"Harry!"
Luna Thomas beamed and rose from her chair, her radish-shaped earrings dangling from her lobes.
"Hello, Luna." Harry said as Luna gave him a hug. "Good to see you again."
"You too. I can't wait to tell Dean you came by. He'll be so excited. He still thinks the world of you, you know."
Harry gave her a slight nod. He certainly hoped that was true.
Luna aimed her protuberant eyes over Harry's shoulder. "Hermione. How are you doing?"
"Oh, fine. You?"
"Wonderful. I just found out last week I'm pregnant again."
Harry's eyes widened in amazement. Dean and Luna hadn't even gotten to their fifth wedding anniversary and this would be their third child. At this rate they'd wind up with a bigger family than the Weasleys.
"Congratulations," he smiled.
"Thank you. And how's your son?"
"He's fine. Eight-months-old now. Seems to get bigger every day."
"And what about you, Hermione?"
Harry bit his lip. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Hermione's jaw stiffen. She finally drew a slow breath and answered with a flat voice. "No children . . . yet. Hopefully soon."
Hermione turned away, pretending to examine the office of tightly packed desks and walls covered with oversized covers of The Quibbler, including one with Harry's face and the headline "HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN". Ron had told him he and Hermione had been trying to conceive for the past year-and-a-half without success. His best friend made no attempt to hide the disappointment on his face that day. At times it made Harry reluctant to talk about James around them, even when they asked about their nephew.
"I'd suggest covering your bed with petals from Wivillren Flowers when Venus is at its brightest," Luna suggested to Hermione. "When Dean and I tried that, I wound up pregnant with Calliope."
Harry choked on his own saliva. He glimpsed Hermione whip her head around, looking appalled.
"Um . . . uh, I wish we had time to catch up, Luna." Harry wanted to steer the conversation in another direction before Hermione went off. "But I'm actually here on official business. I was hoping you could help me with a case I'm working on."
Somehow Luna's eyes grew even larger. "Really? It's the Biloko, isn't it? We've been reporting for the last year that they're digging a tunnel from Africa to Britain. Very vicious creatures. They feed on human flesh."
"Um, no." Harry heard Hermione groaning behind him. "Actually, this is a creature that somehow lives inside Muggle TV sets." He proceeded to describe the monster he, Ginny and the Winchesters chased last night.
"Hmm." Without another word, Luna turned and plopped down on her chair. She opened the left hand drawer of her desk, which was crammed with parchment. Harry raised an eyebrow when he noticed something attached to several pieces of parchment. Muggle post-it notes of various colors.
Those have to be from Dean.
Luna grabbed handfuls of parchment, scanned them for a few seconds then dumped them on her desk. Harry leaned forward, catching the scribbles on some of the post-it notes.
THINGS THAT FLY AND ARE PURPLE
THINGS WITH HORNS THAT LIVE IN LAKES
THINGS THAT ARE FLUFFY AND FROM HOLLAND
THINGS THAT LIVE IN TREES AND BITE PEOPLE
He heard a gasp behind him. Harry turned and saw Hermione gaping at the ever growing mound of parchment. "How can you find anything in this . . . this mess?" she stammered.
Luna ignored her and kept digging through the parchment until her torso completely vanished in the drawer. Harry gazed at the piles of parchment on the desk, which now reached his chin.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Here it is."
Harry drew his head back in surprise as Luna extracted herself from the drawer. She held up a stack of parchment in front of him.
"Um, thanks." He took it from Luna, amazed she could actually find what he wanted in that mess. An aqua blue post-it note drew his attention.
NASTY THINGS THAT LIVE IN MUGGLE TELEVISION
Harry stared at it without blinking, shaking his head. After all the help Luna had given him back at Hogwarts, he should have known better than to underestimate this quirky woman.
He started reading the first page.
Kakkarsprugs look like large balls of yellow fur. They have tentacles that shoot out of the screen and . . .
Harry sighed and turned to the next page.
The Rangosi are a race of wraith-like creatures that possess Muggles during commercials and force them to buy things they don't need.
Not it either. Next page.
Barney is a fat purple dragon whose melodious singing brainwashes young Muggles . . .
