mine.
“Well, I did not feel quite comfortable with Charlie and our recent issues, so it is best that I move along. But I have a fantastic place at the ‘Halverton’ and I will be moving there this weekend,” I grin as I pull my hand out of hers.
“Maybe I could help you move in, Whizzy?” Dorrie asks, smiling brightly.
I should tell her ‘no’ and have her return to the man she loves. Dorrie has given me so much already but I find that I am truly not prepared to be completely alone. Instead I nod and say, “That would be wonderful, Dorrie. I could always use a beautiful woman’s touch in any place I reside.”
“Then it’s a date,” she exclaims, taking my hand in hers again and squeezing it once excitedly.
“I owe you for this, Dorrie. So, I was thinking that maybe we could go to lunch together. I could get a table at the ‘Alladin’s Lamp’ and we could sit for a while and talk?” I say a bit too eagerly. I have grown lonely at times since Aveline left me and Dorrie has been my only outlet for company.
Dorrie hesitates for a moment, I am sure wondering if she will have time with the work piled on her desk and more importantly, how Charlie will react, but eventually, she replies, “That would be lovely, Whizzy. Let me get my robe.”
I find myself feeling a bit of happiness as she turns away. Tomorrow, I can plan out my life. Today, I just want the company on my only friend….
January 8th, 2006
|03:55 pm - "Willpower..."|
“Whizzy, wake up,” A soft hand shakes me while I try to bring myself out of a nightmare filled slumber. I open my eyes, unable to focus on the maroon haired angel standing before me. "Whiz, please, I need to go to my mother’s today but I have to make sure you are all right.”
“SSS… ok,” I croak, trying to remember where the hell I am as I shut my eyes again.
“You’ve been either drinking or comatose for the better part of two days. Charlie came home but he left for Fred’s with Little Bit this morning and I’m off for a while unless you tell me you need me.” A distinctly familiar female voice says harshly although with the drumming in my head, everything sounds horrifically cruel.
“Go on ahead,” I slur as I notice my mouth feels like a sewer while I open my jaw, trying to see if I can still produce saliva.
“I’m off then.” The horrendously cheery voice sounds again and I feel a pair of lips on my cheek before someone bounds out the bedroom door.
Opening my eyes, they focus just in time to see Dorrie making her way out the door. She has become my angel, both avenging and by her grace, saving as she has helped keep me alive since Aveline divorced me. I am eternally in debt to her again because I know that I have been difficult and she has gone beyond the limits of friendship to assist me in my time of need, especially considering how rottenly I behaved toward her during our failed marriage.
I wish now that I had taken the time to lavish her with my affection during our brief union, maybe things would be different and I would not have found myself trying to recover from the desolation that Aveline has left me in. Sadly though, Dorrie’s love once more belongs to Charlie Weasley and I am left alone to pick up the shattered remains of my heart.
I sit up cautiously, waiting for the room to stop spinning while I watch pink confetti drift gently down to the bed. Standing, I look down and see three bottles of Ogden’s Reserve sitting on the nightstand and now I understand the pounding in my head and my lack of memory over the past two days.
Groaning, I weave my way toward the kitchen, hoping to find a bit more alcohol there but as I turn the corner out of the Gods awful, nauseating bedroom Dorrie put me in, I find myself staring at a picture of Charlie in his Dragon Hunter’s uniform.
He looks resplendent wearing the outfit of a proud but antiquated Dragon Keepers and Hunters. But his kind is a relic, a dying breed, still living on tradition and memories rather than facing the fact that their pomp and circumstance is unneeded. Still, I have often supported their troop with large although anonymous donations even if I thought they have become unnecessary in our more modern age.
Glancing to the right, I see one of Charlie’s many Quidditch trophies, mementoes of his past glory from ten years ago and sadly enough, probably the last time in life he will climb that summit.
Still, as I observe the tiny Seeker circling the Snitch on the trophy, my mind wanders to days long ago when we were back at Hogwarts. My youth was spent in the company of the privileged, my father’s money making sure that my status in society was always among the elite. It was a given that I would become a Slytherin like my father or at the very least a Ravenclaw like my mother. Imagine my surprise when the Sorting Hat called out ‘Gryffindor’ almost immediately after the damnable object was placed on my head.
I could see the malevolent stares of those who I called friends until that point in time as they sat gathered mostly around the Slytherin table. I was now the enemy and I even asked Professor McGonagall to please let the hat sort me again but the foul woman would have none of it. As I walked slowly toward the Gryffindor table, I saw the boy who I would later call friend being held close by his older brother, Bill, as people looked at me in stunned silence although some of the older boys were kind enough to congratulate me weakly. But I still thought that surely my placement was wrong.
Foolishly, I thought that my status as the son of one of the wealthiest men in Great Britain would allow me certain privileges at Hogwarts. I would surely not have to cast my lot with the riff-raff from the House of Gryffindor. My friends would welcome me as one of their own, even if I did not wear the Green and Silver of my mates. But I was wrong and became a target for beatings as those who feasted at my father’s table now pummeled me on a daily basis.
I could not hide from them and I refused to be seen in such shoddy shape by the Gryffindors who I thought were so far beneath me socially. How terrible it would have been to allow them to mock me also, so I paid a seventh year Ravenclaw to heal me after my thrashings.
One day, a month into the term, two Slytherins who just the summer before had spent a week in Cannes with my family, took me and dragged me down to their Dungeon corridor. Here, the beginnings of an epic pounding were set into motion. I knew better by now than to cry out or make a sound because it would only intensify their brutality and my only hope was that they would not find the coins I had on me to pay for my healing.
Just as I felt someone pull my hair up and deliver a stinging slap to my cheek, I heard a shout of despair and suddenly the two boys were off of me. I looked over and saw a flash of ginger hair and a fist fly until it connected solidly with one of my abductor’s jaw. A small white object landed in my lap and I watched it, fascinated as I realized it was a tooth that just flew out of the Slytherin boy’s mouth. The other Slytherin went to attack my savior from behind and I lashed out with my leg, tripping him while I saw the boy in the red and gold tie, turn and cuff my foul attacker across the ear.
Both of the Slytherins were down, knocked cold and the next thing I noticed was a small hand in my field of vision. I reached up and took it automatically; taking note that this hand was much rougher than a hand should be for someone so young. I stared into the now sweaty, grinning face of Charlie Weasley as he said, “Everything will be all right, Randall.”
It was at that moment, I became beholden to Charlie and throughout our school days, it seemed as if he had placed a spell on me and I found myself accepting first the Gryffindor mantras of pride, honor, and courage that seemed true of all members of this house. I accepted friends who during just the summer before, I would not have allowed within ten kilometers of my home and I was happy being so very…common.
Still, it was Charlie who I began to emulate and although I maintained my bearing and was able to establish myself within the realms of the school, I never seemed to be able to hold a candle to the second Weasley child. He ambled his way through school, never the brightest…laughably enough, not even the brightest of his own family at the school. But he was athletic and popular, his easy going disposition attracting boys and girls alike. In particular, he was able to catch the attention of one Nymphadora Tonks, a Ravenclaw in our year, who I was so very close to asking out but of course, as it always seemed to happen, she fell for Charlie.
One of my most haunting moments at school was the night during sixth year when a loud knock sounded on the Gryffindor portal. I answered the summons and was pleased to find Dorrie there, a look of flushed arousal on her features. Yet, it was not me she wanted, it was Charlie and when she barged past me and took his hand, literally dragging him out of the portal, I knew that deep inside that I would always be second in her heart to Charlie.
Grimacing, I close my eyes tightly as I think of the other woman in my life who I know would have chosen Charlie over me if given the chance. My former wife who threw me over for my empire at the first opportunity she could find. It pains me even more now to think of her pleasuring herself to Charlie’s memory at my bidding, while I watched her enraptured.
Now, I know what she thought about while we made love. It was always his hands gliding over my Avie’s body, his lips touching hers, her fingers finding purchase on his hardness as she guided it into her waiting embrace. It was Charlie on her mind, his name in her thoughts when she found her pleasure and I was just a vessel for her to use on the physical plane while her mind drifted away to a time when she and Charlie shared a brief moment in time together.
Still, as I make my way to the cabinets in the simple kitchen in the flat that Dorrie and Charlie share, I wonder why any woman of standing would debase herself with him. He is nothing more than a drunken, broken man whose best days are long past him. Even looking at him, you can see that he is weathered, his features beginning to become ravaged by the elements he is exposed to in his chosen career and his lifestyle of being an alcoholic. Sadly, women still find something intriguing about Charlie Weasley and I will never understand what they see in him. Yet, the two women I have loved in life have both found passion in his arms before I touched them and I find myself cringing at the thought of him with Dorrie now and that time with Aveline so long ago.
