#the servant problem aka they're a bunch of autocratic arseholes ruling your house with an iron will

[wellpresseddaisy]

The Poshest Bedstead in Islington part 15

Dominic Agnew stood shoulder to shoulder with Adelaide Kershaw in the entry hall and basked in their shared moment of triumph. The sun barely glimmered over the horizon, lightening the early morning gloom just enough. The summer morning dawned chilly and damp, with rain promised later, but inside fires crackled in each grate. The entry tiles positively gleamed from everyone’s hard work yesterday and a soft strain of beeswax furniture polish floated under the scent of flowers from the garden. Not that anything hadn’t been clean before, but Gordon had a way with scrubbing tiles that even Kreacher approved.

Welcoming Molly Weasley into the house was enough to give any Housekeeper the yips. They’d done a thorough cleaning last night, from the sub-basement up to the attics, in part to tamp down on their own nerves and in part to introduce themselves to Black House. Coming in as new staff when she’d got used to only having Kreacher tending her needed a delicate touch. She needed to know their magic and their intentions, and so they set to work.

He thought, perhaps, that the grand old girl liked having them about. Old houses, magical ones especially, had their quirks and personalities that one simply worked with or around. Dominic didn’t think she’d give them trouble so long as they respected her. All of them were so up in alt over being chosen that he wasn’t sure they’d particularly notice.

He’d positively longed to try his hand at being Housekeeper, and now he could. Adelaide, he knew, would excel as Butler. He’d never yet met anyone who could match her breadth and depth of knowledge regarding wine and the care of silver services.

He surveyed the footmen and housemaids lined up before the pair of them and took a deep breath as Adelaide began.

“In one hour, we will begin welcoming our house guests. They will be staying for as long as is needed, given the distressing threats laid against them. We are asked to give no indication that they are here for the present moment. Not one word of gossip will pass out of this house. Am I understood?” Adelaide spoke severely.

The group of them gave a general murmur of assent.

“In the beginning, as a reminder, His Grace will neither entertain nor be at home to visitors. We know that his innocence should be announced in the next few weeks. Kreacher will let us know when this is announced and if His Grace will be at home. His Lordship will, with any luck, be able to join the household at that time.” Adelaide continued. “Jefferson, Danvers, and Bailey—has the heavy luggage been brought up?”

“Yes, ma’am. We saw to it earlier this morning. We’re set to go with Kreacher to bring the guests here in an hour.” Jefferson, the first footman, stepped forward and answered smartly.

“Good work.” Adeliade nodded at them.

“And the bedrooms are all made up?” Dominic asked, even though he’d checked not fifteen minutes before.

“We’re ready for everyone, Mr. Kershaw.” Maud answered, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Miss Daley wished me to tell you that she’s ready to receive the young ladies. Mr. Douglas will wait upon the young gentlemen and Miss Cooper is ready for Mrs. Weasley.”

“Thank you, Maud.” Not even a week ago they’d both been senior housemaids. He hoped she didn’t take his promotion amiss.

“Cook will send an early tea up to the Morning room once our guests are settled,” he continued. “I know we’ll all do excellent work here. His Grace noticed your efforts last night and sends along his sincere thanks. If you have any trouble, you may come to me. Many of our younger guests aren’t used to being waited upon and have spent the last few years mostly at school. Any trouble from that quarter should be brought to Kreacher.”

One of the footmen—Katherine Bailey, Dominic’s brain supplied—raised her hand.

“Yes, Bailey?” Adelaide prompted.

“It’s probably not my place, Mrs. Kershaw, but I grew up not far from the Weasleys. Does anyone else think this is a thinly veiled attempt to keep His Grace distracted and entertained until His Lordship can come home?”

Dominic saw Adelaide twitch out of the corner of his eye and bit the inside of his cheek. Good old Bailey, always noticing things.

“You always do make connections quickly, Bailey.” Adelaide sounded a bit strained.

“Sorry, Mrs. Kershaw. It’s just that they’re a guardian family and the Burrow is protected as anything.” Bailey shifted under Adelaide’s steady gaze.

“Whatever the reasons, we’ll be on our guard, won’t we?”

That got a firm yes from all gathered.

“Right. Well, off we trot to face the day and make Mrs. Harris proud.” Dominic winced at how that sounded but shooed everyone off to their work.

He’d have to work on not sounding like a giant tit.

----------------------------

The gray, mizzley day couldn’t put a damper on Sirius’ high spirits. Nor could the heavy over robe Kreacher and Halloway insisted on, or the Bath chair Kreacher unearthed from somewhere ‘So His Grace can be comfortable while guests arrive’. Despite his continued convalescence, he would (privately) not mind sitting while waiting. His balance hadn’t quite recovered yet, and he had misgivings about all the stairs down into the garden.

Guests. The very word sent a thrill through him. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed other people about the place until Albus suggested the Weasleys come to stay a while. As much as he hated thinking of the threats leveled against them (against Ginny and Ronald especially), he rather hoped they’d stay a good long while. If anyone deserved some rest it was Molly and Arthur. They worked hell’s own hours, no matter what Molly made it look like to the children.

Having young people around would be fun, too. He’d liked Hermione and Ronald when he met them, and he expected that Ginny would be interesting at the very least. One did not mix Weasley and Prewett blood and expect a mealy-mouthed miss. They weren’t Harry, but taking them through the attics to select furniture and clothes would still be great fun.

He felt a bit silly sitting on the terrace under a pavilion, but it was the only way he could get Kreacher and Halloway to agree to him waiting outside. Honestly, if he’d realized what complete autocrats servants trained under Mrs. Harris were, he’d have risked arrest and gone to an agency instead.

