Bertie Wooster and the Trophy of Trouble
Dec. 30th, 2011 11:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trista_zevkiaTitle: Bertie Wooster and the Trophy of Trouble
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 2/2
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster x Harry Potter-universe
Characters/Pairing: Jeeves and Wooster
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH
Summary: for Indeed Sir, Yuletide fic exchange propt: Bertie was a rich wizard from an old wizarding family, and Jeeves was his very capable, very intelligent, not totally servile house elf.
Disclaimer: All this happened, more or less
Author's Notes: I have to go out and be sociable in real life tomorrow, so I am posting today. Unbeta'd, b.c it's long and I'm slow. Apologies, and let me know if you would like to beta this and I'll gladly repost a shiny new version;)
Time has passed since then, in dribs and drabs, dragging me around with it, from the empty flat to the Drones and back again. I’d planned on drowning my sorrows in the cooking of my Aunt Dahlia’s country home, hosting enough house elves that she had one strictly for cooking. I wondered if there was something wrong with me that I knew his name, Anaty or that he had a thing with Aunt D’s housemaid elf, Plink.
But somehow, with Meadows organizing my schedule, I found myself at another country estate that he’d apperated me to from Aunt D’s, surrounded by people I didn’t know. Tartan was there, chummy with the owners, who looked to be his parents, all decked out in matching kilts. He’d sent me several drinks, but avoided talking to me for a while. After Meadows appareated me here, I’d thrown myself on the nearest surface, and called for a drink. Not respectful to my hosts, certainly, but the only one who cared about that had walked out on me. Drinking to forget him, and the pain of his betrayal, wasn’t really working, but it was the only plan I could come up with, without him.
“Bertie, old chum, up you get.”
“Did you bring me a drink?” I’m approaching drunk, but the service at this party is very slow. Tartan doesn’t respond at first, putting an arm around my waist to help me to my feet.
“Walk with me Bertie, and I’ll get you another drink.”
I attempted to explain to Tartan that he was not an individual trustworthy enough to hang out with, as his resent absconding of Jeeves’ restorative without providing me the information I needed showed. But for the sake of getting properly smashed in order to avoid thinking of the bloomer I had made with Jeeves, I would trust him to provide me with a drink. All that came out was the word drink, in an embarrassingly hopeful tone.
Tartan pulls me to my feet, and I go with him. Instead of a drink, I’m presented with a young filly, black hair and green eyes. I need slick backed black hair and blue eyes that I have to look up to, not nose to nose. Pretty enough, but stern eyes and the makings of aunthood all about her.
“Bertie, this is my sister, Minny. She’s home from Hogwarts for the holidays.”
I blink at Tartan for a mo., trying to remember why she’s important. I feel she’s important, but can’t latched onto why just now.
“Bertie, she can fix your problem, with Jeeves.”
That does it, and I latch onto Minny like a drowning man might affix himself to a steady stern in the briny blue. “Minny, old thing, reverse that wish and I shall give unto you half my kingdom! Or all, if you need.”
“Yes, I did try and get in touch with you, but Tartan is clearly up to something. Where did he go?” She turns to look for him, but I grab at her, needing her attention.
“Somebody messed with your potion, so this Flannel guy didn’t want to fix it, thought it best if you tried.”
“Origins and intent of the original caster do matter in magic. I did receive an outstanding in potions, but it’s not my best skill. I made the prizes for the practice, but I’m sure I can alter the results.”
I open my mouth to thank her, but a magic chime causes silence across the room. Turning to look, I see Tartan, standing between his parents and the fireplace. Or, Tartan’s back was to the fireplace, and he parents were standing in front of him, and they were all facing the crowd in their house. Papa Tartan made a gesture, and everybody fortunate enough to have a glass got to see it refilled. Not that impressive a bit of magic, but to do it for a crowd this large was.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Papa Tartan was off, waffling about the season and such rot.
I mostly tuned him out, snatching two drinks off the tray carried by a passing house elf. Downing one, I held the other ready for the toast that would come eventually. I was turning to ask if Minny had gotten her one when my name was announced and wrenched my head back to Papa Tartan. There was applause, and cheering, and people looking at me. I turned, once again, to Minny.
Her face was stern, red and ready to kill, but her teeth sharpening aunt glare was focused on Tartan, and I, rather prudently, stepped out of the cross fire. She stalked over to him, and I went to hide behind some large planted pots in the room, hoping they’d be man-eaters, and not just rash causers.
I knew that look, well enough to guess what Papa Tartan had said, though the faces were reversed. Usually, when my engagements were announced, the bride-to-be-or-so-she-said was smug and happy. The family looked as if they were about the chew hornbeam wands and spit magic toothpicks, capable of picking apart one Bertram W. Wooster as if he was a delicacy that could only be transported in small bits. I’d finished my glass, and was wondering if I could sneak out of the party without it being noticed, when Minny found me again.
“That brother of mine, conspiring with my parents and I’m seriously considering turning them all into a silver tea service. Except, they like tea, so I think I’ll only ever make coffee in them, make them squirm.”
I made a nodding gesture and tried not to be noticed. Self-defense against those more powerful than me, especially when they are angry enough to shoot steam out of their wands. She reaches out and pats me on the shoulder, a bit harder than I would like.
“Don’t worry; I’m not mad at you. I just want my family to see that I have more to offer than marriage.”
