Happy Holidays, Nema_Rasa! (Hooch/Burbage, PG-13) Title: Two Women, Three Broomsticks Author/Artist: ??? Recipient:nema_rasa Rating: PG-13 Length/Medium: 1500 words Pairing(s): Madam Hooch/Charity Burbage Summary: In times of war, a lot of people who don’t usually drink come into The Three Broomsticks. Some of them aren’t too keen on seeing each other. Note: Kindly beta-read by A - thanks so much!
“Xiomara, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Madam Rosmerta asks kindly.
Hooch shakes her head. “Please.”
The proprietor frowns, but gives the woman what she wants. She’s certainly not the only one to be drinking a little more than usual recently, and Rosmerta can always cut her off after this one. In happier times, it was unusual to see Xiomara in The Three Broomsticks in the first place. Sometimes she would stop in after refereeing a Quidditch practice, but right now, with the summer almost over, it would have been more like her to be out there playing the game herself than to be drinking alone in a smoky pub. But troubled times do strange things to people.
Until a few months ago, Xiomara’s short, spiky grey hair had framed a stern but remarkably wrinkle-free face. Now her frown lines are deepening visibly every time Rosmerta sees her.
The door bangs open and closed, signifying the entrance of another person. Light floods the small room. Xiomara, absorbed in her drink, doesn’t bother to look up to see who it is. Lucky thing, Rosmerta thinks regretfully. Hooch and the professor entering the pub aren’t too fond of each other. Anymore, that is.
Charity Burbage lights up the place with her usual cheerful smile. It falters for a second when she sees Hooch, but she rallies and simply sits at the other end of the bar. Rosmerta’s heart goes out to her.
Short and slim, with chin-length brown hair, Charity is Xiomara’s opposite in almost every way. It’s said that opposites attract, and they did, for a while.
“G’day, Rosmerta,” Charity greets the proprietor.
“What can I get for you, my dear?” Rosmerta enjoys Charity’s company; she doesn’t come to the pub any more than she did during better times, but Rosmerta almost wishes she did.
“Just a Butterbeer, please. How are you doing?”
“Quite well, and yourself?”
“Excellent. I’m looking forward to getting back to school and meeting the new students. I’ve been updating my curriculum based on the new advances in Muggle technology. It’s very exciting stuff!”
Since Rosmerta couldn’t care less about advances in Muggle technology, she lets her mind drift to remembering the long-ago history of Charity’s relationship with the woman on the other side of the room all the while. Charity may have been in the wrong with the way her relationship with Xiomara ended all those years ago, but after all, everybody makes mistakes. And she’s definitely been the bigger person since; Xiomara is the one who started this ridiculous act of pretending they don’t know each other.
The charade may fool other people, of course, but Rosmerta has somewhat intimate knowledge of the two teachers’ affair. After all, wasn’t it in this very room that they first spoke? Rosmerta is too busy running a pub to run around playing matchmaker, but she takes some amount of pride in the fact that it was her that introduced them, having seen the flicker of attraction as their eyes met.
Sparks flew instantly, aided by the mugs of Butterbeer that Rosmerta judiciously kept filled by their sides. Rosmerta is not a fan of alcohol-fueled promiscuity, but she is well aware that Xiomara and Charity did sleep together that night. She knows this because she lent them the key to a room in the back of the pub and, although she hadn’t planned it that way, she could hear every moment of their secret time together from her own chamber upstairs. Rosmerta’s then-boyfriend had laughed at the increase in energy that she had for him in their own bed that night.
The relationship had ended in the same place it started, right here in The Three Broomsticks. The two women, then young, had come into the room walking as close together as they could without actually holding hands. Xiomara was smiling from ear to ear, but Charity was uncharacteristically sober. When Xiomara went to take a seat at the bar as usual, Charity guided her instead into the back room. Rosmerta wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, but as it happened, she had to grab a couple of things out of her chamber.