I search the cabinets and am frustrated when I do not find a single drop of alcohol in this pink abomination of a flat. Charlie could not be without his bottles, his comfort as he tries to make it through his pathetic life. He needs his alcohol much as another person needs air to breathe. It is part of him since Hogwarts much like the uniform he has chosen to wear.
“I don’t keep booze around anymore, Whizzy,” A voice calls out from behind me. I turn to see Charlie standing near the entrance before he continues, “Maybe it’s time you slowed down and faced life.”
“You are going to tell me to face life? You spent ten years in a bottle, wasting away over Dorrie and now, you question my drinking habits. You were probably drunk when you fucked Aveline.” I scoff, closing the cabinet and stepping toward the bedroom in which I have been placed.
“Aveline and I were a long time ago, Whizzy. We were one weekend when we both needed to find someone and we happened to find each other. I didn’t see her again until I returned home.” Charlie steps back as I move near him to allow me passage.
“So, you treated my wife as your personal fuck toy, Charlie? You had your way with her and then left. But that has always been your way…best to run than face your problems. That is how I got Dorrie, you know? You ran away and she finally got tired of waiting for you.” Snarling, I do not care if he hits me. Just his mere presence abhors me and I want nothing more than to never see him again.
“Aveline and I didn’t stay in touch because I did go away and that was my fault but I didn’t treat her like my fuck toy.” Charlie replies stepping close to me but for once, I do not budge. I cannot let him best me in this battle of wills. He sighs as he moves away, “Tonks was my fault also. I should have come back and told her how I felt but I couldn’t, so you and Lupin both became a part of her life. I’m not jealous of that fact, because it was my choice and she needed someone but I love her now and she loves me.”
“Well, that’s just fine. But you have never been one for long term commitments, Charlie, so I wonder how long this will last.” I respond, locking eyes with him, returning his steely gaze.
He sighs while he walks toward the front door, “I hope a lifetime but I think it’s best I leave now. I’m going to pick up Bit at Zonko’s and go find a place to sit before either of us does something we will regret. Tell Tonks that I checked up on you and I’ll be home for dinner.”
He walks out and I find myself grinning wickedly because for once, I have won a battle of wills with Charlie Weasley…
January 6th, 2006
|03:55 pm - "During the Fall..."|
“Surely you jest, Aveline. We are happily married,” I grin as the bound parchment is placed in my hand. My eyes glance over at Dorrie, waiting for her to reveal the joke but her face is stoic before I look at the burly Auror who has escorted the two women who I have loved in my life.
I look at Aveline, searching for some type of indication that this is all a farce but she continues to glare at me malevolently while I open the letter and begin to read,
This letter is to inform you that a request to begin divorce proceedings was filed with our office on December 23rd in the name of Aveline Rousseau. The formal documents have been filed in the High Wizard Court of London and the case should be on docket on January 5, 2002. Your divorce will be finalized on that day. Under British Magical Law, Ms. Rousseau is entitled to half of your earnings, your properties, and your investments.
This does include the Cleansweep Broom Company and all its subsidiaries excluding that of the Mercury Broom Company which will go into holdership under Mr. Devlin Whitehorn. Please be notified that as of the time of this filing, Cleansweep will now transfer into the name of Aveline Rousseau due to the four percent gift along with her share of the company as a result of your divorce… “
The rest of the words seem to run together as I stare at the parchment before I bring my eyes up again and lock them with Aveline’s cold brown orbs as I plead, “Aveline, please tell me this is a joke. You are my wife. I love you with all my heart.”
I do not care who is in the room as I drop the parchment to the floor and begin to round the desk. The unknown Auror stands in front of me, his large hand in the middle of my chest as I whip my head around to gaze at Dorrie who looks like she is in disbelief over the whole affair, “Please, Dorrie, tell me this is an elaborate hoax that you two have dreamed up.”
My eyes move again, scanning everyone in the room. It seems so surreal that this is happening and for a moment, I think that I am going to open my eyes and this horrific nightmare will be over.
Yet, my eyes do not open and even when I blink, everything is still in the same place and I do not wake up in the arms of my Aveline, her soft words comforting me as I breathe deeply, after I have had a nightmare that I have lost her.
I find myself staring at the woman in front of me. This is not my Aveline. My Aveline is beautiful, warm, inviting , her eyes smoldering even in the dimmest candle light. My Aveline is vibrant, caring, completely in love with me. This woman I see before me has the same visage as my Aveline but she is cold and sends a searing pain through my chest when I look upon her. This woman is calculating, making me fall completely in love with her until I threw caution to the wind. This woman has shattered my heart, my very existence.
“AVELINE, AVIE…PLEASE…” I cry out and try to maneuver around the wide shouldered Auror in front of me again but he stops my every turn, toying with me as I sink further into despair.
My mind reels. If I could just touch her, she will remember me and this creature that possesses my Aveline will be gone. If I hug her, she will see me for who I am and the thick ice which surrounds her heart will melt and if I kiss her, but one kiss on my Aveline’s soft lips and she will fall in love with me again…she will be mine.
“This is not a joke, Randall. I would like you to leave my office until you are more reasonable. I have business to conduct.” Aveline says and I listen for some glimmer of softness in the harsh tone of her voice but sadly, I find none.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!” I scream, my rage now overcoming me as the Auror holding me back goes flying. I step toward my Aveline and when I put my arms around her, for a brief second, I feel her melt into me but just as quickly, she flinches away, as I cry out in desperation, “Please, Avie, take the company. It is you, it has always been about you…nothing else matters to me anymore…”
I am a man possessed as I plead with Aveline but she pushes me away and I find myself thrown into rough hands which hurl me onto the ground. An arm crosses the back of my neck and I find I am unable to breathe as a grey mist forms over my eyes.
“Stop it, you fuck,” a hazy voice calls out and suddenly I am gasping for air as the unrelenting pressure upon my neck gives way. My eyes focus as Dorrie kicks the Auror holding me down again.
Yet, I turn my head toward Aveline as she stands there coolly observing the three of us before she says simply, “Auror Tonks cease and desist.”
Dorrie savagely kicks the other Auror again before she turns to Avie, fire in her eyes, “Auror Boykins actions were completely out of line, Auror Rousseau. He was endangering a private citizen’s life. I was completely within my rights.”
“You are correct, Auror Tonks and Auror Boykins will be disciplined but now, I will need him to escort, Mr. Worthington outside.”
Boykins stands, gripping his side, a look of cruel malice on his face as I stare at him while I bring my body upright. He reaches for my arm but I tear it out of his grasp as I say, “I can leave my own office by myself.”
He mutters something unintelligible but I know he watches me as I stand next to Aveline and whisper quietly, “I love you still…”
A small tear forms in the corner of my eye as I look at her once more before I march out of my former office and away from the woman I love.
January 5th, 2006
|03:41 pm - "Last Supper..."|
“Dorrie, I am trapped in the office under a mound of paperwork.” I moan into the fireplace as I speak with my ex-wife. I had asked Dorrie earlier today to meet me for dinner but since then I have been involved in an issue involving missing shipments of Mercury Fire brooms to Mexico. “I promise I will make it up to you. Maybe we can go to the ‘Masthead’. You love their fish and chips.”
I shudder at the thought of Dorrie’s eating preferences. Smiling, I continue, “I would love to see you, Dorrie but business will keep me here. But I am starving.”
“Charlie’s gone, Whizzy, and I’m alone, so I was looking forward to grabbing a bite with you. Maybe I could bring you something?” She replies, twirling her pink hair with her fingers.
“Well, you could bring me some beef and broccoli from the ‘Red Dragon’,” I ask sheepishly. I am starving and just the thought of food makes my stomach growl.
“I guess I could do that, Whizzy. I owe you a meal anyways but you provide the drink,” she responds with a smile before she winks at me and I pull my head out of the fire.
Soon, I find myself lost in work again. It is just not the same though. My mind wanders constantly and I wonder what I would be doing now if Aveline were here. I would surely not be trying to decipher shipping invoices in Spanish and English which seem to be turning into a grand mystery that I will never be able to solve.
“Whizzy?” Dorrie’s voice startles me and I jump slightly when I hear her. She holds up two bags of ‘take away’ and when the delicious aroma hits me, my mouth begins to salivate.
She makes her way over and I gesture to the rug in front of the fire. No reason to get water stains on my antique mahogany desk Dorrie puts the food down as I go to the bookshelf and wave my wand until several books disappear revealing a small icebox and several glasses. I take hold of a bottle of chilled wine, Caymus Select 1979, and two glasses before I sit next to Dorrie while we kick off our shoes.
“So how are things with you and Aveline, Whizzy?” Dorrie asks while I pour us each a glass of wine.