“I want Jeeves.” It’s the first time I’ve said his name since he left, even if it is a tiny whisper. Apparently it still works, that house elf call to his master, as suddenly Jeeves is there. Tall and straight, he’s wearing the black suit of a muggle servant, holding a tray of drinks in his right hand, left hand behind his back. I’m no longer concerned with the drinks, any drinks, as I throw myself around him, hugging and swearing I’ll never let go.
“Who are you?” Minny asks in a tight voice, and I know I should respond, explain but I can’t, as that would involve letting Jeeves have enough air to breath. Paragon that he is, he endeavors to explain.
“I am Mr. Wooster’s servant, Jeeves.”
“That was the name of the house elf my potion harmed.”
“Harmed is not the proper word, madam. It changed me.”
“I can see that.” Minny sighs before speaking again. “Let me take those drinks, before he makes you spill them. He’s properly smashed, you know.”
“Yes, madam. Is there a particular reason for his current inebriation?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to get just as inebriated if I can’t figure out how to get out of our engagement.”
“Perhaps if you explained the situation to me, I might provide some small insight.”
“Tartan, my brother, wants to go to American and try his hand at raising chickens or something. He’s the oldest, so my parent’s won’t support him, financially, until I’m taken care of.”
Even in my condition, clinging to Jeeves, left ear listening to the thump of his human heart, I hear the condescension she puts into her words. Clearly, Minny doesn’t think she needs to be cared for.
“He wants me to marry. They want me to marry. What I want doesn’t involve marrying, so it doesn’t count. Tartan’s been telling them that Bertie contacted them and then me at Hogwarts because he’d been intrigued by Tartan’s descriptions. Tonight, Tartan heard Bertie promise me a reward for helping, and informed my parents it was a proposal. I want to finish my N.E.W.T.S. and teach.”
A sound, as if a bowtrickle had found a tree perfect for making wands from, and was settling in to raise a family, was the most wonderful thing in the world. Jeeves had an idea.
“If it is not too impudent of me, I might offer a suggestion, madam.”
“Offer away.”
“Perhaps you should find Mr. Wooster in a compromising position with another female. After such an affront, at the party where your engagement was announced, no one would find it strange if you were to call off the engagement. Such a public display would prevent your parents from demanding the ceremony go through, thwarting your brother’s plans.”
“I could even return early to Hogwarts, in a fit of broken hearted pique. Excellent, Jeeves!”
“Most kind, madam. Though I will need Mr. Wooster to let me go and find a suitable woman for him to kiss.”
“Jeeves, I’ll make this up to both of you.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but before I could formulate a response the rough fabric under my head shifted. It became softer, the shoulders and chest shrinking and rounding out. Forcing myself to look, I was faced with a human female. I gave an involuntary squeak, but didn’t move back, knowing it was a human female Jeeves I was wrapped around.
“Bertie!” The angry cry rent the air, as a powerful blast from Minny’s wand cleared away the plants we were hiding behind.
Everyone turned to her voice, to where I was now exposed, and clinging to a human female.
“Bertram Wooster, how dare you trifle with my affections like this! My parents welcome you into our home, allow our love, and you can’t tell me from another girl at our engagement party. You cad! You bounder, you’ve broken my heart, so I’m breaking this engagement!”
Minny rushes away, a hand flung dramatically over her eyes, but I think I’m the only one to notice she’s not crying. Instead, she’s left the room, left me to face an entire crowd angry at me for breaking her heart. I clutch a little tighter to Jeeves.
“Sir,” he whispers in my ear, making me forget about the rest of the world. “Take the floo network to the Drones. I will come when you call.”
He pushes me away, a bit of magic behind his shove, and he runs towards the large doors overlooking the garden, still dress as a filly. I totter over to the fireplace, knowing that all I have to do is get through it and I can call Jeeves back to me.
“Sorry about the disruption, folks. I, well, dash it all, never meant for things to end this way. Nor did I really mean for things to begin this way, but I suppose all things have a beginning and an end. Don’t they Tartan? Isn’t that why you begged me to court your sister, so you could leave England, a beginning of sorts?”
Folks are turning to look at Tartan, so I get a second of inattention to grab some floo powder, throw it in the fire and speak. “The Drones, London!”
That place is welcoming and loud when I get there, even with most of the members off to celebrate Christmas with their families. I turn back to the fireplace I just came out of, and floo myself to my apartment, wanting to tell Jeeves all the things I’d held back while he’d been gone in the privacy of my welcoming flat. Instead, I emerge into an apartment even tenser than the party I’d just ruined.
Meadows is floating, so he can look Jeeves in his, male, human eye. All the light in the room seems to come from them, even as all the heat is drawn to them.
“I know your kind, Jeeves, you freak of nature.”
I want to point out that Jeeves’ human form is my fault, but Jeeves answers first. He’s angry, in a way I’ve never seen him, angry and ready to fight.
“I do my duties. You are stealing from Mr. Wooster and neglecting your duties to him. You are the disgrace to the house elf species.”
“You think you’re better than us, think you should get to be a being. Reading when you have work to do!”
“I read on my own time.”
“There should always be work to do, which is why house elves exist.”
“Not if you do it right the first time.”
Jeeves must have insulted Meadows with that, because Meadows is gathering magical energy, moving and throwing in an instant.
A quick catch and throw, and Jeeves diverts the ball of magical energy. He follows it with his head, sees me standing there, and realizes just before I do that the energy is going to hit me. A loud crack, a bit of quick apperation, and Jeeves is standing before me, taking the magic to his chest. He hangs in the air, before slowly dropping, sagging ungracefully to the ground. I rush to catch him, try and land him gently.
