her majesty

grayson-parke:

Grayson turned at the sound of her voice, letting loose a deep sigh in relief. He’d been looking for her since it had gone dark, his anxiety growing with every second he couldn’t find her. He held her tight, stroking her hair and letting himself relish the moment for a second. “It’s okay.” He murmured, although he wasn’t sure he even believed it himself.

He furrowed his brows, the pit of worry in his stomach returning at her words. “I’m sure his phone just died, have you tried looking in the shops? Maybe he managed to get in one to stay safe.” Grayson suggested, glancing around them. “Come on.” He tugged on her hand, leading her down the street as he helped her look for their son.

It wasn’t his ideal situation, being stuck in a darkened shop while Diagon Alley was lit only by the fires caused by whatever damage the Death Eaters had done. But there was, ducked down by the window to avoid detection as the masked figured ran past. As much as he wanted to fight back, he knew that it would be best if he lie low for now. His mother would kill him if she caught him trying to play hero. When the coast was clear he snuck out the back door, stumbling out onto the street. After a moment of wandering, he saw the familiar raven hair of his mother and he sprinted over to her.

“Mum,” Connor’s arms wrapped around his mother, recognizing the look on her face as he approached. “I’m fine, before you ask. I didn’t get hurt. Bad, anyway. Kinda banged up my knee a bit, but no big deal.”

Emma had her mouth open to ask the question, but he cut her off. She sighed in relief and pulled him to her again, fearing the worst when she couldn’t get in touch with him. “As long as you’re alright. That’s all that matters. Except I want to see what your definition of a banged up knee is.”

She pulled back and looked at him. “I can’t find Connor anywhere. And his phone’s going straight to voicemail.” 

Grayson smiled at her kiss, nodding once with no further argument as he climbed back over the side of the bed. He shuffled off to the bathroom, grumbling as he pulled open the drawers, already having forgotten which one she said it’d be in. “Aha,” He murmured, finding the small potion bottle. He held it up to the light. “Um,” He called, squinting at it. “Is it supposed to be green?”

“Potions was my best class, Parke,” she drawled, lazily, as she rolled onto her side and looked into the bathroom. “Yes. It’s supposed to be green. Merlin, what do you think I’m trying to do - poison you? I don’t see how that’d benefit me.”

“Sobered up?” He asked, wrinkling his nose and frowning as she stopped him. “I’m not drunk. I’m a dad, dad’s don’t get drunk.” He scoffed, shaking his head. Grayson paused for a moment afterwards, watching the room catch up with him. Maybe she had a point. “Hunter and I had like, two drinks, it’s fine.” He waved away her concern, furrowing his brow at his one sock. He reached forward to remove it. “My mind is clear, and you are the most beautiful woman I think there ever was.”

“Yes, Dad’s don’t get drunk because they don’t normally go out drinking. Which is why those, like, two drinks probably got you drunker than you think.”

“Now that Christmas is officially over, let’s talk about New Years and how I’m trying to look like a walking disco ball. What are you wearing?”

“Well, hopefully nothing that makes me look like a walking disco ball. I’d hate for us to match.”

Grayson squinted as she turned the light on, his eyes having already grown accustomed to the dark of the house. He blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the brightness, before crawling closer to her. “No,” he breathed with a smile. “What time is it?” He asked, almost as if she were telling him a joke. He laughed, turning to pull his socks clumsily off his feet. “What is it?” He asked her, turning after removing his left sock. “Emma.” He breathed, smiling again. “You’re so beautiful.”

When he crawled closer to her, Emma placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “I know I am, but you need to get sobered up.” Emma nodded to the bathroom. “Top drawer. Then you can come back and tell me how beautiful I am with a clear mind.”

Hunter smirked, “You’re right about that. Can’t remember the last time I even got past a first date with a woman.”

“No, I didn’t want anything. I was in the area and decided i’d stop by. I’m about to head to the states for another mission and wanted to see my family before I go, in case I don’t come back.” He joked but was also slightly serious. “It’s getting crazy over there and the goblins want all their gold back home.”

“Hunter, don’t talk like that,” Emma sighed, leaning against the table. “I heard about that, though. Makes me glad I don’t work for the Minister much anymore.”

