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Author: St Margarets Story: Roger and Lisa, A Romance Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 22 Words: 94,210
“This committee has found Lisa Davies, formerly Lisa Turpin, negligent with Ministry property.” Lisa felt her heart drop to her toes as the wizard went on in a pitiless voice, “However, based on her past record and her due diligence in reporting this matter, the committee finds that only a verbal reprimand is necessary.” The wizard looked over his spectacles at her. “Ms. Davies may now leave with her counsel.” Lisa left the chilly stone room with Richard, feeling both chastised and relieved. The antechamber to the full Wizengamot was much smaller, but it was still an intimidating place for an inquiry. She still had her job. And it was over at long last. “You and Roger were right,” she said with a sidelong glance. “Those are wonderful words,” Richard replied with an edge to his voice. “Don’t we all adore being right?” He took her by the elbow and steered her to the lifts. “I’m supposed to feed you lunch – Roger’s orders. He can’t meet us because he’s still in negotiations with the Maintenance workers.” “Lunch would be lovely.” She wasn’t really hungry, but she wanted to talk to him about Gabriella. “But first…” “Food first,” he interrupted. “You’ve had a propensity for swooning lately.” “Swooning.” Lisa shot him a teasing smile. “Just like a Fifi LaFolle novel.” * He took her to A Call to Arms Pub, the place where she and Roger had first discussed Phillip Goyle, Time-Turners and the corruption in Nigel Anderson’s department. It was depressing to realize how long it was taking for any of it to be resolved. Blanche waited on them, looking askance at Richard. “I haven’t seen you or your brother here for a long time.” “I have no excuse,” Richard replied, as Blanche placed plates of roasted beef and potatoes in front of them. “But Roger does. This is his wife, Lisa.” Blanche put both hands on her hips and shook her head with a grin. “Of course. You were here once. Well, I must say, Roger has been busy.” Lisa put her hands on her swollen abdomen, trying not to blush. “I’m sorry, ducks,” Blanche said, “I’ve been around these blokes too long. When’s the sprog due?” “Um, two months or so,” Lisa answered. “Well, congratulations, or should I say that to Roger? Never saw a bloke so determined to win his girl back.” She patted Lisa’s arm kindly. “I’m glad it all worked out – you tell him for me.” “I will,” Lisa murmured, now remembering how Roger had learned all those Cleaning Charms. “What was that all about?” Richard asked once Blanche had left. “More Fifi LaFolle drama,” she answered pertly. “Want to hear the details of our courtship?” “Not when you put it that way.” His grin didn’t quite reach his eyes as he picked up his knife and fork. “A very good defense, by the way. You could have represented yourself in front of the committee.” “No, I couldn’t.” Lisa shuddered thinking how intimidating it had been to sit before five witches and wizards and have her fate decided. “And I haven’t thanked you for all of your help.” “No problem.” He kept his attention on his food. She toyed with her fork, hoping she was doing the right thing. “I think there is a problem.” “Not with me.” “I don’t believe you.” “I’m not going to argue with a pregnant lady.” “And I’m not going to defer this conversation for two months.” He sighed and put down his knife and fork with a clatter. “Okay. What has you convinced there’s a problem?” He had Roger’s way of tightening his mouth when he was angry, Lisa realized. “Gabriella.” For a second his eyes lit up. “You’ve heard from her?” “No.” His face clouded and Lisa knew her suspicions were correct. “She went sailing with her brother, didn’t she?” Lisa asked. “Gabriella sailed into the sunset,” he affirmed tightly. Her breath caught. “Is she coming back?” “To England?” His mouth twisted into a parody of a smile. “I assume so. To me? No.” Lisa nodded, at a loss for words. Poor Richard, she thought, as she tried to eat a bite of roast beef. “Did Roger put you up to this?” he asked suspiciously. “No.” She put her fork down nervously. Roger was not going to be happy with her at all. She had needlessly upset Richard since she could now see that she was not the person to help him. He looked positively ferocious as he scowled at her from across the table, and she didn’t quite know how to cope with him. “So.” He settled back into his chair. “Do you think I’m a fool for letting her go?” Lisa froze. Richard was asking her opinion – he wasn’t angry with her, he was angry with himself. Some of the tension in her neck eased. “No, of course you should have let her go on the trip. She was tired from Christmas. She loves to sail.” At his silence, she