“Meadows, go get Minny!” I hear myself shouting, not really sure what I want her for but knowing she’ll have a better idea of what to do than I do. I have a great respect for brainy people, I just know I’ll never be one.
“Bertie?” A second of disorientation from the forced apperation, and then she’s kneeling beside Jeeves. “What happened?”
“Him and Meadows were fighting, Jeeves put a bit of the English on the magic, but saw it was going to hit me, took it to his chest.”
“House elf territorial dispute, that’s why there are so few places were large number of them congregate.”
I feel like shouting at her, as this isn’t something I care about, but I feel like she’s talking to keep me calm why she thinks through things.
“Bertie, you have to make Meadows do a lot of tasks, drain his energy.”
I’m looking at Jeeves, and I follow her words, getting inspiration from the brain cradled in my lap. “Meadows, go to my Aunt Dahlia’s house, and start bringing my things back here, one item at a time.”
Meadows mutters something like confirmation at me, and disapperates.
Minny makes herself comfortable on the floor beside Jeeves and talks, now to calm me down. “Meadows put his energy into hurting Jeeves. If we wear him out, he’ll take back that energy, releasing Jeeves from the spell.”
“Is Jeeves all right?”
“He will be, once Meadows relents. The spell is just making Jeeves immobile, so he can’t go to their owner and get Meadows freed. The winning house elf will use this time to ingratiate himself to the owner, so he can have the other freed. Meadows didn’t count on how much you care about Jeeves.”
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, ignoring the sound of appiration and disappiration from my bedroom, hoping that’s just Meadows doing as I instructed.
“Yes. How long have you loved him?”
“I adored him as a house elf, he was the missing piece in my life. But when I saw him human, I realized there was one thing missing from my life, and he still filled the role.”
“Then why did you want the effects reverse so bad?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh.” Minny offers in a tiny voice, probably understanding more than I do from my comments.
“I have finished, master.” Meadows grumbles, bowing to the carpet.
“Go get my trophy for best muggle costume.” Meadows complies, and I hand the thing to Minny to study.
“Make us tea.” It’s not much, but I need something. I think about it until he comes back with the tray, and serves us. “Now go to China and harvest enough tea leaves to make twenty pots of tea.”
He pops out, and I share tea with Minny in silence, while she prods the trophy with her wand. When Meadows returns, I still haven’t thought of anything, so I pass the elf.
“Do what Minny says.”
She gives me a stern gaze. “I’ve never liked that nickname. Meadows, you’re going to take me home, and then I’ll tell you what to take to Hogwarts for me. Once piece at a time. Goodnight, Bertie, it was a pleasure breaking off my engagement with you.”
“Anytime.” I offer with a weak smile, only to get another stern glare as Meadows apperates them away.
Not knowing what else to do, I start to sing over Jeeves’ frozen body. I’ve worked through all the tunes I know won’t hurt Jeeves’ delicate sensibilities, and I’m considering muggle tunes when Meadows reappears. I don’t know what Minny did to him, but he looks exhausted. His leathery hand reaches toward Jeeves, and I force myself not to knock that hand away. When Meadows pulls his hand back, it crackles with energy, restoring him to his former, unexhausted self. Only then does he pull out the parchment and hand it to me.
Bertie,
I figured it out. The spell’s orientation was weakened by Tartan’s clumsy efforts at using my work for his own good. When you prodded it, the magic responded to the most heartfelt wish in the room. Speak that wish to this enchanted parchment, and tell it to reverse the effects or make them permanent. The two of you have to choose.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Caithness, Scottish Highlands
“Meadows, bring me all the items you stole from me.” If he hadn’t stolen from me, he could protest the direct order. Instead he disappears, returning with all my fruitiest socks and dumping them beside me. Jeeves is stirring on my lap, but I force myself to concentrate on Meadows. “Meadows, you will never tell anybody about me, or your time with me, or anything you learned about me. You will also never speak to Jeeves in that manner again, or at all without my permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes master.” Meadows grumbles, and lowers his head to the ground in a show of contrition. I know he’s lying about the contrition.
“These orders hold you, even after you are free. Am I right, Jeeves?”
“Yes, Sir, you are correct.” His voice is soft, and he’s not able to force me to let him go just yet.
Weak, but recovering, and I’m able to reach out and grab a sock. Cheerful silk number in chartreuse with lime polka dots that Jeeves always flinched at the sight of. I fling it at Meadows, and it lands on his large, useless head. “You’re socked, Meadows.”
A crack, and Meadows diapperates, leaving me alone with Jeeves at long last. With his strength mostly returned, Jeeves sits up, prying himself away from me. I fight the urge to pick at the carpet, and force myself to look him in the eye.
“Sincerely, Jeeves.”
“Sir?”
“Why didn’t you sign your letter to me?”
“Sir, I believed you would know who it was from.”
“I did, yes, but the rules of writing letters and such say you’re supposed to sign it. For you not to follow a rule like that, there was a reason. Will you tell me?”
“You can order me to do so, Sir.”
“Dash it! I don’t want to. I want you to stay with me, stay human and let me love you, because you want to.”
“Sir, that’s why I couldn’t sign the letter. If you would just order me to do things, it would be so much easier.”
“What would?”