Grayson crept his way to the back of the house, dropping his keys and his cloak on, or at least near, the table on his way by. He eased open the bedroom door, toeing out of his boots as he closed it gently behind him. Shuffling his way to the bed, he hit his toe on the corner, cursing. At the rustle of movement, he grinned. “Hey.” He whispered, although it didn’t seem to come out in a whisper. He frowned, throwing his hands out as he found the mattress, crawling up it, trying to find Emma. “Hey, wake up.”

@emmalyn-westenberg

Emma stirred in her sleep at the sound of his voice, rolling to her side. She reached over and turned the light on, looking up at him. “Merlin do you know what time it is?” Emma narrowed her eyes in the dim light, trying to adjust so she could see him. “What is it?”

Hunter keyed into his brother’s house and immediately heard the patter of tiny feet. He swept Juliette into his arms with a wide smile and followed her path back to the kitchen expecting to find Grayson doing something or other, but instead finding Emma. “Oh, hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

@emmalyn-westenberg

Emma rolled her eyes at his remark. “Well, we are dating, Hunter. Might be foreign territory for you, but this is what occasionally happens when you’re dating someone. I know it’s been a while, but surely you can remember that.”

“There are about a million reasons you might not want people asking ridiculously personal questions, love.” He replied with a chuckle, although he took heart in her confidence. Grayson had wanted everyone to know they were together from the moment they’d decided to try their relationship again. He laughed at her words. “Yes, dear.”

“Oh come on, this is different. I would never be so reckless with my dearest Sofia.” He murmured, bringing her hand up to his lips. “Shall we?” He asked, gesturing toward the door in front of them.

“Well, there are a million reasons people won’t want to ask me ridiculously personal questions, love,” she responded. “If they know me, and value their lives, they won’t.”

Grayson sighed as they drew nearer to the school, tightening his arm where Emma’s was linked through. He glanced over at her, words lost on his tongue for a moment as he took her in, dressed up the way she was. She was always beautiful, but tonight was even more. She was breathtaking. He smiled as she glanced over at him, and he found his voice once more. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, using his free hand to straighten his tie. “I mean, if we do this there’s no going back. Everyone is going to bug us about this.”

@emmalyn-westenberg

Emma looked up when he tightened the hold on her arm and shook her head, giving him a reassuring smile. “Grayson, why would I not be sure? We want to restart our life together. Our son knows. We need to move forward. Everyone knowing we’re together is a way to move forward.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m fine with being hounded by nosy quidditch-obsessed reporters. Stop worrying so much.”

He hated it, but he went rigid at his mother’s touch; not because he didn’t want her near him, but the last thing he had expected was a hug after the way he’d treated her and stormed out. Connor smiled meekly at her words, shrugging a shoulder when she asked what he wanted to know. There was just so much that he didn’t understand now, he didn’t know what to even think about it all. “I dunno, mum.” He answered after a moment, his eyes falling towards the floor. “I mean, I want to know why, but…” he shrugged, the rest of his sentence dying on his lips. He had been about to say that it didn’t matter, that he just wanted to move on from it. But one question made him refrain from saying so.

“When we were at the grave,” Connor swallowed, remembering the trip they had made to visit what he had thought to be his father’s resting place. “You were talking about him that day, weren’t you? When you said I reminded you of him? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”

Emma sighed and dropped her arms, meeting her son’s gaze. “I wish I could give you a definite, concrete answer. The truth is, there’s a bunch of reasons why I didn’t tell you then.” She reached out for Connor’s hand and took him to the kitchen, sitting down at the table. “My father wouldn’t have approved of my relationship with Grayson. He wouldn’t have approved of my child having any trace of muggle blood. So much, in fact, he would have killed you. Both of you, so I thought it was best if I left Grayson here and took you away. I’d planned on telling you when you started school. I had this stupid idea that I’d come back to England and Grayson would be here and we’d start where he left off and it would all be okay, but...” She shook her head. “He’d moved on, and he seemed happy. I didn’t think it was fair to you to tell you that you had a father who wasn’t going to be a daily fixture in your life, not after everything you’d been through.”

“I know right!” Hunter laughed, “I couldn’t get any better, and of course I’m coming to yours. I hate the Ministry. The whole place smells of ignorant people. At least I know yours is going to have good food.” 

“What are you, darling. Twelve?” She teased. “At least you’ll be there. And at least I’ve got your permission to be in a relationship with your brother. Your sister didn’t even know what to call me - while not-so-subtly making a failed escape before I saw her. Charming, really.”