“Why, we’re in love, dear Dorrie,” I respond with a smile, one that I have not been able to wipe off my face much when my thoughts stray back to my Avie. I just cannot seem to help feeling a general sense of giddiness when it comes to my love.
“You are grinning like a Krup with two peckers, Whizzy,” Dorries smirks while she picks up her box of shrimp fried rice. She takes a bite and chews thoughtfully before saying, “I’m glad you two have each other, Whiz. You seem to be good for one another. I may not like her personally but Aveline has made you happy and that is what counts. "
"I would say you have the same joy in your life, Dorrie," I reply begrudgingly as it seems that every thought of Charlie Weasley leads me to remembering him on that fateful weekend with my Aveline, but this is Dorrie and I want her to be as happy with her life as I am with mine. We sit quietly in front of the fire for a few minutes, silently eating before I announce, "Aveline has agreed to have my child."
Dorrie nearly chokes on her wine before she responds, "A child! Whizzy, you never wanted children. You said it would be too much responsibility for someone as busy as you."
"If I remember correctly, Ms. Tonks, that was you that never wanted children. I never broached the subject. I was never home enough," I reply wistfully, regretting another one of the many injustices I performed while married to Dorrie. My union with Aveline has shown me what a bastard I was with Dorrie...really, there is no other way to describe my appaling behavior.
"It's okay, Whizzy. Let's just stay in the present tonight and talk about our new...or old loves," Dorrie smiles brightly and I find myself grinning at how easily she can make me forget about my worries.
As we finish our meal, we each wrap ourselves in singing the praises of our loved ones and I find myself easily falling into this mostly innane type of conversation that I have never had time for in the past, but now with Aveline, I seem to be reveling in each giddy tale I tell about us.
When I am one bite away from bursting the button on my trousers, I look at Dorrie as she sits across from me, her face radiant in the firelight before I ask curiously, "You always have your hair as brown now, Dorrie. Is there a reason for this?"
"I don't feel the need to change all the time with Charlie," Dorrie replies truthfully and again I am ashamed. It was more than once that I asked her to look a certain way to impress a client or acquaintance and now I feel horrible for even thinking of asking her to change. As I continue to ponder, Dorrie puts her hand on my knee and cries out. "But for you, Whizzy, I'll do this."
She squinches her face up and in the next moment she has gaudy shoulder length violet hair. She shakes her head back and forth as I laugh sharply, "Now that is interesting, my dear."
"Only for you, Whizzy. A special color I saved just for you," Dorrie laughs uproarishly as she tosses me a fortune cookie.
She opens it and her eyes go wide in mock horror. I watch her curiously for a moment before I say, "Here, let me have it, woman."
Reaching out, I grab the fortune from her hand and immediately, Dorrie tackles me, wiping her hands all over me, giggling, "I've got to get those fortune germs off of me!!"
I laugh as I roll over and when Dorrie finally lies next to me, I read, 'You and your loved one will have a blessed and fertile life together this upcoming year.'
I place the small piece of parchment in my pocket as I think that a fortune could never have been more right.
|03:28 pm - "Dinner Engagement..."|
Sitting at my desk, I find my mind wandering again. I have not been able to concentrate since Aveline left and she is foremost in my mind once more. The parchment has been piled into small mountains in front of me and all I can do is wonder what she is doing right now. Strange to consider that many times, I lost myself in work when I was with Dorrie but with Aveline, I cannot seem to begin to do my job when she is gone.
All I can think about is that Aveline has left for France and I miss her already. She has become my life and I have found that I do not want to spend time with anyone else. Of course, there is Dorrie and she is wonderful, more my friend now than ever in our marriage. I have come to rely on her as a confidant in many situations. But there is an inherent sense of competition between Aveline and Dorrie and when I interact with Dorrie, I realize that I am walking a fine line with Aveline.
It is times like this that I miss Charlie and his friendly demeanor. He has never been one for competition unless it was on the Quidditch Pitch and I could always count on him for encouragement or to just be a friendly ear. Maybe that was it. He would listen to my dreams, my hopes, my fears, my failures and my conquests without offering a solution or a criticism. He would just listen.
But that was before I found out that he withheld information about the woman I love from me. I know that I should almost be appreciative that it was Charlie who was Aveline’s most unforgettable lover. He is in love with Dorrie and there is one thing about Charlie to admire…he is as faithful as an old dog when it comes to someone he loves. Yet, to know that once more he has had his hands, his body, his lips on a woman I love infuriates me. I did not expect Aveline to be a blushing virgin when we married but to be one of Charlie Weasley’s conquests, even if it was two years ago, just does not sit right.
It seems that I have always been in competition with Charlie, from the time we were first at Hogwarts. I knew I was not the athlete he was at Hogwarts and he did not care much for school, so the competition which we participated in was over girls from the time we began to notice them. But it seemed to always be only me involved in our competition. When I lost my virginity at the tender age of fourteen to the beautiful, Mary Bateman, Charlie patted me on the shoulder, happy that I had ‘done the deed’, but there was not a hint of jealousy in his demeanor. Then two years later, he lost his virginity to Dorrie and he did not even deign me important enough to tell. Instead, I had to find out from Dorrie when we were married.
Now, it is the same way with Aveline. But this time he had the opportunity to tell me but chose to keep quiet and in his silence, he humiliated me. I watched my wife masturbate to thoughts of him, providing me with visual evidence of a faceless soul. But now, the man rutting on top of my wife when those thoughts come to my mind is Charlie Weasley.
Yet, that is not all. Aveline’s descriptions were so vivid that they are permanently etched into my mind as if I was there observing their every move. I still do not understand why Aveline has chosen that moment to share with me, knowing full well my past friendship with Charlie. I realize that I asked for her most pleasurable sexual experience, but is her sex life so dull that she chose him? Maybe out of spite, she chose Charlie because of the base act I asked her to perform, but surely she embellished some of those tales. As I watched her brown eyes glazed with lust, it was Charlie who was having sex with her throughout that one weekend.
It does not matter though, the fact remains that Charlie did not reveal to me his indiscretion and instead chose to hide behind the hope that I would not find out, but he does not realize that I always do eventually learn the truth. But he does not care, he would rather have his secrets and perhaps laugh silently at others when he has information they do not.
Then there is Aveline. I love her with all my heart but she should not have done this to me and to choose to tell me when I was trying to reestablish a relationship with Charlie was poorly timed. It was almost as if she did not want Charlie and me to form a friendship again although I do not understand, her relationship with Charlie is one of master and servant, not friends and lovers.
Standing, I begin to amble around the office, stopping to gaze out the large window that runs the length of one wall. I have given up many things to be with Aveline, friends and family included….just to love her. But that is it, I willingly sacrifice those things for the woman I love, just to hear those three words she finally said on a fateful night in her parent’s abandoned home.
I have been beyond joy and I have felt the indescribable love of my Aveline, but there are times that I need someone to speak to and fortunately…or unfortunately, I have my ex-wife. Dorrie has been my best friend for years and I am a gregarious individual, so there are times when I need someone to just listen to me. I want nothing more than to tell someone that Aveline has agreed to have my child…to announce my love of her to the world, but here I am in my spacious office suite with a pair of my gray twill trousers to speak to intimately.
Sighing, I make my way to my desk and pick up a quill before I jot a quick note:
If you are not busy, would you like to have dinner with me tonight ? I am in the mood for Chinese and we could Apparate over to the Monkey’s Fist for a bite. If you have plans, I understand, but Aveline is out of town for the next few days, so I thought dinner would be nice and give us a chance to catch up on holiday news. Please owl your return, and then we can set up details.
Standing, I roll the parchment and band it before I ready myself to call Sally. But right before I press the call button, I decide that a bit of exercise might do me some good, so instead walk out of the door of my office and make my way to the Owlery.
December 27th, 2005
|03:27 pm - One Last Gift|
“Aveline, wake up,” I say urgently. I want to kick myself. I became so lost in the joy of spending Christmas with my wife that I forgot to give her the one gift that truly mattered. I had spent Christmas showering her with constant affection and baubles and trinkets that did not matter. But the one thing that I slaved over for a good portion of the past week was left in my office in my haste to spend the holiday weekend with Aveline.
So, when I finally realized what I had forgotten, I slipped out of bed, cast a quick silencing charm and dressed before running down to my office and retrieving her final gift. When I returned upstairs, I sighed in relief that she was still asleep, unaware of my quick escape and return. Once I got back into bed, I put her gift on the nightstand and picked up my wand to remove the silencing charm before I woke her up.
“Whizzy, stop…I don’t want to fool around. I have work early in the morning and we’ve been like rabbits over the weekend,” Aveline groans as she rolls away from me. She does look lovely and I find myself beginning to stir.