“Sir, you’ve treated me with kindness and respect ever since I’ve known you. It didn’t take me long to determine the trophy had granted my wish, instead of yours. I wanted to show you how much I cared for you, how much I wanted you to be happy with just me. I was afraid you’d wish for a wife or companion and it wouldn’t be me.”
“Oh, Jeeves, what rot! I was perfectly happy as we were, how could you know everything about me and not know that?”
“How could you name the emotions I was feeling before I could, and not know I was devoted to you, Sir?”
“House elves are just that way, aren’t they?”
“No, Sir. We are workers, but our respect must be earned. You handed me clothing the first week I worked for you.”
“You mean you could have left at any time?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You stayed, and put up with me, because you wanted to?”
“At first I was afraid of ever finding another master, but soon enough I was devoted to you. I could not sign the letter Sir, without signing it ‘eternally yours’.”
“Are you really?”
“In whatever way you want me, Sir.”
“Jeeves, I want you happy. I will admit to wanting to share my bed with human you, but I won’t order you to do that, even if I could.”
“I know, Sir. If you did order me to do so, I could ignore the order. I could take it as a sign that you didn’t really care about me and leave.”
“No! I don’t care what form you take or what you do to me or call me, but you must never leave me. I’ll pay you and shower you with gifts, whatever it takes.”
“I left to make sure what I felt was real, and not just a reaction to the way you were looking at me, Sir.”
“I tried not to, to stare and devour you with my eyes like some cad.”
“Which made it even harder not to give you what you wanted, Sir.”
“And forced you to leave.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Have you decided which form you’re going to take?”
“I have one more experiment to conduct before I chose, Bertram.”
Those rummy dreams that had abandoned me when Jeeves did, lurched back up into my throat, forming a lump that cut off my breathing, just from the sound of my name in his voice.
“I would like to kiss you, Bertram, but I must ask for your patience. Kissing is not something house elves do; the noses often get in the way.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, and maybe later I’ll wonder about house elf mating tactics, but right now I just lurch up to my knees. A shuffle forward and I’m close enough to kiss Jeeves, but unable to move that last few inches. He understands, reaches a long, strong hand around the back of my head and pulls us together.
I tilt my head a little, he doesn’t. I move my lips, until his move against me. I’ve never been called a great kisser, but I’ve clearly got the experience here, so I have to take the lead. When his mouth falls open, I slide my tongue into it. Then, it’s magic like I’ve never known, something that comes easily to this Hufflepuff. It’s pulling us in and together, making the whole world bright and cheerful, magical even.
Jeeves grunts a breath and I pull back, afraid he isn’t feeling the magic, only to notice I’ve pushed his back to the floor. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was pushing you around. Are you quite all right, dear thing?”
“Sir, may I have that letter from Miss McGonagall?”
“Oh, yes.” It takes me a minute to figure out where I’d left it, drag it from beside where I was sitting and hand it to him. I don’t let go just yet, a question having formed in my mind. “You’ve decided then?”
“Sir, I wished to find a way to make you even happier. I found myself human, and unsure of how to proceed. Now I know how to do that, and I wish to be human for as long as you want me.”
“Forever, Jeeves, absolutely forever.”
The parchment flares, smoke clouding the air between us. When it clears, Jeeves is smiling at me, his smile reaching his human eyes. He’s reaching for me, and I reach back, and suddenly the magic is back. Jeeves is under me, warm and moving, hugging me to him and those dreams are back along with the need to make a mess.
“Jeeves, you should shove me away before I ruin your clothes. Might have to wear those until we can buy some more.”
Jeeves does something, and suddenly we’re both naked and even closer than before.
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did I, Bertram.”
“Motivation, I guess.”
“Indeed, Sir.” He practically purrs it at me, and I lose all capacity for talking.
I share this info by sealing our lips together, intending to never break the kiss. Jeeves grabs my wand arm, so I realize I’m still wearing the wand holster. Jeeves points my wand at himself and mutters something. I feel the magic, but I’m not sure what it does or what spell Jeeves wanted. When he rolls us so I’m on the bottom, I don’t care, lost in a more primal magic.
Jeeves sits up, adjusting us, touching more of me than my skin, though what he does touch is covered in skin. But before I can do more than moan with need, Jeeves slides that skin covered bit of me into him, which is magically softened and ready. Riding me, kissing me, Jeeves is driving me into pleasure and all I can do is thrust back and try to pull his lips in for a kiss. When he drives me over that edge of pleasure, it puts the tingles of my spine tinglers to shame.
I’m wrapped in his arms, when I’m next aware of anything, still on the living room floor. I look to his face, and he’s staring at me with wide open surprise. Something very much like smug satisfaction takes up a purring residence in my stomach, knowing I put that expression on Jeeves’ face. Maybe not just me, so much as his, well, his and mine and our first sexual experience. Whatever, I’m still very happy to see him like this, and I press a kiss to his jaw.
“Best Christmas ever, Jeeves.”
“Indeed, Bertram.”
He’s not trying for an emotion free response, and my name in his voice still makes my body respond.
“As soon as I can walk, we’re going to my, our, bedroom so you can teach me that spell.”
“Very good, Bertram. It may take lots of practice.”
“I certainly hope so.” For once in my life, my inability to do anything right the first time is making me very happy. And from the way Jeeves is softly stroking my flanks, he’s going to be a very enthusiastic instructor. What kind of present am I going to get tomorrow, what with it being Christmas day? Or, what wonderful thing can I give Jeeves in the morning? I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure we’ll need new bed sheets before the new year starts.