“Halloway, if you try to tuck another rug over my knees or about my shoulders, I will turn into a dog and bite you,” Sirius snapped, waving off his anxious valet.

“As you wish, your Grace,” Halloway sniffed. “It would be a shame if Kreacher found you’d caught cold, of course.”

“You have been in my employ for…how long were you at Buckingham House?” Sirius interrupted himself.

“Five years this August, your grace.” Halloway took advantage of his momentary distraction to drop the disputed rug over his knees.

“In any case you’ve been in my particular employ for less than twenty-four hours and you’re invoking Kreacher? For shame, man.”

“Kreacher was exceedingly specific, your grace, as to his expectations of me. I shan’t fail him.”

“Do my own expectations get a look in?”

“Er, no, your grace. Kreacher doesn’t believe they should. He began muttering about trousers and music hall abominations when I asked.”

“We are going to have a chat about that as soon as I feel up to it,” Sirius declared. “We’re all in thrall to Kreacher, aren’t we?”

“I believe we all know that listening to Nanny is in our best interest.”

The first pop of apparition distracted them both. Bailey appeared with Hermione on one arm and Ginny on the other.

“Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Ginevra Weasley, your grace,” Bailey announced and popped out again.

The girls walked up the terrace steps together, stopping just under the pavilion.

“Welcome, both of you,” Sirius began. “Miss Granger, do you accept the protection and sponsorship of my House?”

He held a hand out to her and she did as they practiced with her parents, clasping his hand for a moment and then sliding her hand up to clasp his wrist.

“With the consent of my parents, I do accept,” Hermione answered in a clear, ringing voice.

Their magic surged in response to the oath, hers a sparking lavender and his Family Magic a slinking silver. Tendrils twined together, reminding him of little more than two cats meeting for the first time. Acceptance thrilled through him, the Black magic well pleased to offer shelter to such a magical. Slowly, their magic receded, Hermione’s now bearing the gossamer sheen of the Black Family. She loosed his wrist and stepped back.

“That was…my magic?” She breathed, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen…it’s beautiful.”

“It is, Miss Granger. Welcome to the protection of my House. We shall be well pleased to sponsor you.”

“Thank you, your grace. It is an honor to be given the protection and sponsorship of such a House as this. I only hope I shall bring honor to it.”

“For now, Miss Granger, Mr. Black will do. We’ll work out a compromise acceptable to all parties in the very near future. You’re all so dear to Harry that…well, we won’t say anything more about that for the moment. Sit and be comfortable. Halloway has quite a knack for warming charms.” Sirius unholstered his wand and conjured two chairs.

“Thank you, Mr. Black. I think it was Ron next, and then Fred and George. Mum’s still insisting she can apparate herself,” Ginny explained as she made herself comfortable. “Bailey, I think, is going to win in the end.”

Hermione shook herself out of a reverie and sat as well. “How…are you well?”

Sirius took in the worry in her eyes and the way she bit at her lip and sighed internally. Another one taking on too much responsibility, too many adult worries. Hermione should have thoughts only for her coming OWL year and whatever else the Hermiones of the world enjoyed, not his health and how it would affect Harry and all of it.

“I will be perfectly well soon,” he reassured her. “We’re being extremely cautious at the moment, but in a few more weeks I may not need even a walking stick. The chair is so I don’t have to try all the steps to get back here.”

Hermione nodded and relaxed fractionally. “I’m sure it’s a lovely garden.”

Ginny snorted and Sirius honestly agreed with her.

“We haven’t done much out here. We wanted to wait for your mother, Miss Weasley. She seems to think taming a pleasure garden is great fun.”

“So that’s why she’s had all the gardening catalogs and books out. It is fun for her, though. Mum mostly plans working gardens and things like that at home. Mucking about with flowers and decorative borders and all that will be fun for her.”

Just then, Jefferson and Ron apparated in, Ron looking a bit green.

“Mr. Ronald Weasley,” Jefferson announced before he apparated out.

“Er, thanks,” Ron told thin air.

“Be welcome, Mr. Weasley,” Sirius called to him. “Come up and get out of that drizzle.”

“Nasty sort of a day,” Ron remarked once he made the top of the stairs. “We got caught in a filthy downpour in Brighton. Jefferson’s first rate with drying charms.”

“There are fires and near endless hot water inside,” Sirius assured him, enlarging Hermione’s chair to fit two. “I don’t know what they did to the boiler, but I don’t think it’s ever worked better.”

“Do you think they’d mind if I asked? Only Dad’s been muttering about ours since Fred and George discovered that they really liked scalding showers.”

“Could I listen in? I don’t know anything about magical home repair or appliances,” Hermione added hopefully.

“We’ll have to ask Kreacher. Which…Kreacher, they’re here.” Usually he would say ‘the children are here’, but with three above the age of thirteen, one didn’t wish to insult them.

Kreacher entered with a pop, looking delighted.

“Excellent, your grace. Kreacher will take you up to the…schoolroom floor so you may rest and tidy before an early tea. Mr. Ronald, Kreacher heard about the dousing in Brighton. A bath is waiting.”

The three young people found themselves chivvied toward the terrace entrance to the house, not one of them quite knowing how they got there. Ron and Ginny, at least, had some idea of exactly who Kreacher was in the grand scheme of this sort of family.

“Don’t you want company, Mr. Black?” Hermione asked, turning back.

“Miss Hermione will come with Kreacher.”

Sirius pressed his lips together a moment before he answered.

“Best go in with Kreacher, Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley will clue you in. It’s best, though, if we all listen to Nanny.”