She looks so beautiful in the flicker of the one dim candle we leave burning at night. I can see where Charlie might find her irresistible, intoxicating but he should have told me about their tryst. He knew that I was falling madly in love with this woman and he meant to withhold this information from me, allowing me to be teased, taunted, and tormented by his memory even if he did not know about mine and Aveline’s arrangement to discuss previous sexual exploits. I have always told him everything but he has kept his life in the shadows, even preferring to run away rather than face life and its problems.
I shift against Aveline after I put my wand on the stand, leaning my body over her. “Aveline, love, please, I want to give you a gift.”
“Gifts can wait until the morning, Whizzy. I need to sleep now because I have to be at work early,” She curls herself up tightly away from my body.
I kiss her earlobe causing her to shiver just a bit before I say softly, “Please wake up, it would mean the world to me.”
“Gods, Randall, you are infuriating but I’m awake now!” Aveline sits up in the bed, her eyes full of fire, her hair tousled and all I can do is smile at my lovely wife.
“Thank you, Aveline. I promise it will be worth it,” I try to press my lips against her cheek but Aveline pulls away and I can see her anger rising. So I reach over to the bench and take hold of a small, plainly wrapped package.
“I don’t need any more jewelry, Randall,” Aveline grabs it out of my hand, still upset by the abruptness of her awakening. I take my wand and light several lanterns in the room as she opens my gift.
Although Aveline loved the present I gave her, I now see that she was disappointed that I had put little effort into finding the expensive but seemingly meaningless piece of jewelry.
But we were soon wrapped up in the passion of each other and in my lust filled haze, I forgot the present I knew would mean the most to her.
“What is it? It is us, Whizzy.” Aveline gazes at the small picture frame in wonder. Her eyes lock on the photo of us in the frame.
After staring at the picture for several moments, even turning the frame over in her hand, she finally looks at me, a small smile on her face as she continues, “How did you do this, Whizzy? This is from our marriage but we chose not to have pictures done. Did your photographer do this? What type of magic did you use?”
I put my arm around my wife bringing her close to me as I lean on the headboard. I find myself staring at the photo also. But as I look at it, I see an impetuous couple that married each other to prove a point and then fell completely in love. I see two people who defied the odds and are now truly enjoying wedded bliss with each other…and hopefully one day, our children. When Aveline lays her head on my chest, I run my fingers through her jet black hair as I say, “There is no magic, Aveline. I simply got hold of one of those phone thingies and called the chapel we were married in and asked if by chance they took any photos of us.”
“When they said there were no pictures, a brilliant idea came to my mind. I remembered an Asian bloke at the chapel who was getting married too. Do you remember him and the older girl with the awful blue mascara he was marrying?” I continue rambling until Aveline shakes her head at my last question. I look at her in surprise before I remember that she did look a bit shocked at our wedding, “Well, no matter then. I just recalled that he was constantly taking our picture, calling us a ‘beautiful couple’ and he was right, we were lovely.”
I grin as Aveline looks up at me. She kisses me on the cheek before I begin again, “I coerced the young bloke working there to give me the name of man and after he looked in the guest book, he told me it was a Mr. Lee and Ms. Bubbles from a place called Columbus, Ohio. After that, it was a simple matter. Well, not so simple matter. It seems like Lee is a popular name in the colonies…almost 300 in Columbus alone. But I am rich, so I went out and bought more cellophones and had my staff use them to call each one until we found the right Mr. Lee.”
Aveline’s eyes begin to get moist as she says, “You went through all that for me…for this?”
“Of course. I love you.” I pull my head back in surprise as she asks her question. I take the picture from her hand and smile, “I had one of my assistants Portkey over to America to pick the pictures up. I think I gave the Lee’s a thousand of their American money for the picture. Then I framed them and that took a bloody long time. I also have a photo album being made…I’m just sorry the picture does not move but it was a Muggle...”
Aveline’s mouth covers mine and I find myself melting under her kiss. When she pulls away, I see the desire in her eyes and grin at her sheepishly, “Well, you can go back to bed now. I am sorry, I woke you.”
I hand her back the picture and begin to nuzzle into bed when I feel Aveline’s hand run down my abdomen as she captures my lips in a bruising kiss. When Avie pulls away, she takes hold of my growing arousal as I continue, “I thought you had to work, Auror Rousseau?”
Her eyes tell a story of future seduction as she brushes her lips by my ear and whispers, “I told you, my last name is Worthington and I think the Force can survive without me for one more day…
December 20th, 2005
|03:23 pm - Shopping with Sally|
My joyous holiday mood turns somewhat sour as my irascible, long time assistant, Sally Gardens continues to harass me about my request to shop for Aveline, “Yes, Sally, I understand that it has been your duty to shop for the Worthington men for the past one thousand years but this year I would like to buy my wife her present.”
“Well, I never, Mr. Worthington,” Sally’s chin lifts in the air as she crosses her arms.
“Never, Sally?” I smile as she blushes a bright red. But truth be hold, it has been a pleasure to have her back at work, especially after the Lola near disaster. I smile as I round the desk and put my arm around her, “I am sorry, Sally but I want to buy something special for my wife. I just do not know what it is yet.”
“This is highly irregular, Mr. Worthington. Your father only bought your mother a present on rare occasions. He did not have time for such trivial matters and I always bought your presents for the ex-Mrs. Worthington.” Sally looks highly exasperated and I hope I am not pushing her too far. After all, she was in the hospital for a few weeks and Sally is a creature of habit, so this must be hard for her to swallow.
But this is my choice and I want to buy Aveline something special. Yet, arguing with Sally will not get anything accomplished, so instead I use my skills as a negotiator as I offer, “I insist that I will buy her presents, Sally but as a compromise, I would like you to go with me to act as a guiding hand. Is that fair?”
Sally nods in relief and we walk over to my private Apparation point after we put on our coats and leave our robes since we will be venturing into Muggle London. After we arrive in Diagon Alley, we quickly make our way through the familiar brick wall and into the city.
We stroll quickly along the street and Sally immediately finds her bearing and begins to walk with a purpose down the street to a location that she is only privy to now. We walk for several blocks taking a few odd turns and I find that I am completely lost until we arrive a small, absolutely unremarkable abandoned building. Sally sees my questioning look as she begins to tap out the opening charm on the front door and she says, “This building contains ‘Phoenix’s Wonders’, the most exclusive Wizarding jewelers in London. It also has several more shops but only the wealthy are allowed in here. Others cannot even afford the air in here.”
“We could have gone to Hunington’s, Sally. The place has some fine jewelry,” I proclaim as the small portal opens for us to walk through.
Sally shakes her head sadly and begins to tsk me before she sighs, “I will never understand men, especially you Worthington’s.”
“It is not as if I was going to purchase her radish earrings or some other fruit or vegetable bauble,” I pronounce as we walk into the ‘Phoenix’s Wonders’. But I know she is right when we walk in the store. The jewelry here is magnificent and worthy of my lovely wife.
“One year, I listened to your father when he wanted to go purchase your mother a gift,” I listen in rapt attention as Sally tells a story about my late father. Sally gathers herself and begins to walk to the end counter. We look at several pieces and none I see seem to capture my eye as Sally continues, “It seems that your father did not follow my advice about where to shop and ended up in a seedier area of London. He ended up purchasing a ‘neck massager’ for your mother from an adult entertainment store. It was a beautiful purple monstrosity that tilted its head back and forth and hummed…your mother never let him live that down.”
“That is my father, Sally. I took the time to learn about the finer things in life.” I reply haughtily, a bit perturbed that Sally would think so little of me. I am about to continue my rebuke when a glint of a verdant green catches my eye. When I look over, I know that I have found Aveline’s present. I turn to Sally and point eagerly to the emerald necklace in the case.
“You have done well, Mr. Worthington. Mrs. Worthington will be impressed.” Sally says calmly as if talking to a child. She motions to the ever present clerk who gladly begins to write up the sale.
Still, when I look at Sally, there is something wrong with this gift. It seems that I have again found the most expensive item in the store and decided to purchase it. Although the necklace is beautiful, it does not express what I want to say to my love. Sally notices my dismay and asks, “Is there anything wrong, Mr. Worthington? Is the necklace not satisfactory for Mrs. Worthington? Perhaps a set of matching earrings would help?”
“That is not it, Sally. The necklace is fine but it feels hollow. It is beautiful but I just do not feel as if it is from my heart.” I reply as I lean against the counter before the clerk hands me a chit which I sign absentmindedly.
“Mr. Worthington, if I may be honest here, you are correct. That necklace, while it is beautiful, is coming from your wallet. Maybe it is because there is no effort in purchasing it, no ownership for you…and that is what bothers you.” Sally says while the clerk looks at us in disbelief. He hands us our bag and hurries us out of the store before I can change my mind. When we are outside, Sally touches my shoulder and says, “I believe Mr. Worthington that you need to invest some of yourself in your wife’s gift. She would probably love a simple present that you spent your time and energy on rather than a dozen of these lovely necklaces.”