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 2/2
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster x Harry Potter-universe
Characters/Pairing: Jeeves and Wooster
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH
Summary: for Indeed Sir, Yuletide fic exchange propt: Bertie was a rich wizard from an old wizarding family, and Jeeves was his very capable, very intelligent, not totally servile house elf.
Disclaimer: All this happened, more or less
Author's Notes: I have to go out and be sociable in real life tomorrow, so I am posting today. Unbeta'd, b.c it's long and I'm slow. Apologies, and let me know if you would like to beta this and I'll gladly repost a shiny new version;)
Time has passed since then, in dribs and drabs, dragging me around with it, from the empty flat to the Drones and back again. I’d planned on drowning my sorrows in the cooking of my Aunt Dahlia’s country home, hosting enough house elves that she had one strictly for cooking. I wondered if there was something wrong with me that I knew his name, Anaty or that he had a thing with Aunt D’s housemaid elf, Plink.
But somehow, with Meadows organizing my schedule, I found myself at another country estate that he’d apperated me to from Aunt D’s, surrounded by people I didn’t know. Tartan was there, chummy with the owners, who looked to be his parents, all decked out in matching kilts. He’d sent me several drinks, but avoided talking to me for a while. After Meadows appareated me here, I’d thrown myself on the nearest surface, and called for a drink. Not respectful to my hosts, certainly, but the only one who cared about that had walked out on me. Drinking to forget him, and the pain of his betrayal, wasn’t really working, but it was the only plan I could come up with, without him.
“Bertie, old chum, up you get.”
“Did you bring me a drink?” I’m approaching drunk, but the service at this party is very slow. Tartan doesn’t respond at first, putting an arm around my waist to help me to my feet.
“Walk with me Bertie, and I’ll get you another drink.”
I attempted to explain to Tartan that he was not an individual trustworthy enough to hang out with, as his resent absconding of Jeeves’ restorative without providing me the information I needed showed. But for the sake of getting properly smashed in order to avoid thinking of the bloomer I had made with Jeeves, I would trust him to provide me with a drink. All that came out was the word drink, in an embarrassingly hopeful tone.
Tartan pulls me to my feet, and I go with him. Instead of a drink, I’m presented with a young filly, black hair and green eyes. I need slick backed black hair and blue eyes that I have to look up to, not nose to nose. Pretty enough, but stern eyes and the makings of aunthood all about her.
“Bertie, this is my sister, Minny. She’s home from Hogwarts for the holidays.”
I blink at Tartan for a mo., trying to remember why she’s important. I feel she’s important, but can’t latched onto why just now.
“Bertie, she can fix your problem, with Jeeves.”
That does it, and I latch onto Minny like a drowning man might affix himself to a steady stern in the briny blue. “Minny, old thing, reverse that wish and I shall give unto you half my kingdom! Or all, if you need.”
“Yes, I did try and get in touch with you, but Tartan is clearly up to something. Where did he go?” She turns to look for him, but I grab at her, needing her attention.
“Somebody messed with your potion, so this Flannel guy didn’t want to fix it, thought it best if you tried.”
“Origins and intent of the original caster do matter in magic. I did receive an outstanding in potions, but it’s not my best skill. I made the prizes for the practice, but I’m sure I can alter the results.”
I open my mouth to thank her, but a magic chime causes silence across the room. Turning to look, I see Tartan, standing between his parents and the fireplace. Or, Tartan’s back was to the fireplace, and he parents were standing in front of him, and they were all facing the crowd in their house. Papa Tartan made a gesture, and everybody fortunate enough to have a glass got to see it refilled. Not that impressive a bit of magic, but to do it for a crowd this large was.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Papa Tartan was off, waffling about the season and such rot.
I mostly tuned him out, snatching two drinks off the tray carried by a passing house elf. Downing one, I held the other ready for the toast that would come eventually. I was turning to ask if Minny had gotten her one when my name was announced and wrenched my head back to Papa Tartan. There was applause, and cheering, and people looking at me. I turned, once again, to Minny.
Her face was stern, red and ready to kill, but her teeth sharpening aunt glare was focused on Tartan, and I, rather prudently, stepped out of the cross fire. She stalked over to him, and I went to hide behind some large planted pots in the room, hoping they’d be man-eaters, and not just rash causers.
I knew that look, well enough to guess what Papa Tartan had said, though the faces were reversed. Usually, when my engagements were announced, the bride-to-be-or-so-she-said was smug and happy. The family looked as if they were about the chew hornbeam wands and spit magic toothpicks, capable of picking apart one Bertram W. Wooster as if he was a delicacy that could only be transported in small bits. I’d finished my glass, and was wondering if I could sneak out of the party without it being noticed, when Minny found me again.
“That brother of mine, conspiring with my parents and I’m seriously considering turning them all into a silver tea service. Except, they like tea, so I think I’ll only ever make coffee in them, make them squirm.”
I made a nodding gesture and tried not to be noticed. Self-defense against those more powerful than me, especially when they are angry enough to shoot steam out of their wands. She reaches out and pats me on the shoulder, a bit harder than I would like.
“Don’t worry; I’m not mad at you. I just want my family to see that I have more to offer than marriage.”