frowned. “That was the question, wasn’t it?” “The question has other implications.” “You mean?” Richard was not making this easy. “You mean you broke up with her because she wanted to go on this trip?” He nodded, his face a blank. Never in a million years would Lisa have guessed that Richard was that petty – unless… She cocked her head and tried a thought out loud. “You know, when someone leaves, that doesn’t mean they’re gone forever.” “I know,” he answered hoarsely. “Do you?” she pressed him. “I mean this must feel awfully familiar…” “Familiar?” “One minute she’s here, loving you – and the next minute – she’s not.” At his impassive stare, she added, “I’m talking about Emmeline.” That seemed to snap whatever control was holding him back. “I told her not to go that day. We quarreled an hour before she walked into their trap.” He was white to the lips as he told her this. “What do you think is going to happen to Gabriella?” Lisa asked softly. Instead of answering her question, Richard clenched his hands together. “Do you know what the problem was with Gabriella’s lease?” She shook her head, waiting for whatever would come next. “It was a five year lease and Gabriella only wanted a year-to-year lease.” “So?” “Don’t you see, Lisa? Gabriella grew up on a boat. She’s never lived in one place longer than four years. I’m the oldest, the heir to the estate – I have the Hippogriff manor attached to me like a millstone around my neck. I can’t go anywhere else – and frankly – I don’t want to. She’s ready to move on even though she doesn’t know it yet. I just speeded things up.” Lisa swallowed, thinking how disastrously close she had come to breaking up with Roger – for his own good. “Oh, Richard.” She wasn’t afraid of him anymore since he was just as misguided as she had been. “I think you’re wrong.” He crossed his arms over his chest, but she persisted. “Maybe Gabriella didn’t want to sign that lease because she didn’t know what kind of holiday sales she would have this year. Fashion is a precarious business, you know.” His eyes widened and she knew she had hit her mark. “Has Gabriella ever said she didn’t like the manor house?” “No,” he admitted dully. When Lisa didn’t say anything more, he added, “I feel like I killed something.” “You didn’t kill Emmeline,” Lisa said sharply. He looked up at that. “I contributed. Since she was so angry –” “You did not take out a wand and hex her,” Lisa hissed. “I know about guilt, Richard. It will eat you alive and spoil everything for years to come.” He let his arms drop to his sides. “I used to know that, too. After I got sober.” Lisa breathed easier. “But this is a little like déjà vu, isn’t it? Having Gabriella go away after a quarrel without a word from her?” “Yes,” he answered in a choked sort of voice. “Richard, if this is love…” She regarded him for a moment, trying to gauge how candid she could be. “If this is love,” she repeated, “then you can’t have killed it. You can’t kill love.” “How do you know that?” He folded his arms again. “I study it at the Department of Mysteries, remember?” she answered. He stared at her a moment and then he asked carefully, “You’re not going to talk about the sublime and the beautiful are you?” She laughed at his wary expression. “No.” “Gabriella told me,” he began. He looked so confused and lost that Lisa’s heart went out to him. “She told me that I would regret it – that she was the best thing that had happened to me in years.” “Was she right?” Richard bowed his head. “Yes.” “You can win her back, you know.” “How do you know that?” “Because she gave you an out. If you can show some regret…” He gave a short laugh. “Oh, I can do regret.” “Then what are you waiting for?” “Gabriella is in the middle of the ocean.” Lisa waved her hand. “I’m an old pro at ship-to-shore owling.” “You mean –” “Send the gray owl from the office. He looks strong enough,” Lisa said excitedly. “Meanwhile, you’ll need your passport and some Galleons. Most foreign banks don’t like to exchange anything smaller –” “Who says I’m going to go today?” he asked in alarm. “It’s Friday now. Monday I have that land trust case to argue in front of the full Wizengamot.” “Roger can do it,” she said firmly. “Roger hasn’t argued a case for a decade.” “Then it’s time he started,” she retorted. “Roger prepared that case, and you know it. He did the deed searches – he interviewed the witnesses.” “I know.” He smiled sheepishly. “I was going to spend the weekend going over his work so I would be prepared.” “Roger can do it,” she said. “I’m sure your client would agree.” “But would Roger want to do it?” Richard asked, the color draining from his face. “He went through hell for me and hurt his career.” “You mean his career as a barrister?” “Yes.” She titled her head and realized something. “If Roger was a top barrister he would be directly competing with you – even as partners since you would both vie for clients and cases and court time. Am I right?” “Yes.” “Do you really think Roger wants to compete with you?” Richard propped his elbows on the table. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t think he wants to compete with you,” she stated flatly. “He loves you and wants to be there for you, just like you were there for him so many years ago – can’t you see that?” Richard sighed and gazed at her thoughtfully, a warm glint in his eye. “If Roger can win an argument with you, he can win a paltry inheritance dispute in front of the full Wizengamot.” “I only use my powers for good,” Lisa said primly. He laughed. “It’s a rare gift.” Then he sobered and his brown eyes darkened. “Thank you.” Lisa didn’t like a humble Richard any more than she liked a humble Roger. She pushed her plate away and grinned at him. “I’m just following the law of sister love.” “And what’s that?” “Ask me annoying questions, tell me what to do, and cover my backside even if it has spread a little in the winter.” She giggled. “I think that’s how Padma would define it.” “Your friend, Padma – she’s certainly part of the scary sisterhood.” Then he frowned at her plate. “You’ve hardly eaten anything. Do you want something different?” She shook her head. “I think I’ll go home and have a nap. I was really worried about this inquiry last night.” “You handled it very well, though,” Richard said. “And since then you’ve been more worried about me than that verbal warning on your record.” “I don’t think the Ministry could have punished me any more than I punished myself.” She sighed. “I did neglect procedure.” He stood up and threw some Galleons on the table. “You know I was very impressed with that Charm you devised.” “Nigel Anderson says it never worked.” Richard muttered something foul about Nigel Anderson as he left the pub. Once they were out in the cold, damp street, he turned to her. “Roger was right about Goyle and this entire Time-Turner business. There were enough holes in Anderson’s testimony to fly a herd of Hippogriffs. Once I’m back from Madagascar or wherever I’m going, I’m going to look into it.” Her heart lifted. “Really?” “Really. I should have listened earlier.” “Work on your love life first,” she advised. “Right.” This time his smile reached his eyes and colored his voice. “I have a trip to plan.” “Good luck, Richard,” she said sincerely, touching his arm. “Thanks.” He kissed her cheek. “Should I be expecting the sublime or the beautiful?” She thought back to the flood tide of relief and joy she had felt when Roger had come back to her. And then she imagined a sparking blue sea and white sails and kisses mixed with the taste of salt. “Both,” she answered. * The morning of the Werner vs. Werner land trust trial, Lisa got up early and made Roger a full cooked breakfast – which he didn’t eat. With her wand, she spent ten minutes ironing the collar and cuffs of his best shirt and then smoothed out the wrinkles of the body of the garment with care, even though it wouldn’t show under his robes. He took the still-warm shirt from her and buttoned it without a word. When he turned up the collar to tie the blue striped tie she had given him for Christmas, he groaned that stiff collars always made him feel as if he was next in line for the gallows. As the clock struck eight, he stepped into the fire, mumbling something about papers in the office. Lisa was torn between worry and wanting to hex him. * Her morning at work didn’t go much better. She couldn’t concentrate on any of the literature surrounding the locked room. Mr. Johnson, still rattled from the inquiry on Friday, did something wrong in the planet room, so that the spheres kept slamming into one another at irregular intervals. When the universe was off, it was bloody irritating. After Venus and Mars collided for the tenth time, she threw her Quill down and checked her watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. She still had time to make it to courtroom ten to watch Roger – although he hadn’t said if he wanted her there or not. She should go – she was his wife. But she didn’t want to distract him. Of course, Roger probably wouldn’t be distracted by her or even notice she was there. He had focus. She did not. Roger was going to win, of course. Lisa was sure of that as she scurried to the bank of lifts. He had spent hours on this case already – he knew the witnesses quite well – he knew every nuance of the will in dispute. As the floor dropped in the lift, Lisa wondered if the cave woman was only supposed to coo over the Wooly Mammoth when her caveman dragged it home, or did the cave woman watch the hunt and cheer him on? When she stepped off the