We walk down the street a little ways before I stop dead in my tracks. Sally looks at me before I announce, “I think I have it, Sally, but I will need your help to locate everything. First, we have to find the nearest…”
Sally and I continue down the street, our heads nearly touching as she listens to me eagerly while I detail my plan…
December 16th, 2005
|03:22 pm - "At the Minister's Gathering..."|
“Your wife is a beautiful woman, Randall. You have it all…money, looks, and now Auror Rousseau,” Archibald Coogan, Deputy Minister of the Ministry of Magic comments while watching my wife approach us.
“I am a lucky man, Arch. Even more so since Aveline came into my life,” I respond while looking at the various attendees of the Prime Minister’s Christmas Ball. Slapping Arch on the shoulder, I chuckle, “Judging from the partygoers staring at her, I would guess there are many who judge me to be a lucky man.”
Arch laughs but his eyes remain fixed upon my wife as she walks toward us. I turn to stare at the woman who loves me and smile in appreciation of her heavenly form. But what others do not understand is that this lovely woman who captures their very souls with a delicate smirk will never be theirs. She loves me and I will be the last man who will every feel her naked form against mine, writhing in pleasure below me.
“Hello Minister, I’m very glad to see you,” Aveline smiles widely and I realize that not only is she beautiful but she can rival even Dorrie with her ability to charm a room when she wants. She turns and tilts her glass of wine toward me in greeting and I grin like a bloody fool.
I glance at Arch when he does not respond and his eyes seem fixated on Aveline, so I tap him on the back, “Arch, you are staring, my friend. Must be some important Ministry issue that diverted you, right?”
I laugh heartily while he shakes his head. After a brief second he recovers, “I’m sorry. Yes that’s it, Ministry business. We’re having some serious issues with our trade agreement with Bulgaria.”
“Well, Archie, old boy, this is a festive occasion. There is a time and place for business.” I slap Arch on the back and he stumbles forward, almost tumbling into my lovely wife.
Aveline jumps back gracefully but Archie trips again, falling into her. His hands reach out to brace himself, one hand landing near her breast while the other knocks into her wine glass. Aveline gasps as the wine spills down the front of her black robes.
“I’m so sorry, Auror Rousseau,” Archie apologizes profusely while he tries to wipe the wine from the front of my wife’s dress robes.
“Stop it, Minister. I can take care of this. Excuse me.” Aveline stomps off toward the loo as Archie continues to apologize.
“She will be fine, Archie. My Aveline is a fiery one.” I chuckle while Archie inspects his own robes.
He shakes his head before he looks at me, “I’m sorry, Randall, I’ve got a bit of a stain. I’m headed to the loo also.”
Arch nearly sprints toward the back halls and I am left alone. I wait for several long moments, speaking to a few people but I really would like my wife by my side again. I am finding that even a few moments away from Aveline is almost too much to bear.
Finally, I decide to make my way to the washroom and after fighting my way through the crowd, I find myself standing in front of the ladies room. Raising my hand to knock on the door, I pause when I hear the high pitched voice of Archie Coogan as he says in a grating tone, “I’ve wanted you forever and now I’m going to have you.”
Smiling, I am amazed that someone as fat and ugly and I thought married as Coogan would be able to find himself a woman but it is the holidays and I am sure there is a charitable soul out there for every need. In his haste to be with his mystery woman, Arch seems to have forgotten to put a silencing charm on the door and I feel like a child doing something naughty standing here listening to him.
I find myself compelled to eavesdrop and I lean closer as Coogan rasps excitedly, “Finally, so very beautiful and now mine…Aveline.”
At the mention of my wife’s name, my jaw drops to the floor and I reach for the doorknob, twisting to no avail. It seems that Arch has not forgotten to put a locking spell on the door. Suddenly I cannot hear any sound and I know that Coogan has put a silencing charm in place.
My eyes search frantically for a way into the washroom and when I look down, I see my entrance near the floorboard. The Ministry Building uses wall ducts to heat the building and I move to the one nearest the woman’s loo and kick it several times until it comes free. Bending over, I crawl in and take a left until I am at the grate to the washroom.
I look in horror as I see Aveline completely petrified, a tie shoved in her mouth while her robes are on the floor and her dress open. Coogan’s rough fingers play over her brassiere clad breasts slowly as if savoring every moment. Aveline’s eyes still burn and I can see her spirit even though Coogan has thought to take her in such a callous manner.
Lying back, my feet lash out at the grate and I kick it once before the metal front goes flying, clattering against the floor near Arch’s feet. I quickly reverse myself and pop out of the vent before smiling sinisterly at Coogan. He turns to face me, trying to pull his wand out from his robe pocket but in two strides, I am on him. My fist connects solidly with both his chins while I bring my knee up into his groin. Spittle flies from my mouth as I yell, “You son-of-a-bitch, touching my wife. I will fucking kill YOU!”
I kick him in the ribs while he is on the ground and Arch groans. When I pull my wand, a look of fear crosses Coogan’s features but a muffled sound distracts me. I turn and take a step over to Aveline before I remove her gag and reverse the immobilization charm before I ask, "What happened, Aveline?"
She opens her jaw and closes it before she says, “The pig surprised me from behind but you came before he could do anything. But don't kill him, Randall. I don’t even think it’s worth the trouble to bring charges against him.”
“I would never kill, Aveline but I would hurt him gravely.” I respond evenly while Aveline straightens herself. She puts her hand on my wand, gently forcing me to lower it.
I nod my agreement to her request as I notice Coogan standing shakily out of the corner of my eye. Before he can think of pulling his wand, I aim mine squarely at his chest as I ask, “Why did you feel the need to touch Aveline, Archie?”
“She made me this way, Randall. Your wife tempted me, seduced me to move up in the Auror Force.” He pleads as his hands drop to his side, his palms face up.
“That is rubbish, Arch. Aveline worked hard to get promoted to her current position.” I reply while reaching into his front robe pocket and taking his wand. After I hand the wand to Aveline, I say curtly, “I am not going to hurt you, Arch, because my wife is forgiving and she does not want you to go to Azkaban but I am going to make sure that you are not in your current position by this time tomorrow.”
I grab Coogan by the robes and push him out of the loo while Aveline follows. When we enter the main hall, the party is still in full swing but I easily find Minister Tiberius Ogden and his entourage just a few steps from the back wall, obviously trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
When we push our way to Ogden, Coogan looks more confident but the small smirk that is on his face disappears when he notices how friendly Ogden and I have become. Ogden looks at us in surprise when I throw Arch in front of him and say angrily, “A moment, Tiberius.”
Ogden steps around Arch, a look of confusion on his face as he moves near me. Leaning over, I say evenly, “I am going to get straight to the point, Tiberius. I want Coogan fired from his position immediately.”
What brought this on, Randall?” Ogden arches an eyebrow while motions for his entourage to step away from him.
He crosses his arms as I answer, “He attempted to assault my wife but I do not want him sent to Azkaban. I would prefer if he were removed from his post here and sent far away forever."
I can tell by his expression that Ogden does not agree with my conclusion about Coogan's fate, so I add, "If not, I will be forced to withdraw certain large anonymous donations to your campaign fund for next year.”
“Are you bribing me, Mr. Worthington?” Ogden scowls as he crosses his arms.
“Well, let me make myself clearer. I will withdraw my backing of your campaign, take away all my money which I am sure fills most of your coffers and then I will run for Minister of Magic myself.” I reply calmly, trying to convey a look of deadly earnest. I glare at him for a few moments before I say, “And that is not a bribe, that is a promise.”
Ogden does not back down, instead he smirks as he replies, “Do you think you can win, Worthington?”
I smile predatorily before I say, “My face sold over a million brooms this past year. I am sure it can carry me to victory in this race. Would you like to take the chance in finding out?”
Ogden pauses for a moment, contemplating my promise before he sighs and calls over one of his entourage. After a few whispered words, he turns to Coogan who has remained motionless while we argued over his fate, “Archibald Coogan, as your Minister of Magic, I am removing you from the position of Deputy Minister effective immediately. You will be transferred to our embassy in Peru and serve the rest of your term there and afterwards you will retire but not return to England ever.”
“But my family…” Coogan stammers, holding his hands in front of him.
“They will go with you or they may stay. That is there choice.” Ogden responds before he nods at two of his bodyguards and gives them instructions for Coogan's departure. Coogan is soon led away from the gathering. After he is gone, Ogden turns to me, “Are you satisfied, Worthington?”
“Well, Coogan is gone, so I am satisfied,” I reply with a jaunty grin. I take Aveline’s hand and we begin to walk away before I turn my head, “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Minister Ogden.”