“I want Jeeves.” It’s the first time I’ve said his name since he left, even if it is a tiny whisper. Apparently it still works, that house elf call to his master, as suddenly Jeeves is there. Tall and straight, he’s wearing the black suit of a muggle servant, holding a tray of drinks in his right hand, left hand behind his back. I’m no longer concerned with the drinks, any drinks, as I throw myself around him, hugging and swearing I’ll never let go.
“Who are you?” Minny asks in a tight voice, and I know I should respond, explain but I can’t, as that would involve letting Jeeves have enough air to breath. Paragon that he is, he endeavors to explain.
“I am Mr. Wooster’s servant, Jeeves.”
“That was the name of the house elf my potion harmed.”
“Harmed is not the proper word, madam. It changed me.”
“I can see that.” Minny sighs before speaking again. “Let me take those drinks, before he makes you spill them. He’s properly smashed, you know.”
“Yes, madam. Is there a particular reason for his current inebriation?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to get just as inebriated if I can’t figure out how to get out of our engagement.”
“Perhaps if you explained the situation to me, I might provide some small insight.”
“Tartan, my brother, wants to go to American and try his hand at raising chickens or something. He’s the oldest, so my parent’s won’t support him, financially, until I’m taken care of.”
Even in my condition, clinging to Jeeves, left ear listening to the thump of his human heart, I hear the condescension she puts into her words. Clearly, Minny doesn’t think she needs to be cared for.
“He wants me to marry. They want me to marry. What I want doesn’t involve marrying, so it doesn’t count. Tartan’s been telling them that Bertie contacted them and then me at Hogwarts because he’d been intrigued by Tartan’s descriptions. Tonight, Tartan heard Bertie promise me a reward for helping, and informed my parents it was a proposal. I want to finish my N.E.W.T.S. and teach.”
A sound, as if a bowtrickle had found a tree perfect for making wands from, and was settling in to raise a family, was the most wonderful thing in the world. Jeeves had an idea.
“If it is not too impudent of me, I might offer a suggestion, madam.”
“Offer away.”
“Perhaps you should find Mr. Wooster in a compromising position with another female. After such an affront, at the party where your engagement was announced, no one would find it strange if you were to call off the engagement. Such a public display would prevent your parents from demanding the ceremony go through, thwarting your brother’s plans.”
“I could even return early to Hogwarts, in a fit of broken hearted pique. Excellent, Jeeves!”
“Most kind, madam. Though I will need Mr. Wooster to let me go and find a suitable woman for him to kiss.”
“Jeeves, I’ll make this up to both of you.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but before I could formulate a response the rough fabric under my head shifted. It became softer, the shoulders and chest shrinking and rounding out. Forcing myself to look, I was faced with a human female. I gave an involuntary squeak, but didn’t move back, knowing it was a human female Jeeves I was wrapped around.
“Bertie!” The angry cry rent the air, as a powerful blast from Minny’s wand cleared away the plants we were hiding behind.
Everyone turned to her voice, to where I was now exposed, and clinging to a human female.
“Bertram Wooster, how dare you trifle with my affections like this! My parents welcome you into our home, allow our love, and you can’t tell me from another girl at our engagement party. You cad! You bounder, you’ve broken my heart, so I’m breaking this engagement!”
Minny rushes away, a hand flung dramatically over her eyes, but I think I’m the only one to notice she’s not crying. Instead, she’s left the room, left me to face an entire crowd angry at me for breaking her heart. I clutch a little tighter to Jeeves.
“Sir,” he whispers in my ear, making me forget about the rest of the world. “Take the floo network to the Drones. I will come when you call.”
He pushes me away, a bit of magic behind his shove, and he runs towards the large doors overlooking the garden, still dress as a filly. I totter over to the fireplace, knowing that all I have to do is get through it and I can call Jeeves back to me.
“Sorry about the disruption, folks. I, well, dash it all, never meant for things to end this way. Nor did I really mean for things to begin this way, but I suppose all things have a beginning and an end. Don’t they Tartan? Isn’t that why you begged me to court your sister, so you could leave England, a beginning of sorts?”
Folks are turning to look at Tartan, so I get a second of inattention to grab some floo powder, throw it in the fire and speak. “The Drones, London!”
That place is welcoming and loud when I get there, even with most of the members off to celebrate Christmas with their families. I turn back to the fireplace I just came out of, and floo myself to my apartment, wanting to tell Jeeves all the things I’d held back while he’d been gone in the privacy of my welcoming flat. Instead, I emerge into an apartment even tenser than the party I’d just ruined.
Meadows is floating, so he can look Jeeves in his, male, human eye. All the light in the room seems to come from them, even as all the heat is drawn to them.
“I know your kind, Jeeves, you freak of nature.”
I want to point out that Jeeves’ human form is my fault, but Jeeves answers first. He’s angry, in a way I’ve never seen him, angry and ready to fight.
“I do my duties. You are stealing from Mr. Wooster and neglecting your duties to him. You are the disgrace to the house elf species.”
“You think you’re better than us, think you should get to be a being. Reading when you have work to do!”
“I read on my own time.”
“There should always be work to do, which is why house elves exist.”
“Not if you do it right the first time.”
Jeeves must have insulted Meadows with that, because Meadows is gathering magical energy, moving and throwing in an instant.
A quick catch and throw, and Jeeves diverts the ball of magical energy. He follows it with his head, sees me standing there, and realizes just before I do that the energy is going to hit me. A loud crack, a bit of quick apperation, and Jeeves is standing before me, taking the magic to his chest. He hangs in the air, before slowly dropping, sagging ungracefully to the ground. I rush to catch him, try and land him gently.
