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ღ chapter twenty three ( white dress )
SMALL FIREFLIES TWINKLED in the evening dusk, soft grass caressing the soles of Juliet Black's feet, as she carried a glass dish of mashed potatoes to the table Sirius and Mary had set up outside, nearly tripping over an overgrown tree root that had found itself in the lawn. Hermione followed close behind with the gravy, the others finding their way with their own responsibility that had been delegated by Cordelia. Juliet had been eyeing the dessert, banoffee pie, which was her personal favorite.
Mary had been setting chinaware down on the table, smiling when she spotted the gaggle of teenagers carrying the food, somehow not spilling it on their way out. She flourished her wand to conjure a couple of extra lamps, the golden glow spilling over the table.
Jules found herself sandwiched between Hermione, and Sirius, who was at the head of the table. Harry kept kicking her shins from across the table, and Ron was in the middle of a fascinating conversation with Aster, while Cordelia and Mary pointed their wands at the dishes so they began to serve the food themselves. "I love magic," Hermione grinned.
"How was France?" Jules asked Hermione, forking a piece of chicken and stuffing it in her mouth.
Hermione, who had just taken a rather large bite of potatoes, sputtered, coughing as she swallowed, before wiping her face with a napkin. "It was pretty," Hermione said wistfully. "You should have seen the bookstores, I do wish my French was better."
"Maman et papa parlent tous les deux français," Jules teased, herself fluent in French due to etiquette classes she'd gone to for a few years until she'd thrown a fit and quit because of how stuffy it was.
"Yeah, we do," Sirius teased. "So you can't get away with telling her we speak French like it's code."
"Has it been nice being with your family Mr. Black?" Hermione asked politely, passing Jules a bottle of butterbeer.
Sirius smiled softly, still getting used to actually recieving respect from people when they talked to him. "My daughter can be quite the handful, as I'm sure you know, and it's been an adjustment from the last twelve or so years, but I'm very grateful to be with them."
"It was a yes or no question Dad," Jules quipped, tossing a pea at him, which he tossed back, hitting her squarely in the nose. "Where's Uncle Moony by the way?"
She'd started calling him that during his weekly visits, when he'd have tea with the Black family. Cordelia chimed in from the other end of the table. "Running late, as usual. He'll be here soon-ahh speak of the devil."
As if he had heard Jules ask the question, Remus Lupin appeared on the lawn, sliding into an empty seat next Ron, smiling warmly. "Alright Moony?" Sirius asked, smiling kindly at his friend. The full moon had been two days ago, and even the Wolfsbane Cordelia had brewed for him didn't take away the pain from his transformations, bones cracking, and nerves on fire. Sirius had spent the night with him as Padfoot.