Ogden scowls before we resume walking out of the hall. I lean over to Aveline as we gather our coats and whisper, “Are you all right, Aveline?”
She looks at me tiredly and sighs before she hugs me, “I’m always all right when I’m with you, Whizzy…”
December 11th, 2005
|03:20 pm - "Being Spontaneous..." NC 17 for Adult Content|
“Randall, what are you doing?” Aveline looks at me in shock as I give her a leering stare.
My wand flickers out and the lift stops, the warning charm sounding but I quickly diffuse it with a muttered spell before I fire off a blue, green, red, and orange sequence of sparks sending the staff a signal that it is me and I will be unavoidably delayed.
It has been four glorious days since Aveline told me she loved me and since then, it seems as if our life together has changed, each of us more than willing to give as the games between us have come to a sudden halt with her admission.
“I am thinking seriously about making love to my wife in this lift.” I give her my most wicked grin while I close the space between us. My mouth begins to move along the gentle curve of her neck while I am sure she looks at the lift and realizes that anyone who wanders by the third floor of the Worthington Office Building will be able to see their C.E.O. and his wife in a compromising situation through the glass sides of the lift.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. You’re scheduled to speak in 20 minutes.” Aveline gasps as my lips scorch her throat. Her breath hitches while I begin to grind against her, my erection pressed into her thigh.
“I own the company, Aveline. They will wait or I will terminate all of them.” I mutter matter-of-factly into her throat. I chuckle as I realize that my gathered board of directors are not stupid enough to question me about tardiness, especially at a Sunday affair meant to reward their productivity this past year.
Aveline’s hips undulate under her dress robes and I feel my hardness begin to strain unbearably against the material of my trousers. Her foot moves up the side of my leg until it is curved around my upper thigh. Aveline tries to look concerned but her rapid breathing deceives her as she inquires, “What if someone walks by, Whizzy, what will happen?”
“They would watch me fuck my wife who happens to be the most beautiful woman in the world.” I breathe in and her scent reminds me of a summer's night, much like the night we shared our first dance. My hands begin to unclasp her robes before I reach over the neckline and glide the thin straps of her black evening dress down her ivory white shoulders.
( Naughty or NiceCollapse )
When my body stops trembling, I release Aveline and she drops elegantly to the floor before she kisses me softly, murmuring against my lips, “I love you too, Whizzy but we’d better get to the party.”
I readjust myself while I watch Aveline smooth her robes. I know she is right, my board members await me, but every moment I spend with Aveline has become more precious to me, so I smile while leaning over to kiss my wife, “No love, we are going to go back home and spend the night together. I think that Cleansweep can survive for one night without me.”
December 5th, 2005
|03:15 pm - "Apologies in Paris..."|
Since my arrival yesterday in Paris, I have enjoyed Aveline’s company immensely. It seems that without the distraction of the world in which we must subsist, we are much closer. The same comfort level that existed for us in Las Vegas is present in Paris. In fact, I may dare to venture that we seem to be more comfortable here since we have had time to become acquainted with one another.
Still, I have been unable to muster up the courage to tell Aveline about my outing with Dorrie. Although the encounter was purely platonic, when I had a chance to think about it the next day, I could see where Aveline might question my motives. I truly was driven by my sense of business acumen in which my father told me that to succeed at developing and maintaining business partnerships at social events, it is necessary to be noticed. Had Aveline staying in town and attended Whitehorn’s party with me, then this potentially disastrous issue could have been avoided.
But I would be remiss to blame my wife for this problem. In my efforts to once more battle the Boggart that is my dead father’s ghost and his business success, I have made yet another bad decision when it comes to my relationship with the woman I love dearly. I would have never sought any type of conjugal relations with Dorrie and our relationship has settled into one of comfortable acquaintanceship and I am completely satisfied with that.
Dorrie will always hold a special place in my heart. I know it is wrong because she was with Charlie at the time but she was my first love. I watched the two of them from afar as I flitted from girl to girl at Hogwarts, always wondering what would have happened if Nymphadora Tonks had taken an interest in me instead of Charlie.
Yet, I am happy now with Aveline. She is my wife and I have lost myself completely in her. She makes me want to do things that no other woman has been able to coerce from me, even Dorrie. I love Aveline and to know that another one of my blunders could hurt the woman I have given my heart to without compunction.
This is why I left Aveline in our room at the Hotel Duc de Saint Simon after dinner. I have wandered around the hotel area for the past hour looking for the perfect gift to soothe my wife’s notorious temper but even though the jewelers and keepsake retailers have some wildly extravagant and expensive gifts which would astound Aveline, I do not believe that this approach will work.
I do not think that I can buy Aveline’s happiness, in much the same way I was not able to purchase Dorrie’s joy. But with Aveline, I believe this issue is even more pronounced because Dorrie could be distracted with little trinkets and my attention. Aveline demands a more complete fidelity toward her and my outing with Dorrie could be seen as a violation of the trust she has put in me.
After I have exhausted all options, I walk back to the hotel and enter the lobby, staring at the marbled columns and elegant tapestries that are on the walls of this esteemed establishment. Finding a flower vendor about to close his stand, I purchase a single red rose under a freezing charm. I find it oddly beautiful and want to give it to my wife but I know this will not be enough to make her happy again after I expose my act. After shrinking it and putting it in my front robe pocket, I make my way up the stairs until I find myself on the second floor. Walking down the hall, I soon find myself in front of the door to our room.
After opening the door, I walk inside and with a quick flick of my wand, I put up a silencing charm to mask any loud discussions which might emanate from this room once I give Aveline the news of my visit with Dorrie. Putting my wand on the entrance table, I take a deep breath and call out, “Aveline, I’m home.”
Aveline emerges from the bedroom, a bit too quickly for my liking. She walks over and places a chaste kiss on my lips. I am bit unnerved as she leads me over to the sofa, “Well, Mr. Worthington, what did you go out and buy me?”
I curse myself as we both sit. Her hand covers mine and she looks happy, no longer is she burdened by her job and the demands put on her by both her superiors and the people who work for her. Sighing, I bow my head while I say, “I need to speak to you about something, Aveline.”
Her eyebrows raise and she has a small hint of suspicion in her voice when she replies, “What’s wrong, Randall?”
Gripping her hand, I take a deep breath, locking eyes with Aveline, so she can see my truthfulness, “As you know, last Friday was the Whitehorn affair which I asked you to attend with me but you had made previous arrangements. Now, these events are important to the success of our company and the Mercury Fire would not exist if Whitehorn and I had not begun to discuss a collaborative project between our two companies last year at a similar function.”
Aveline looks at me intently, pulling her hand away from mine before she crosses them under her breasts. I wince slightly, realizing that Aveline’s current body language illustrates a closed posture and it could be very difficult to get through to her. I shake my head slightly before I continue, “Now, the first rule of attendance of these events is that one needs to be noticed and I foolishly took this to heart on Friday night. I took someone in your place in order to be seen.”
“You took Lola, Randall?” Aveline’s response is appropriate given Lola’s actions last week but she forgets that I banished Lola to Moscow.
“No, Gods, No, Aveline, I would never do that. I took Dorrie to the party.” I reply quickly before I realize that this is not the way I wanted to inform my wife about this excursion with my ex-wife.
“Tonks, you took Tonks to the party, you homme stupide.” Aveline responds angrily and I find myself shrinking back from her.
After I recover from my momentary shock to Aveline’s response, I reply, “Yes, but it was purely platonic, Aveline. I would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship. I love you.”
I give Aveline my best apologetic look but it does not seem to work when she hisses, “I have been patient, Randall when it comes to your potential indiscretions with women but this was your ex-wife who you took to a large social event to be seen by everyone.”
“This is true, Aveline but I do have my reasons. First, Dorrie is wonderful working a room of onlookers like that and second, I knew she would want to see Devlin Whitehorn. He is like a second father to Dorrie.” I respond, trying to placate my wife.
“That still does not make it all right, Randall. When will you ever learn?” Aveline’s tone is one of exasperation now and I realize that she is more hurt than angry and I think that makes this situation worse.
“I apologize, Aveline, I have found another way to foul up and it has affected you again.” I marvel because I sound upset while I speak to her. I know that I cannot keep doing this to Aveline and expect her to stay with me. “Aveline, I think it is because I am so absolutely in love with you that I just do not see opportunities to stray because I know I never will. As long as you are with me, you own my heart, Aveline.”
I shift on the sofa and feel a tiny jab on my side. Reaching into my robe pocket, I pull out the red rose and sigh because the freezing charm has begun to weaken and small drops of moisture now bead on it. I hand it to Aveline who stares at the rose in quiet reflection. Finally, she asks, “Why did you buy this, Whizzy?”