“Meadows, go get Minny!” I hear myself shouting, not really sure what I want her for but knowing she’ll have a better idea of what to do than I do. I have a great respect for brainy people, I just know I’ll never be one.
“Bertie?” A second of disorientation from the forced apperation, and then she’s kneeling beside Jeeves. “What happened?”
“Him and Meadows were fighting, Jeeves put a bit of the English on the magic, but saw it was going to hit me, took it to his chest.”
“House elf territorial dispute, that’s why there are so few places were large number of them congregate.”
I feel like shouting at her, as this isn’t something I care about, but I feel like she’s talking to keep me calm why she thinks through things.
“Bertie, you have to make Meadows do a lot of tasks, drain his energy.”
I’m looking at Jeeves, and I follow her words, getting inspiration from the brain cradled in my lap. “Meadows, go to my Aunt Dahlia’s house, and start bringing my things back here, one item at a time.”
Meadows mutters something like confirmation at me, and disapperates.
Minny makes herself comfortable on the floor beside Jeeves and talks, now to calm me down. “Meadows put his energy into hurting Jeeves. If we wear him out, he’ll take back that energy, releasing Jeeves from the spell.”
“Is Jeeves all right?”
“He will be, once Meadows relents. The spell is just making Jeeves immobile, so he can’t go to their owner and get Meadows freed. The winning house elf will use this time to ingratiate himself to the owner, so he can have the other freed. Meadows didn’t count on how much you care about Jeeves.”
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, ignoring the sound of appiration and disappiration from my bedroom, hoping that’s just Meadows doing as I instructed.
“Yes. How long have you loved him?”
“I adored him as a house elf, he was the missing piece in my life. But when I saw him human, I realized there was one thing missing from my life, and he still filled the role.”
“Then why did you want the effects reverse so bad?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh.” Minny offers in a tiny voice, probably understanding more than I do from my comments.
“I have finished, master.” Meadows grumbles, bowing to the carpet.
“Go get my trophy for best muggle costume.” Meadows complies, and I hand the thing to Minny to study.
“Make us tea.” It’s not much, but I need something. I think about it until he comes back with the tray, and serves us. “Now go to China and harvest enough tea leaves to make twenty pots of tea.”
He pops out, and I share tea with Minny in silence, while she prods the trophy with her wand. When Meadows returns, I still haven’t thought of anything, so I pass the elf.
“Do what Minny says.”
She gives me a stern gaze. “I’ve never liked that nickname. Meadows, you’re going to take me home, and then I’ll tell you what to take to Hogwarts for me. Once piece at a time. Goodnight, Bertie, it was a pleasure breaking off my engagement with you.”
“Anytime.” I offer with a weak smile, only to get another stern glare as Meadows apperates them away.
Not knowing what else to do, I start to sing over Jeeves’ frozen body. I’ve worked through all the tunes I know won’t hurt Jeeves’ delicate sensibilities, and I’m considering muggle tunes when Meadows reappears. I don’t know what Minny did to him, but he looks exhausted. His leathery hand reaches toward Jeeves, and I force myself not to knock that hand away. When Meadows pulls his hand back, it crackles with energy, restoring him to his former, unexhausted self. Only then does he pull out the parchment and hand it to me.
Bertie,
I figured it out. The spell’s orientation was weakened by Tartan’s clumsy efforts at using my work for his own good. When you prodded it, the magic responded to the most heartfelt wish in the room. Speak that wish to this enchanted parchment, and tell it to reverse the effects or make them permanent. The two of you have to choose.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Caithness, Scottish Highlands
“Meadows, bring me all the items you stole from me.” If he hadn’t stolen from me, he could protest the direct order. Instead he disappears, returning with all my fruitiest socks and dumping them beside me. Jeeves is stirring on my lap, but I force myself to concentrate on Meadows. “Meadows, you will never tell anybody about me, or your time with me, or anything you learned about me. You will also never speak to Jeeves in that manner again, or at all without my permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes master.” Meadows grumbles, and lowers his head to the ground in a show of contrition. I know he’s lying about the contrition.
“These orders hold you, even after you are free. Am I right, Jeeves?”
“Yes, Sir, you are correct.” His voice is soft, and he’s not able to force me to let him go just yet.
Weak, but recovering, and I’m able to reach out and grab a sock. Cheerful silk number in chartreuse with lime polka dots that Jeeves always flinched at the sight of. I fling it at Meadows, and it lands on his large, useless head. “You’re socked, Meadows.”
A crack, and Meadows diapperates, leaving me alone with Jeeves at long last. With his strength mostly returned, Jeeves sits up, prying himself away from me. I fight the urge to pick at the carpet, and force myself to look him in the eye.
“Sincerely, Jeeves.”
“Sir?”
“Why didn’t you sign your letter to me?”
“Sir, I believed you would know who it was from.”
“I did, yes, but the rules of writing letters and such say you’re supposed to sign it. For you not to follow a rule like that, there was a reason. Will you tell me?”
“You can order me to do so, Sir.”
“Dash it! I don’t want to. I want you to stay with me, stay human and let me love you, because you want to.”
“Sir, that’s why I couldn’t sign the letter. If you would just order me to do things, it would be so much easier.”
“What would?”
“Sir, you’ve treated me with kindness and respect ever since I’ve known you. It didn’t take me long to determine the trophy had granted my wish, instead of yours. I wanted to show you how much I cared for you, how much I wanted you to be happy with just me. I was afraid you’d wish for a wife or companion and it wouldn’t be me.”