lift she saw that there was a crowd waiting to leave. The other trial must be over. She hurried through the milling throng and found the stairs descending to courtroom ten. They would close the doors once the proceedings had begun. Now she wanted to be there for Roger and what if she was late? She would have sighed with relief when she saw the heavy doors still open, except she was too out of breath for that. Instead, she swayed and leaned against one. “Er – Miss?” A Wizengamot official – maybe he was the bailiff – was looking at her with concern. “Are you all right?” “Um, yes.” “Are you a witness?” “No, I’m here to watch. My husband is representing counsel for the defense.” The wizard looked at his clipboard. “Richard is married?” She smiled. “Wrong Davies.” His broad face cleared. “The brother.” He nodded. “I’ve see him quite a bit, but he never speaks.” “Today he will.” This man had such a nice face – such an understanding face. “That’s why I’m here,” she added nervously. “Of course you are.” He gently took her elbow and steered her down a narrow walkway. “You can sit here.” She was as close to the judges as she could get without actually being a member of the Wizengamot. So much for not being a distraction. There were two tables facing the judges in the center of the courtroom. Roger sat at one with his client, Greta Werner. Cormac McClaggen sat at his with the plaintiff. To the casual observer, Roger didn’t look nervous – he wasn’t fiddling with the papers in front of him or talking nonstop to his client like Cormac McClaggen – but Lisa could tell he was anxious by the tight set of his mouth and the rumpled appearance of his tie. He must have been pulling on it at some point in the morning. “All rise,” said the friendly bailiff. The members of the Wizengamot filed in followed lastly by the head judge. Lisa recognized several people from the Golden Age cruises she had taken, including Albert Bones. Seeing those familiar faces eased the tension in her shoulders somewhat. Cormac McClaggen began with a long opening statement about private gain and public good – or was it public gain and private good? Lisa lost track about ten minutes into his speech. There was a collective sigh when he finally finished with a quote from Marcus Aureulis. Then it was Roger’s turn. As he stood up, Lisa was seized with a horrible feeling of déjà vu. She remembered feeling just like this before Ravenclaw’s matches at Hogwarts. There was always a group of girls who would stand by the entrance of Ravenclaw tower and call good luck to all of the players. She had never done that. He can’t get hit by a Bludger here, she reminded herself. None of these spectators would call out insulting things, either. Roger looked at the parchment in his hand and then went back to the table and exchanged it for another. She hadn’t told him good luck this morning. In fact, she hadn’t said anything at all to him about the trial. She had made him breakfast and ironed his shirt. He would know what she meant by that – wouldn’t he? She clasped her hands together and realized with fresh regret that she had never told him that she knew he could do this. She had told Richard that – but she hadn’t told her own husband that she believed in him. He didn’t even know she was here in courtroom ten. “Today we will examine Anya Werner’s will and to the best of our ability we will execute that document according to her wishes,” Roger began in an even voice. “Sadly, her two beloved granddaughters understand her last testament differently, so my client, Greta Werner, is asking the Wizengamot for its wisdom in deciding whether the land adjoining the Modesty Rabnott Snidget Reservation in Somerset is to be held in trust for the benefit of the magical world as put forth in her will, or if it is to be placed in the hands of her last living heirs, Greta and Marta Werner. My client feels strongly that her grandmother wanted that land to go to the trust.” After this succinct speech, Roger sat down and the first witness – Anya Werner’s neighbor of sixty years – was called. He was doing a fantastic job, Lisa realized proudly after the first witness stepped down. He knew the wording of the will by heart so that his interrogation went smoothly and logically. Cormac McClaggen hemmed and hawed and shuffled papers and wasted so much time, the judge had to tell him to ‘get on with it’ twice. The case for the land going to the trust was building slowly but surely. But as Lisa remembered Roger saying – the lawyer who had written the will had left several large loopholes. Finally it was time for the closing argument. Predictably, Cormac McClaggen blathered on about blood ties and family history. When Roger stood up, Lisa noticed one of the witches to her right elbow her companion. She