Possessiveness and Other Such Oddities

Facetious pt. 3

a/n: hey everyone!! i hope you're doing well!  sorry for how late this update was, it's exam season so y'all know how it is.  but i made this chapter a little longer to *hopefully* make up for it.  

Harry woke up just before midday, groggily stretching his stiff limbs and massaging his aching palms. His makeup had mostly rubbed off, but pigment lingered under his eyes, and so when he staggered to the bathroom, he splashed his face with water and a palm magic facimunda. It wouldn't do to contaminate the ceremony robes for this evening, so he dressed in soft pants and an overrobe for brunch. Cousin Rhodesia and Father were already seated and responded to his late rising with a "Good morning Harry," and a "You're late," respectively. He just smiled apologetically and settled down to eat breakfast in response.

If there was one thing that he missed while at Hogwarts, it would be the food cooked by Poppy. The house-elf had curated a massive breakfast, with assorted chutneys, egg and vegetable dishes, and decadent pastries, to name a few. Harry neatly ate his food, taking care to mind his manners, and sipped a mimosa made with freshly squeezed orange juice, not daring to start the conversation. Eventually, Cousin Rhodesia broke the silence and said, "After the ritual last night, I slept like a babe."

After he chewed and swallowed, Harry replied, "And I as well. What about you, father?"

"Quite. The ritual was quite taxing."

With James' piece said, they all lapsed back into silence, tension thick like porridge.

Cousin Rhodesia attempted to start another conversation, "Neither of you have been to the annual ritual, are you excited to go?"

Truth be told, Harry was incredibly excited, but at his father's sour expression and clenched jaw, he just muttered, "More or less," but at Cousin Rhodesia's raised eyebrow, he repeated himself, enunciating clearly, and making sure to speak at an appropriate volume. She nodded, having anticipated his answer, but a soft sadness in her eyes knew he wasn't expressing the full range of his emotions -- he never did, back at home.

Father would either answer acidly or not at all, so Cousin Rhodesia didn't bother waiting around for his answer, or pointing it towards him, opting to serve herself some papaya and drink her cardamom chai. Harry smiled tightly and served himself some papaya as well; he could never get it at Hogwarts, and even if he did, it wouldn't be nearly as good as it would be at home. Everything tasted better at home, even if James was there to sour it all.

A thought hit him as he chewed the orangey fruit.

Father better be paying Poppy.

Poppy was an older elf, shriveled with age, and wasn't a fan of the new policies that required payment and off days for house-elves (years of being told you were nothing weren't erased in a matter of minutes, especially not in a home as traditional as Father ruled). So he drank the last dregs of his mimosa to wash down the papaya and gather his courage. Harry was no Gryffindor, but he wasn't a coward when it came to those he cared about.

"Father," Harry started, "You have been paying Poppy, Mopsy, Acorn, and Billa, correct?"

His father froze whilst cutting his sausage but quickly unfroze in attempts to act suave and guiltless -- but both Harry and Cousin Rhodesia could see otherwise.

Harry asked again: "Father, you have been paying the house-elves, yes?"

James' silence was answer enough.

"That's a weighty accusation," Cousin Rhodesia said, "I would have to report you, if that were the case."

"You wouldn't." Father said, continuing to slice his sausage into ribbons.