“Oh, Jeeves, what rot! I was perfectly happy as we were, how could you know everything about me and not know that?”
“How could you name the emotions I was feeling before I could, and not know I was devoted to you, Sir?”
“House elves are just that way, aren’t they?”
“No, Sir. We are workers, but our respect must be earned. You handed me clothing the first week I worked for you.”
“You mean you could have left at any time?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You stayed, and put up with me, because you wanted to?”
“At first I was afraid of ever finding another master, but soon enough I was devoted to you. I could not sign the letter Sir, without signing it ‘eternally yours’.”
“Are you really?”
“In whatever way you want me, Sir.”
“Jeeves, I want you happy. I will admit to wanting to share my bed with human you, but I won’t order you to do that, even if I could.”
“I know, Sir. If you did order me to do so, I could ignore the order. I could take it as a sign that you didn’t really care about me and leave.”
“No! I don’t care what form you take or what you do to me or call me, but you must never leave me. I’ll pay you and shower you with gifts, whatever it takes.”
“I left to make sure what I felt was real, and not just a reaction to the way you were looking at me, Sir.”
“I tried not to, to stare and devour you with my eyes like some cad.”
“Which made it even harder not to give you what you wanted, Sir.”
“And forced you to leave.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Have you decided which form you’re going to take?”
“I have one more experiment to conduct before I chose, Bertram.”
Those rummy dreams that had abandoned me when Jeeves did, lurched back up into my throat, forming a lump that cut off my breathing, just from the sound of my name in his voice.
“I would like to kiss you, Bertram, but I must ask for your patience. Kissing is not something house elves do; the noses often get in the way.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, and maybe later I’ll wonder about house elf mating tactics, but right now I just lurch up to my knees. A shuffle forward and I’m close enough to kiss Jeeves, but unable to move that last few inches. He understands, reaches a long, strong hand around the back of my head and pulls us together.
I tilt my head a little, he doesn’t. I move my lips, until his move against me. I’ve never been called a great kisser, but I’ve clearly got the experience here, so I have to take the lead. When his mouth falls open, I slide my tongue into it. Then, it’s magic like I’ve never known, something that comes easily to this Hufflepuff. It’s pulling us in and together, making the whole world bright and cheerful, magical even.
Jeeves grunts a breath and I pull back, afraid he isn’t feeling the magic, only to notice I’ve pushed his back to the floor. “Sorry, didn’t realize I was pushing you around. Are you quite all right, dear thing?”
“Sir, may I have that letter from Miss McGonagall?”
“Oh, yes.” It takes me a minute to figure out where I’d left it, drag it from beside where I was sitting and hand it to him. I don’t let go just yet, a question having formed in my mind. “You’ve decided then?”
“Sir, I wished to find a way to make you even happier. I found myself human, and unsure of how to proceed. Now I know how to do that, and I wish to be human for as long as you want me.”
“Forever, Jeeves, absolutely forever.”
The parchment flares, smoke clouding the air between us. When it clears, Jeeves is smiling at me, his smile reaching his human eyes. He’s reaching for me, and I reach back, and suddenly the magic is back. Jeeves is under me, warm and moving, hugging me to him and those dreams are back along with the need to make a mess.
“Jeeves, you should shove me away before I ruin your clothes. Might have to wear those until we can buy some more.”
Jeeves does something, and suddenly we’re both naked and even closer than before.
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did I, Bertram.”
“Motivation, I guess.”
“Indeed, Sir.” He practically purrs it at me, and I lose all capacity for talking.
I share this info by sealing our lips together, intending to never break the kiss. Jeeves grabs my wand arm, so I realize I’m still wearing the wand holster. Jeeves points my wand at himself and mutters something. I feel the magic, but I’m not sure what it does or what spell Jeeves wanted. When he rolls us so I’m on the bottom, I don’t care, lost in a more primal magic.
Jeeves sits up, adjusting us, touching more of me than my skin, though what he does touch is covered in skin. But before I can do more than moan with need, Jeeves slides that skin covered bit of me into him, which is magically softened and ready. Riding me, kissing me, Jeeves is driving me into pleasure and all I can do is thrust back and try to pull his lips in for a kiss. When he drives me over that edge of pleasure, it puts the tingles of my spine tinglers to shame.
I’m wrapped in his arms, when I’m next aware of anything, still on the living room floor. I look to his face, and he’s staring at me with wide open surprise. Something very much like smug satisfaction takes up a purring residence in my stomach, knowing I put that expression on Jeeves’ face. Maybe not just me, so much as his, well, his and mine and our first sexual experience. Whatever, I’m still very happy to see him like this, and I press a kiss to his jaw.
“Best Christmas ever, Jeeves.”
“Indeed, Bertram.”
He’s not trying for an emotion free response, and my name in his voice still makes my body respond.
“As soon as I can walk, we’re going to my, our, bedroom so you can teach me that spell.”
“Very good, Bertram. It may take lots of practice.”
“I certainly hope so.” For once in my life, my inability to do anything right the first time is making me very happy. And from the way Jeeves is softly stroking my flanks, he’s going to be a very enthusiastic instructor. What kind of present am I going to get tomorrow, what with it being Christmas day? Or, what wonderful thing can I give Jeeves in the morning? I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure we’ll need new bed sheets before the new year starts.