Harry groaned. Doubt crept into his head again. He turned to the next page.
His fingers tightened on the parchment.
The Stacyx are thin as a beanpole but very tall, over two-and-a-half meters. They have thin curved horns, blood red eyes and a mouthful of pointy teeth.
"That's it!" Harry stabbed the parchment and showed it to Hermione. "That's what we chased last night."
Luna glanced down at the parchment. "Oh. The Stacyx. I haven't thought of them in a while."
Harry turned the page, hoping to find more information. But those two sentences were all Luna had written.
"Isn't there anything more on these Stacyx?"
"I'm sorry. I was going to fill in more, but at the time the big scandal at Gringotts broke. You know, the goblins who ran that Quidditch betting ring and stole from the vaults to cover their wagers. By the time I got back around to this, I couldn't find the original article."
"I'm not surprised," Hermione said. "I mean, how can you find anything in that mess? You need to . . ."
Harry waved at her to be silent. "Isn't there anything else you remember from the article?"
"Only a few details. I only managed to look at it briefly. You'd probably be better off talking to the man who wrote it."
"Do you remember his name?" Please remember his name.
"Oh yes. He's a freelance writer who's worked with Daddy a few times before. Bentley Basham. He's an ex-auror, and he was the one who fought the Stacyx when they first appeared."
XXXXX
After getting Basham's address from Luna's father, Xenophilius, Harry and Hermione bid them farewell and Apparated. Within seconds they stood in a dank, grimy section of Diagon Alley. A stench Harry had no desire to identify hovered around him. Hermione scrunched her face in disgust.
"What a charming place." Hermione coughed and scrunched her face in disgust.
Harry waved a hand in front of him, trying unsuccessfully to rid the air around him of that foul odor. He spotted two raggedly-dressed wizards conversing near the entrance of the rundown building across from them. One turned his way. Harry could see the man's gaze lock on to the auror symbol on his robes. The man turned to his friend and nodded. They proceeded down the lane as quickly as possible.
Any other time, Harry would have followed them to see what they were up to. But he doubted those two posed a greater threat than these Stacyx things.
Harry and Hermione walked to dilapidated building and climbed two flights of rickety stairs that he felt would collapse any second. They stepped off on the second floor and proceeded to a door with the number 16.
"Mister Basham." Harry knocked on the door.
No answer. He tried again.
"Mister Basham. My name's Harry Potter, Aurors Office."
Seconds later, the door creaked open.
A sagging, wrinkled face greeted him. Liver spots dotted the old man's head, which sprouted just a few wisps of gray hair.
"Harry Potter?" He cranked an eyebrow.
"Yes. Are you Bentley Basham?"
The man slowly tilted his head from one side to the other. "Let's see it then."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"The scar, boy. If you really are Harry Potter, you'll have the scar. Let's see it."
Harry frowned. He brushed back the hair from his forehead and leaned forward, giving the man a good look at his lightning bolt scar.
"Ah, you are him. Yes, I'm Bentley Basham. So what do you want?"
"Sir, are you familiar with creatures called the Stacyx?"
Basham froze. His brown eyes locked on Harry.
"Nothing better to do then?"
"I'm sorry?" Harry furrowed his brow.
"Is the savior of the Wizarding World so bored you need to come to this pitiful excuse for a flat and ridicule a crazed ex-auror? Your bosses send you?"
"No. I got your address from Xenophilius Lovegood at The Quibbler."
"Hmph! Well tell old Xenophilius I've got no stories to give him today. In fact, why don't you tell him I could use a steady job? Better than him coming round a few times a year to pick my brain because he needs to fill extra space in his rag. Now good day."
Basham started to close the door. Harry stuck his foot out, wincing when it got crushed between the door and the frame.
"They're back! Mister Basham, the Stacyx are back!"
Basham peeked through the crack. He pulled the door open a bit. Harry sighed in relief and tried to shake the pain from his foot.
"You're serious?"
"Yes. I chased one of them last night, into a television set."
Basham twisted his lips and groaned.