For several minutes she couldn’t hear anything. Then there came a shriek. “What do you mean, you can’t see me anymore?” It was Xiomara.
Rosmerta couldn’t hear Charity’s next words, only Xiomara’s again. “But I love you! How can you do this to me? I never would have thought that you were a racist!”
Charity became audible. “I’m not a racist!” she exclaimed. “My family is having a hard enough time accepting that I’m gay, but they won’t stand to see me with a half-blood. It’s not me,” she insisted. “I just can’t do this to them anymore.”
“So you leave me for a pure-blood man,” Xiomara hissed. “I thought you were a grown woman, not your family’s toy. Forget love, forget courage, forget standing up for what you believe in. The Burbages hate Muggles, so Charity marries someone she doesn’t care about, no questions asked.”
“Please, Xiomara - ”
“I never want to see you again!”
When Rosmerta got back downstairs, regrettably having forgotten the things she went to her chamber to get, both women were gone.
She doesn’t know the specifics of what happened after, but Charity never married the man she was going to marry. Charity tried to speak to Xiomara several times, but she always just ignored her. Eventually, she gave up.
Now, Charity speaks to Rosmerta, bringing her back to the present. “Have you seen today’s Daily Prophet?”
Rosmerta shakes her head. “No, dear. Why?”
The other woman almost blushes. “Oh, I had an article in it. It probably won’t be very well received with the way politics are going these days, but there were some things that I needed to say.”
Another customer waves Rosmerta down, so that she doesn’t have time to inquire further about what Charity is talking about. After she has filled the wizard’s order, she glances over at Xiomara. Rosmerta watches with surprise as Hooch’s eyes lift from her drink. They take in the room, eventually lighting on Charity.
Charity looks back at Hooch.
Rosmerta poises herself for action; sparks are going to fly, she doesn’t doubt.
But they don’t. Instead, Xiomara raises her hand, not in a threatening gesture, but in a simple wave. Charity nods at her.
A second later, Hooch gets up and leaves the pub. With an inscrutable look on her face, Charity follows her, leaving her untouched Butterbeer behind. Rosmerta is completely bewildered. She continues to work, but her mind is on the two women. Close to her closing time, she spies a copy of the day’s Daily Prophet that a customer has left on a table. She picks it up and begins to flip through it, wondering what the article Charity wrote was all about.
She finds Charity’s byline in the editorial section. To her surprise, the article is a defense of Muggles. She skims through the paragraphs. Charity is arguing that Muggle-born and half-blood wizards can easily be just as valuable citizens as full-bloods can. One’s blood status does not in the least hamper one’s magical abilities. Furthermore, with the current decline in wizard population, it is desirable that wizards mate with Muggles to prevent the extinction of the wizarding community.
Rosmerta doesn’t skim the final paragraph; in fact, she reads it over several times. “Wizards and Muggles are both natural parts of this world, and as such, we must learn to live together. Muggles are not bad, stupid, or worthless. I’m sure we all know good wizards and witches who have at least one Muggle parent. The love of my life was a half-blood, and I lost her – yes, her - because I was too unwise to realize that that didn’t matter. I hope that nobody else will make the same mistake.”
The proprietor thinks back to the way that Charity and Xiomara left the pub together. She’s no busybody, but oh! What she wouldn’t give to see what happened!
Less than a week later, the two women come into the pub together. It’s as if no time has passed since the days of their affair. Both are smiling radiantly, and for the first time, they are holding hands. The lovebirds take seats side by side at the bar and order two Butterbeers.
Rosmerta isn’t listening in, but she catches snippets of their conversation as she works.
“I love you,” Xiomara says quietly. “I’ve always loved you.”
“I love you too,” Charity replies. They kiss gently.
A few minutes later, Rosmerta hears Xiomara’s voice once more. “I really hope you never leave me again.”
“I promise not to leave you,” Charity says. She is clasping her lover’s hand tightly. “I’ll never, ever leave you.”