“Well, I looked all over for a gift to calm your anger after my admission but I found nothing worthy of you until I saw this single rose under a freezing charm,” I reply, cupping Aveline’s hand as she holds the rose. Leaning toward Aveline, I whisper in her ear, “The rose is beautiful, Aveline like you and that is why I bought it. But I was wrong, when I thought the rose was you when it was under the freezing charm. That was you when we first met, beautiful but aloof, a bit cold to the touch.”
Aveline still stares at the rose in wonder, her eyes following the small drops of water now falling from it and I decide to continue, “But this is you now, my love. You are slowly melting for me and I am trying so hard to be better for you. I apologize for hurting you, Aveline. I am not perfect like this rose…or like you. You are everything I could want in someone I love and I will never cheat on you, Aveline.”
Aveline looks up from the rose and captures my eyes with hers. It seems that she is searching my eyes for the truth in my words and when she finds it, she smiles and says, “I trust you, Randall, just don’t disappoint me, please.”
“As long as you are with me, Aveline, I promise that I will always be faithful to you, my love,” I respond with a conviction before I kiss Aveline and lay her gently on the sofa.
December 2nd, 2005
|03:13 pm - " Remembrances of the Past..."|
My wife still does not understand the subtle intricacies involved in running a multi-million Galleon corporation. For instance, when one shows up at a social event the magnitude of Devlin Whitehorn’s gathering tonight, one does not go without a beautiful woman on their arm. It is just plain unseemly.
Of course, this is my fault. I did not explain to Aveline the significance of this event so improperly labeled a ‘cocktail party’. The ‘cocktail party’ will take place in the Grand Wendonshire, the finest Wizarding hotel in Great Britain and in attendance will be many of the notables and dignitaries of the Wizarding World including Tiberius Ogden himself.
It will be an event to make connections that will serve my business well in the future along with solidifying relationships with those who I have forged an amicable association with already. My father taught me early in my career that having a beautiful woman with you only made it easier to be noticed by others.
Maybe if I had put it in those words, Aveline would have stayed home and gone to Paris tomorrow to visit her family. Still, family is important and Babette Delacour and the lovely sisters, Fleur and Gabrielle helped mold Aveline into the woman I love today, so I cannot begrudge Aveline. But it does hurt that I have barely seen my family since Aveline and my mother had a vehement argument when I took my future wife to Ollerton Estates for dinner.
I think that Aveline would have still gone to her family. The look in her eyes told me that it was no use to fight with her and she did readily agree to forgive me yesterday for the incident with Lola, so I do not have a leg to stand upon. But I wish she would have taken a moment to consider the import of this event.
But that will be a problem for later since I have decided to pay a rare social call to the Hogsmeade area in order to visit Fred Weasley and deliver the last group of Fleur Delacour’s photos. He will be able to commiserate with me since his Gabrielle will be in France also.
Walking morosely, I shove my hands into my robes against the cold. Looking down, I try to keep my face hidden from the casual passerby while I cross the street in front of Gladrags. The crowd is dense due to the holidays and it is nearly impossible to get around.
Suddenly, through the crowd, I notice a familiar bobbing pink head and I move quicker, slicing through the crowd until I stand behind her at the window display of Zonko’s. Reaching out, I touch her shoulder lightly, “Dorrie?”
She turns and smiles, a look of surprise on her face, “Whizzy, what brings you out slumming?”
“Well, I was just here…and it is great to see you. Where is your beau?’ I ask, a bit frightened that Charlie may scamper out from the crowd and return my punch from the night now long ago.
Dorrie must see the fear in my eyes because she puts her hand on my arm, “He had to go to the Highland Reserves. He’s staying the night, so I decided to take some time off and do his Christmas shopping.”
“Well, he is one lucky man. You were always an excellent gift giver,” I smile, relieved that Charlie is not in town or standing behind me.
A moment of divine inspiration hits me and I find myself grinning suddenly as I say, “Dorrie, I have a brilliant idea. Now you can say ‘no’ if you want but would you like to attend a party with me tonight? Just for old time’s sake. ”
“I don’t think Charlie would be too happy, Whizzy. You still haven’t apologized.” Dorrie shakes her head softly and I find myself mesmerized by her pink curls.
“Yes, I’ll get to it but I really want you to go with me. You were always so masterful at these events. If it had not been for you, I would not have been anywhere near as successful this past year.” I reach out and touch her arm, trying to convince her that I am being sincere.
“No, Whizzy, I shouldn’t go. I have shopping to do now.” Dorrie gives me a small smile before she begins to turn to leave.
“Devlin will be sorely disappointed,” I say, a bit irked at myself for using my trump card. Dorrie loves Devlin Whitehorn and thinks of him as almost another grandfather. Often, when he visited from the colonies, they would spend hours just talking.
Dorrie’s eyes light up when she hears his name, “Devlin Whitehorn will be there?”
“It is his function to announce the record breaking sales of the Mercury Fire. You should be there since it was your beauty which got Devlin to speak to me in the first place.” I reach for her hand and pat it once, trying to convince her to go with me.
“Well, I would love to see Devlin again,” Dorrie nods her head almost imperceptibly and I smirk, knowing that she will now go with me. Clapping her hands, she brightens immediately, “All right, I’ll agree to go but only if I Owl and hear back from Charlie with his approval.”
“Brilliant, now, I can have my tailors meet you at your flat...above Puddifoot’s now? I will be wearing a dark blue dress robe, so it will be easy to match. Party starts at seven at the Wendonshire, so we want to be there at eight...” I smile widely as I run through a long list of things which must be accomplished before the party.
Dorrie shakes her head and crosses her arm. Her chin is set while she says, “No, Whizzy, I have clothes and I’ll meet you at the Wendonshire if Charlie says it’s alright.”
I nod happily and walk away feeling accomplished that I was able to convince Dorrie to go with me. Now, I would have the lovely lass on my arm to insure that I would be seen at Whitehorn’s function. The rest of the day is spent preparing myself for the party and I decide that a pedicure and manicure would help me relax before my da…engagement.
Before I know it, I am preparing for the party and as promised, I wear a midnight blue dress robe, its colors so dark that it borders on black. I look quite dashing in this particular robe and now that I have Dorrie by my side this evening, I will be able to mingle in the proper circles.
When I arrive at the Wendonshire, I am once more startled by its opulence. The entire building is mirrored and even the moonlight reflecting off the glass is blinding. Dorrie Apparates in soon after me and I turn looking at her. She is stunning, a gold dress clinging to every curve on her body. Her legs have retained a runner’s litheness and if possible, she looks more beautiful than when she left me, although the Weasley red hair seems a bit much, it does look good on her. The bodyguards wave us in and soon we find ourselves mingling with the rich and the powerful.
This is where Dorrie excels and it seems every set of eyes in the place turns to us while we saunter around the room, smiling and shaking hands. She can capture a room with seemingly a smile and she has unknowingly helped me open many new connections in the business world.
The next part of the evening is spent mingling and I find myself enjoying Dorrie’s company which seems odd because at these functions, I normally would find myself making business dealings on the balcony by now. But this is pleasurable and it reminds me of the old comfort we had with one another at points in our lives.
Finally, we make our way to the small dais and see Devlin Whitehorn standing there with his lovely granddaughter, Donna. I gulp as Dorrie takes my hand and we make our way to them. Devlin comes down from up high and greets me before wrapping Dorrie in a rather familiar hug, “Tonks, my white granddaughter, you have returned to me.”
“Devlin, you lovely man, I’ve missed seeing my favorite colonist,” Dorrie replies, returning his hug and kissing him on the cheek.
Devlin smirks amusedly as he completes one of he and Dorrie’s rituals, “Native, Dorrie, I am a Native American. Why must I always correct you?”
“How are you, Whizzy?” Donna’s voice seems tiny, nervous as she speaks to me, her hands holding each other in front of her.
“I am fine, Donna,” I respond, remembering her kissing me in Arizona under the desert night. The moment becomes uncomfortable between us as Devlin and Dorrie continue to flirt.
I hear the orchestra announce that this would be the final set and I grin before stepping past Donna and taking Dorrie’s hand from behind. I bow my head slightly, “Would you care to take the last dance, my lady?”
Dorrie nods and soon we find ourselves on the dance floor together, my arm around her waist and her body pressed against me, her curves so familiar melded to me. We spin slowly in the middle of the dance floor, smiling and for a moment, the world disappears. Leaning over, I whisper, “Thank you so much for coming with me, Dorrie.”
“Well, it’s been a pleasure, Whizzy. I’ve truly enjoyed myself and I think for the first time, you have actually spent a majority of the evening with me at one of these events.” Dorrie grins and I twirl her again.