“I wonder if I can get away with getting Grayson Juliette for Christmas? Like, you know, just wrap her in a giant box with a bow on top. I mean he loves his daughter the most, right?”

“Well, you certainly get the award for brother of the year,” Emma said, rolling her eyes as she looked at him. “Are you coming tomorrow night? Don’t tell me you’re going to blow my party off for the Minister’s.”

He chuckled as he watched Juliette put the finishing touches on her house, wondering how on earth a six year old managed so much better than he did. “Love, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.” He sighed, unable to stop the small smile from forming on his face as she kissed his cheek. “But you’re right. We’ve got to start somewhere, and I want us to be a family.” He nodded decisively, moving towards the sink as Emma went to admire his daughter’s gingerbread house. He watched them fondly as he washed his hands, grumbling slightly to himself at how difficult the icing was proving to be to get off of his skin. “Merlin…” He muttered, shaking his head as he turned the water hotter, finally managing to get it off his hands. He grabbed the dishtowel and made his way back to his house, putting his hands on his hips as he surveyed it.

While he was still contemplating how to salvage the mess, it collapsed upon itself and he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. He watched Juliette pad down the hallway, turning to wrap his own arms around Emmalyn tightly only after he heard the click of the bathroom door. He chuckled, rolling his eyes slightly at her words. “I’m shocked.” Grayson purred, leaning in to kiss her. He pulled back with a contented noise, tightening his arms slightly around her as she moved hers around his neck. “You and me both.” He laughed, winking at her. “It might have taken us twenty years, but better late than never, yeah?” He sighed happily, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger against her cheek. “So, what are we making for dinner? Since we’re being so domestic today.” He grinned.

“You’re shocked that I cheated? I don’t think I like the tone you used when you said that, Parke,” she teased with a smile, looking down the hall when she heard Juliette shut the bathroom door behind her. “What are we making tonight? I’m sorry - we? The kitchen isn’t going to burst into flames with you just standing in here?” She smirked. “Arroz con pollo. Literally a chicken and rice dish. I don’t even think you can mess that one up, love.”

“I don’t see why my life would depend on it.” He replied with a chuckle, moving his fingers to intertwine with hers as she covered his with her own, getting icing all over her hands as well. “But I guess that’s a good thing, because you’re totally right. Why do muggles do this every year?” He laughed as the walls fell back in on themselves, not sure where he had gone wrong. It all seemed simple enough, but he wasn’t entirely surprised that even so he had managed to mess it up. “That’s an excellent question.” He hummed contentedly as she rested her head on his shoulder, a warmth spreading throughout him at her presence against his back. There had always been something comforting about being with her, even all those years ago at Hogwarts. He had never realised just how much he missed her until she was back in his arms again - at least, until the last time they’d separated. Now, he knew he never wanted that to happen again, and he flexed his fingers around hers happily.

His smile faded somewhat as she brought up Connor, suddenly feeling very nervous about whatever it was she was about to say. “Sounds par for the course.” He chuckled as she finished, something about how she explained Connor’s reaction reminding him strikingly to the way he had acted. “Merlin, he really is my son.” He muttered, the words still foreign on his tongue. He furrowed his brows momentarily, shaking his head clear as she continued. “The four of us?” He asked as she removed her hands, taking a step back to admire their handiwork with a fleeting smile. “I don’t know, Emma.” He ran his hand across his forehead, unknowingly spreading icing across his head. “I….I guess, yeah.” She had a point, after all. He wanted them to be a family as much as she did. And even more importantly, she wanted this. There was nothing he wouldn’t give her. “Are you sure, though? I mean, he hated me before, I’m sure this didn’t help.”

She laughed and turned around in his arms. “Because it’s tradition. Stop being so grumpy,” she teased, nodding to Juliette. “Your daughter loves it. You’re just upset your graham cracker architecture skills are lacking.” Emma nodded and reached up to wipe the icing from his forehead, smilingly a little. “He really is your son. He acts like you a lot. Unfortunately, he was blessed with the worst of both our personalities at times,” she teased, lightly, dropping her hand. “He said he was done fighting with me. If he’s done being mad and done arguing, than he’s going to have to eventually accept you in his life because you’re apart of mine now. I’ll talk to him. But don’t just do it because of me. If you really don’t want to do this or don’t feel ready, it’s fine.” Emma leaned up to kiss his cheek, pulling back and squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I promise.”