had the same expression that Padma used to get when she saw Ajax Goodwin in Quidditch Illustrated. Lisa smiled to herself. He's mine, she thought proudly. Then she smirked as she realized Roger would be appalled that they (and she) weren't admiring all the finer points of his argument. “There are many ways to write a contract,” he said, holding up the original of Anya Werner’s will. “The most elegant and effective contracts rely on language alone. However, in the magical world, we have further insurance that our contracts will be followed. I must confess that when I examined this contract for all the standard hexes, jinxes and curses that our profession has at its disposal I found nothing. I didn’t think until this morning to look for…” He smiled. “Something not quite as professional.” The witches tittered in appreciation. Another wry smile. “My builder told me once that Column Charms are for hacks.” Roger took out his wand and waved it over the parchment. One section of it turned pink. “Rash Charms are the legal equivalent of the Column Charm – also for hacks.” A sickly sweet smell of perfume wafted over Lisa. “It’s a minor threat,” Roger continued. “But one that seems to underscore Anya Werner’s intent. If we do not execute this paragraph of her will according to her intent, we will all be doused with this foul perfume and if I’m not mistaken, the itching will not subside for a fortnight.” There was a murmur of comfortable laughter all around. Roger inclined his head toward the judges to indicate he was finished and then he looked straight at Lisa. His expression never changed, but there was a warm glint in his eyes – just for her. He had known she was there the entire time. It took the judges less than five minutes to rule in favor of Greta Werner. Roger had won his first case in front of the Wizengamot. * Lisa didn’t see him again until he Apparated into the kitchen in time for dinner. “You did it!” she cried as she flung herself in his arms. “I did.” He hugged her back and then sniffed the air. “What’s to eat? I had to skip lunch to spend more quality time with Clyde.” “Who’s Clyde?” “The head of maintenance at St. Mungo’s,” Roger replied, peeking in the wall oven. “Remember – he was at Melinda’s wedding?” “Right.” She frowned as he helped himself to a corner of the pastry on the chicken pie. “I thought those negotiations were finished?” “The first round was with the union itself – the next will be with the board of directors at St. Mungo’s.” “Why did it take so long?” She slapped his hand away from the chicken pie and put the dish on the table. “It took that long for Clyde and those union blokes to trust me,” he answered, this time nipping a piece of celery from the salad bowl on the counter. “Didn’t I tell you how I wowed him with my knowledge of Cleaning Charms?” “You did?” She checked the smallest cauldron to see if the carrots were done. “I probably forgot to tell you because that was the day you fainted.” He grinned. “I knew the Odor-free Charm to vanish vomit.” She raised her eyebrows. “I think you do know more Cleaning Charms than I do.” He grinned and crunched on more celery. “You should do a Cleaning Charm on your hands,” she said as she rescued the salad bowl from him. “We’ll eat as soon as the carrots are done.” He headed up the stairs to the bathroom. By the time he was back, dinner was waiting on the table. “You know, I just noticed, but you never Apparate within the house.” “I need the exercise,” he said, “I don’t want to have cellulite on my thighs.” She tried not to giggle and failed. “No really – why?” “You can’t Apparate, so it doesn’t seem fair to pop around when you can’t. And,” he added sheepishly, “I still like looking at the house.” That took her by surprise. It had been such a long, gradual process, but they had made a home, she realized, flushing with pleasure. “I like the house, too.” They ate in silence since Roger was ravenous. After his second helping of chicken pie, Lisa decided to say what she had neglected to say for so long. “You know, I realized today at the trial that I never told you good luck or that I thought you would win or anything.” He looked up in surprise. “You cooked me breakfast. You ironed this shirt into something so stiff I might as well be wearing a suit of armor.” “I wanted to do something…” “I know.” He leaned over the table and kissed her. “I did get the message.” She touched his cheek. “Good. I just want to make sure I say the things I should say. I mean, I think them – but I don’t always say them.” “Sweetheart, you worry too much.” “I never said good luck when you were Captain,” she blurted, not understanding why this was so important. He smiled. “I finally won the match, Lisa. And you were there.”
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