"Mister Basham, I assure you I'm not here to ridicule you. I swear, the Stacyx are back. I think they've already killed several Muggles, and not just in Britain. I've gotten reports of similar deaths in the U.S., Germany, Australia, Japan, Russia and Brazil. You fought them once before. I need your help, please, before more people die."
Basham blinked a few times. The wrinkled skin around his nose and mouth twisted as he regarded Harry in silence.
"Come in, then." He opened the door fully and backed up, letting Harry and Hermione in. "Were it anyone else, I'd tell them to bugger off. But I guess I should give you some respect, having killed that son-of-a-bitch Voldemort and all. Who's she?"
"Hermione Weasley. She's with the Ministry, too. She's helping me on this case."
Basham grunted. "Well, sit down." He waved them over to an old sagging sofa with a layer of dust on it. In fact, the whole apartment seemed coated in layers of dust and grim.
Harry winced as he sat down. A hazy cloud of dust sprang up around him, causing him to sneeze. He scowled. His robes would need a good washing when he got home.
And so will I.
"Um, I think I'll stand, thank you." Hermione stood three paces behind the sofa, cringing as she stared at it.
Basham pulled up a rickety wooden chair and sat a couple meters from Harry. "So. You say the Stacyx are back, eh?"
"That's right. Luna, Mister Lovegood's daughter, told us you fought them once before."
"That I did, boy. That I did."
"What are they? Where do they come from?"
The old man folded his hands in his lap. "What they are is evil. Where they come from, no one knows. I have my theories, though."
Basham leaned forward. "Television was invented by the Muggles in the 1920s. It didn't really start becoming popular until the late thirties, early forties. After my first encounter with the Stacyx, I started doing research into television, the science behind it. You see, boy, television signals travel all over the world. They even go into space. I believe that some of these television signals may have latched on to magical energy fields throughout the Wizarding World."
"How is that possible?" Hermione canted her head.
"No idea, young lady. But I think that blending of energy turned television programs into entire alternate universes. You may be watching Andy Pandy or Quatermass, but when those shows end, the characters continue living their own lives. But along with creating these new universes, it somehow gave birth to the Stacyx."
"So how do they kill Muggles?" Harry rubbed his hands on his pants. "In all the reports I've seen, there are no signs of violence on any of the victims."
"And there wouldn't be. They get you up here." Basham tapped a finger against his temple. "Psychic powers, boy. The Stacyx, they feed on human brain waves."
"What for?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"That's how they maintain their powers. They wait, behind TV screens, wait for Muggles to sit down and watch the telly. There have been studies done that show when Muggles watch TV, their brains produce what's called low alpha waves. What it does is slow down brain activity, almost to a comatose state. The Stacyx can't penetrate an active brain, but a brain that's inactive, they can slip inside and extract every single brain wave from their victim."
"So what do they use these brain waves for?" asked Harry.
"They can use it to enhance their strength. Some of the Stacyx I came across had to be three times stronger than a human being. They can also fire these psychokinetic bolts from their heads. Mind blasts I called them."
"I saw all that myself last night."
Basham nodded and went on. "But the most dangerous bit about them, if they siphon off enough human brain waves, they can actually open a portal between the TV world and our world."
Harry cocked his head to the side. "But wouldn't they have to do that anyway to get people's brain waves in the first place?"
"Not necessarily," said Hermione. "Remember the Diversus Cubes we used in Astronomy Class in our Sixth Year? The energy needed to move a physical object from one world to another would be much greater than simply transmitting a ghost image between worlds."
"Yes, you're a smart one, aren't you?" Basham flashed her a brief smile. "And that's what the Stacyx tried to do. Absorb enough brain waves to open portals all over the U.K. and invade our world. But they needed to do it in one coordinated attack. With all the different programs and channels and people tuning in and turning off constantly that would be hard to do. So they had to wait until there was one program that the vast majority of the country would watch. And in 1953, they had that opportunity when the coronation of Queen Elizabeth was televised. Over twenty million Muggles were watching that day."
"How did you stop them?" Harry leaned forward.
