Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

22 July, 1995 - Weasleys

The Weasley family arrived with Dumbledore just before dinner time that day and it was far from a quiet affair. Lavinia was in the kitchen, attempting to relieve the stress that had been building up all day long, by cooking. This was working, to an extent, and the smell of roasting chicken and vegetables was rather soothing. But she also couldn't manage to forget who exactly she was cooking for and the reality of that was an ever so slightly unpleasant truth she held just at bay as best she could. Which, it turned out, wasn't very well.

It didn't help that Lavinia was fabulously sleep deprived and didn't at all care what Remus had said: she needed more coffee. Not that she was going to have any because Remus would give her a thorough talking to and she wasn't in the mood for that at all. Besides which he was right and all the caffeine would accomplish would be a short lived solution and then a crash that would leave her even more exhausted.

All of this boiled down to the simple fact that Lavinia was tired and stressed and desperately hoping that Dumbledore's presence would be enough to smooth everything with the Weasleys over. Even if she knew that it wasn't just the inevitable confrontation with Mrs. Weasley that she was dreading.

It was also the fact that this house was about to be loud and crowded and sure, maybe it would be bright and lively and joyful, but Lavinia had never managed particularly well with that sort of loud, bustling happy. It always left her rather drained and hollow and she had learned over the years that when she was happiest was when the world was quiet and the silence was comfortable and the only people around were those she loved and loved dearly. Which wasn't to say that Lavinia didn't enjoy the occasional larger gathering because she did. But it was occasional. And usually only involved people she already knew rather well. Not strangers.

So Lavinia stuck to the kitchen nearly all afternoon, hoping to hold on to the easy calm of the past few days. Hoping the new arrivals wouldn't break that too quickly.

Unfortunately for perhaps everyone involved, from the moment the Weasleys arrived, general chaos broke out, which seemed to Lavinia to be a sign for how the rest of this evening would go.

It started with a knock. Which shouldn't have meant much except that this was the Black house and the portrait of Walburga was screaming before anyone had the chance to do more than heave a sigh and make a mental note to tell Dumbledore to spread the word not the knock on the bloody door because sweet Morgana those shrieks were bloodcurdling.

It was Remus who opened the door, which Lavinia supposed was good as several of the many people piled on the front step seemed to know him, greeting him rather fondly as 'Professor Lupin' while Sirius and Lavinia snapped the curtains shut over his mother's portrait, both of them making no effort whatsoever to pretend they weren't listening to every word said at the front door.

Once the curtains were closed, however, and the screaming had stopped, Lavinia met Sirius's eyes for a brief moment and found him sending her what might have been a reassuring look. She returned with a tense little smile and turned away, towards the hallway where people were still chattering softly.

Truth be told, Sirius's reassurance did help a bit, if only because she was reasonably sure Sirius at least knew that she had never been good with crowds. Which maybe meant she would have at least one person who understood that her smiles might be a little forced tonight and her heart might not be entirely in it. Not because she didn't want to be a good hostess. Not because she didn't care that these new arrivals were comfortable and happy, but simply because she was already tired. And being surrounded by so many people, expected to smile and laugh and pretend how she felt and who she was... that would only make the exhaustion worse.

For now, however, Lavinia stayed back at the junction of the hallways, waiting for the guests to approach and trying - and failing - to distinguish one conversation from the other as they all chartered away.