“It seems that I have lost the desire for backroom bartering, Dorrie. I just wanted to enjoy the evening with you.” I announce smugly but the truth is that I am comfortable around her. Now, I miss Aveline immensely and would love to be with her but being with Dorrie reminds me of days past when we were at the pinnacle of the English social circles.
“It’s really too bad you were such an insufferable prig when we were married, Whizzy. If you had been more attentive, we could still be wed.” Dorrie’s hands circle around my neck.
“I regret those times, Dorrie and I have tried to change.” I reply, enjoying the feel of Dorrie’s touch on my neck, no matter how innocent it really is. My eyes catch hers when I say, “I have always hoped that we would retain our friendship after we divorced, Dorrie. I miss speaking with you.”
“I’ve missed talking to you too, Whizzy, you always had a way of making me smile when I was down,” Dorrie grins while her hands return to my shoulders.
The song ends and we pull apart, each of us understanding that the night is done. Normally, I would feel frustrated knowing that the night would end without the promise of more but this seems to be the perfect conclusion to the evening. So after we leave the dance floor, we give the coat check girl our ticket and she returns with our coats promptly.
I help to put Dorrie’s coat on before we walk out the door. Breathing in the cold night air, I find a small shiver running up my spine while I say, “Dorrie, I will escort you home.”
“That’s okay, Whizzy. I’m a grown girl,” she replies, a mischievous grin playing across her features. Dorrie steps into me and hugs me once before she says, “Thank you for the wonderful evening, Mr. Worthington.”
I smile softly as I watch Dorrie walk to the Apparation point and I know she is right…she can handle life on her own now.
December 1st, 2005
|03:09 pm - "Absolution..." NC 17 for Sexual Content|
“Lola, the stack goes over there, dear,” I grin at my personal assistant’s efficiency. Since her mishap a few days ago, she has been nothing but the model of decorum, maintaining her astounding work ethic while also keeping her distance away from me. I realize now that the poor girl was just mesmerized by her work and was not the foul temptress my wife had made her out to be when she cautioned me about Lola.
Lola returns my smile with a lovely one of her own and I return to the parchment full of figures in front of me. It has always been the sheer power of this business which has captivated me and the numbers on this page prove the staggering amount of brooms we have moved in the past year.
Lola’s small voice breaks my concentration, “Will there be anything else, Mr. Worthington before I put this into the post for the Moscow office.”
“No, Lola, just pull the door to because I have to change before I meet my wife upstairs. We are going out for a casual dinner tonight.” I stand and stretch as Lola makes her way out the door. Tonight, Aveline will be home early and I have decided to take her out to eat at ‘Aladdin’s Lamp’, one of my favorite restaurants, although the last time I made reservations, Aveline was unable to go.
After I see the door shut quietly, I make my way behind the dressing screen in my office. Although I have a penthouse upstairs, I have always found it convenient to keep a small wardrobe packed with clothes for all seasons. Tonight, I want to be a bit more casual, so I pull on a white jumper and begin to remove my trousers.
As they fall to the floor, I gasp when I feel a hand pressing against the outline of my groin. I sigh softly and lean my head back, closing my eyes as my wife grazes her delicate fingernails against the skin of my lower abdomen, reaching into my boxers. “Gods, Aveline, I am so glad you came home early.”
I turn quickly, feeling a bit upset when her hand falls away but no matter, I want to kiss my wife. Taking hold of her face, I open my eyes and sit in shock as my hands hold Lola’s smooth cheeks.
Groaning, I stumble away and find myself tripping over my new Italian wool trousers. Sprawling on the floor, I struggle to get up while Lola moves forward and straddles me. She sits firmly on my stomach, her body slithering against mine before she kisses me. At another time, I would be quite flattered but I am a married man and this cannot happen.
Lola tries to snake her tongue into my mouth but I finally gather my wits and push her off of me. She lands on the floor with a thud as I say, “Bloody Hell, Woman! What in Merlin’s name was that about?”
I stand but soon Lola is on me again and I move against the wall. She looks at me, the familiar hint of desire in her eyes, “I was showing you what we both want, Whizzy…”
“What do you mean? By the Gods, Lola, I am a married man. I love my wife and do not want anyone else,” I stammer while move crablike against the wall, cringing away from her.
“Not even this, Whizzy?” Lola purrs and her dress suddenly lies in a puddle on the floor and I am not surprised that she does not wear a single undergarment. I cannot help but take a brief glance at her body and I must say it is luscious. Firm, high breasts, a delicate waist, and rounded hips make up my lovely assistant but she is nothing compared to my Aveline.
Regaining my composure, I straighten myself while I stand and pull up my trousers. After I zip them, I say firmly, “Please put your clothes back on, Lola and leave my office.”
Lola looks at me, stunned, and for a moment, I think she is going to try to seduce me again. Instead, she reaches down and gathers her dress before slipping it back on. She hangs her head, her eyes looking at me demurely from under her raven hair, “I’m sorry, Mr. Worthington. I just mixed up your signals and got carried away. It won’t happen again.”
“Of course it will not, Lola.” I smile while I think up what to do with her. I do not want to fire her so close to Christmas but I still cannot tolerate Lola here with me. Instead, I point at the parchment she discarded sitting on a small table next to my office sofa and say, “I would like you to make sure that this parchment is delivered to Moscow personally by Monday.”
“Personally, Whizzy, I don’t understand. Wait you can’t mean…” Lola gasps as she realizes what my words denote.
“Yes, Lola, I meant personally. I will have your transfer papers ready for you in an hour. Goodbye.” I reply, trying to maintain my calm façade. But deep inside, I am worried about what my wife will think about this. I have to tell her, I have vowed to be honest with Aveline and although this will be difficult, I have to perform this odious duty.
After Lola leaves, I make my way up to my penthouse, dreading every step. I know Aveline is home already and waits for me inside. Still, I open the door and see my wife sitting on the couch reading the ‘Daily Prophet’. She looks up and smirks, “Whizzy, you’re actually late? Did your office burn down?”
I try to smile brightly but I know that I fail to even put a slight crease on my face. Aveline puts down the paper and stands, a concerned look on her face while I say, “You were right about Lola, Aveline, she did seem to have alternative plans for our employer and employee relationship.”
“What do you mean, Randall?” Aveline purses her lips and scowls as her arms cross under her breasts.
I try to step toward her but it is to no avail and Aveline moves back until her legs are resting against the couch. “She tried to seduce me, Aveline. I was changing behind the dressing screen in my office when Lola snuck up behind me and cupped my crotch. At first, I thought it was you but when I turned around, it was Lola.”
“What exactly happened?” Aveline arches her eyebrow and I feel for a brief second that I am being interrogated.
“She kissed me but I threw her off and then she took off her clothes. But I resisted her and told her to get out. Lola was not happy.” I reply anxiously, trying to appease my lovely wife.
Her scowl seems to soften somewhat at my last reply. “So where is the lovely Lola now?”
“I had her transferred to Moscow. Her papers are being filed as we speak.” I respond with an amused chuckle. But Aveline still looks at me harshly, “I am so very sorry, Aveline, I should have listened to you.”
“Yes, Whizzy, that would have saved you much trouble and I would not be so mad at you now.” Aveline responds quickly but I notice a slight smirk on her face. Bracing myself, I decide that I should take that as a sign. Aveline gasps when I step toward her suddenly and gather her into my arms. My hands clinch around her waist and I pull her to me.
“But you do not look too upset, Aveline,” I grin wickedly and I am glad Aveline does not struggle against me. Leaning down, I kiss her softly before I say, “Please, Avie, I love only you. We can use the Pensieve in the Research Department and I will pull the memory of Lola if you need proof.”
“I should just leave you tonight for being a fool, Randall. But I trust you and I’m glad you didn’t fall for her temptation.” She moans softly as I let my hands drift down her body. I always think that I have memorized her every curve, but I always seem to find something wondrous and beautiful about her and tonight, it is the way her body heaves agains me when I touch her just like this...
“Never anyone but you, love. Let me worship you.” I plead, surprised by the fact that this did not turn out to be a full blown argument. Slowly, I slide my hands down her body while I sink to my knees in front of her, leisurely removing her skirt.
( “Forgiveness”Collapse )
Still, I kneel before her, my moment of supplication not past. After a moment, Aveline recovers her breath and strokes her fingers lazily through my hair. I wonder now if she will allow me to find my own pleasure with her and my eyes beseech my wife to let me share my love with her. Instead Aveline stands quickly and I nearly fall forward into the couch before she says harshly. “I’m going to take a bath, Randall.”
I stare at her, dejected but in the next instant, Aveline smiles widely while she continues, “And while I’m doing that, Whizzy, you will undress and wait in our bed. When my body is clean, I am going to reward you properly for fighting off Lola today.”
I smile while I watch her walk away...I think that I am forgiven…