"It wasn't easy. I had to go into their world. Quite the experience. It wasn't only British programs I wound up in, but shows from America, France, Canada. I even recruited some television characters to help me fight the Stacyx. Robin Hood, the one played by Patrick Troughton, before he went on to star in Doctor Who. Superman, the one played by George Reeves. The Cisco Kid. Actually, I had lots of cowboys with me. The Yanks were obsessed with cowboys back in the fifties. Anyway, we managed to lure them into this documentary on the Titanic. They all went down with the ship. Not very good swimmers, thank God. And that's how yours truly saved the country. Saved the entire world for that matter."
"You can't prove any of this, I suppose?" Hermione folded her arms.
Basham sneered at her. "What I just told you is one hundred percent true."
"Then how come we couldn't find any record of the Stacyx or your encounter with them in any books or files at the Ministry of Magic?"
"Oh, you have the Minister of Magic back then to thank for that."
The sneer on Basham's face became more pronounced. "You thought Cornelius Fudge was dreadful, you should have seen the way Elias Gridley ran things. That sorry excuse for a wizard was an unabashed bigot."
"How so?" asked Harry.
"He was a Muggle hater. Had no use for them. Same for Muggle-borns. Thought they were lower than the ground a dragon drops its dung on. He tried to purge the Ministry of us."
"You're Muggle-born?"
Basham nodded at Hermione. "And proud of it. Gridley looked for any excuse to fire Muggle-borns. Almost got rid of me a few times, but the head of the Aurors Office argued on my behalf. At the time, I sent more dark wizards and witches to Azkaban than any other auror. Hard to sack a man with that record . . . until the Stacyx came along."
Basham slumped back in his chair. "I told Gridley we should send more aurors into the television world, make sure all the Stacyx were dead. He didn't want to hear it. It was only Muggles at risk, after all. And that's when he saw his opening to get rid of me. He claimed I made the whole thing up. He even destroyed all records of the incident."
Basham paused, fire blazing in his ancient eyes. "Gridley fired me, but that wasn't enough for the old bastard. He spread all sorts of lies about me. Accused me of drunkenness and mental instability. Said I'd spent a stretch at the mental ward at St. Mungo's. He ruined my reputation. I tried fighting back, campaigning to get him out of office, and all the while getting my hands on televisions, just in case the Stacyx tried to invade our world again."
"What happened with Gridley?" Hermione asked.
"Voted out of office three years later. So that just left me to search for any surviving Stacyx. I spent thirty years journeying through shows, enlisting the aid of hundreds of television and movie characters. James Bond, Captain Kirk, Batman, the first five Doctors, Marshal Dillon, Napoleon Solo. We never found a trace of the Stacyx. If I thought a broadcast would have an exceptionally large audience, I'd watch it, just in case. The first moon landing, various Olympics, Charles and Diana's wedding, Who Shot J.R. But nothing happened. Finally I convinced myself I indeed finished them all off on that Titanic documentary. Then I looked back and realized I'd wasted over thirty years of my life, and had nothing to look forward to. No job, no family. I could have had one. I was engaged back then. After I was fired, she stuck by me . . . for a while. She started to worry I was becoming too obsessed with Gridley and the Stacyx. Then . . ." Basham bit his lip. "Then she started to question whether the Stacyx were real. Question my integrity. Buy into all those lies that maggot Gridley put out there. December 21st, 1953. That's when she left me. Hell of a way to celebrate Christmas time. But maybe I should have seen it coming. My fiancé was never one to accept anything on someone's mere word, even if that someone was the person she loved. But I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, boy."
Harry furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry. What do you mean?"
"I'm sure you know exactly what my fiancé's like."
Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. Who the hell was Basham talking about?
"She was one of your professors at Hogwarts. And now she's running the place."
Shock froze Harry's next breath in his chest. His mind shut down, unable to accept the fact.
Bentley Basham had been engaged to Professor McGonagall.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The pronunciation of the TV monsters is Sta-six. The Biloko are dwarf-like creatures of African folklore. Calliope is the name of the Greek muse of epic poetry. The Diversus Cube Hermione refers to is featured in my fanfic Walking Through Worlds. Next up, Harry enlists more old friends to help track down the Stacyx.