9
Saturday May 30, 1998
The future is the unknown
everyone faces every day of their life.
Ignore it and something grand
will pass you by.
From Hobbit Songs & Saying, 2nd Edition.
Neville and a few of the others spend the night at Hogwarts. Old habits die hard. They wanted to be close to Hogsmeade so they could be early at the Saturday market.
The market has been an institution at Hogsmeade for an awful long time. In the old days, the market was more Scottish Quartre days of Candlemas, Whitsunday, Lammas, and Martinmas along with all the paperwork, documents, etc., That sort of died out during the 1950's and now the market was more of a general market where all sorts of odds and ends are bought, sold, or bartered.
Unofficially, the first Saturday of the month was more of a fruit and veg market. To buy in enough to last through the month. Unofficially, the last Saturday of the month was more of a scrap and junk selling and bartering market.
Aside from the special days, every Saturday, all sorts of stuff went on. Stuff like medicine to cure all known ills. Creams to bring back youth. Hair colourations sure to rekindle old flames of yore.
Then there were the questionable magical odds and ends. Many were out and out hoaxes: but not all. Some were inventions of suspect minds. Others offered gloves that would always win at cards. The crystal ball that could always see the future. Mystical cards that predicted the future. Fire dust you threw into a flaming fire so you could see the future. There were a lot that wanted to see the future, but life doesn't work that way. The future is what you make it and is not written down in some book to be followed blindly. Not all witches and wizards believed that. Many were on the lookout for a fast and easy ride into the future that, sadly, usually became a dead end full of sorrow and disappointment.
There were many more oddities, mechanical oddities, plant creatures, wispies for girls, disappearing strings for boys and there ever favorite squeaking frogs for toddlers to chase and squeeze. Something for everyone who had coins in their pocket or something better to barter with.
Knowing the last Saturday would be a good day, Fred Weasley made sure Weasley's' Wizard Wheezes had a stall there. This was the place he tried out the more exoteric and untested items that may or may not make it into the shop at Diagon Alley. Above the general market hubbub Neville could hear Fred's moniker tune blasting out just before Fred's understudy started his sales patter.
Neville was about half way between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts when he saw in the distance a small figure walking beside a horse drawing a small Shepard's caravan. Neville squinted hard as the sun was not really up to burn off all the morning mist.
The person in the distant raised a staff in welcome. Neville replied by offering half a wave. Then Neville could hear his high-pitched voice coming across the fields. The words were hard to hear but Neville did grab some of the words. "Don't some mothers 'ave 'em" and "I'm all there with me cough drops." Then there was a louder "Ooh flippin' eck" as he dropped his walking staff on the ground. Neville had to smile at this comic act going on across the way.
That's when he heard a yell go up from someone back in Hogsmeade, "Boy Blue is back!" The small man waved his staff high above his head in acknowledgement.
Neville had heard stories about Boy Blue ever since he walked into Hogwarts. He, along everyone else, discounted them as Boy Blue never came by Hogwarts only Hogsmeade and only came by once every year or was it two. It could be three years. No one kept track of boy Blue, as it was pointless. Boy Blue was one of the very few itinerant traveling tinkers still alive. He was old, very old. How old he was, no one knew. He traveled all over the place. Where he came from or where he was going, nobody knew. All they knew was when he arrived and departed.
The only sure thing about Boy Blue was his stories. Stories he would tell as he performed menial tasks while people sat about listening to tales of different people in far away places. No one knew if they were true of not, it didn't really matter as Boy Blue was such a good storyteller that everyone became memorized as he worked away.
Because he came by so infrequently, the usual work he did these days was sharpening knives. Carried on the side of his caravan was an ancient stone that was turned by peddling while sitting on the one seat.
As Boy Blue got closer to Hogsmeade, Neville saw more and more people apparating then running out to greet the traveler. Everyone wanted to hear his stories. This was such a big event that entire families started apparating once it was known it was really him..
Neville picked up the pace as he headed to Hogsmeade joining in the crowd. He was surprised by the number of people there to greet the traveler. When he reached the outskirts of the assembled group, they broke into the well-known traveler song, We all clap hands when the traveler comes. Which was quickly followed by, The traveler comes to do work while mother cooks the meal. Everyone knew the songs as they were taught to every small wizarding tot.
Once the crowd gathered about the tinker he was lost from view. That was no surprise as he stood about five foot, in his stocking feet.
Seeing the small tinker was not the point, the point was to listen to him and that is what everyone wanted. It was all part of the tinkers ritual. He was expected to sing for his supper. In that light he took down his knife grinder, got is set up and yelled out, " Where are those bloomin' knives?"
In response a great yell went up, "Boy Blue is back!"
Slowly the families spread out their blankets for the family to sit on. Where little tots could actually see the one and only Boy Blue. Others settled down while leaving a path to Boy Blue. At the head of the line on the path was Aberforth. In the two baskets he was carrying were every knife in his establishment.
Boy Blue poked about in the first basket and said, "Is that all? I thought your place was bigger!"
Again, another big roar went up, "Boy Blue is working." So ended the initial ritual between Boy Blue and wherever he stopped and worked. Who came up with that opening batter, no one knew. Something's are too old even for history to know.
With everyone sitting down, or standing at the back, Boy Blue became visible. Boy blue was dressed in black shoes, knee-high socks, gray shorts with matching school blazer and cap. He did not look or sound anything past 12 ¾. Then Neville saw Boy Blue's eyes. They were vivid blue in the center of very white eyes. The colours were in sharp contrast to the sun darkened skin tone. No wonder people called him Boy Blue.
A tentative hush descended over the assembled crowd as they waited for the first story.
Boy Blue reached into the basket and pulled out the first knife that was to be sharpened. The wheel began to spin and the sparks began to fly. Then the first story began to be unfolded.
The first story was of a small family group living by a large waterway colored red. From the shoreline they could hear the distant putt-putt of a slow moving motor launch. The launch was owned by an alien from a planet that had blown up because no one could get along with each other. The alien was far away from home when it happened and made it back to this planet. Other stragglers also made it. After much talk, the realization that life had forever changed. No home, no family, no future… Without a home to go to, what was the point going anywhere?
Many of these travelers could not handle the loss and went mad. Some sank into the bottle while others tried to accept the new reality and make a go of it. The alien was one that was trying to assimilate into the new reality as he went from one small settlement to another. The alien had the knack of fixing things the locals could not understand. The alien thought it strange that the locals did not have these skills, as there were many ruins of an advanced civilization still visible. The ruins contained the machines of advanced complexity while these locals went through life scraping by. They farmed a little and fished a little more. Their style was to be self-sufficient. However, because they could not fathom the junk about them, their progress out of the basics was far from clear. That is why they were always listening for the phut-phut of the alien coming by to fix their broken tools and other basic implements.
The alien had been wandering about along the red waterways for an awful long time. Knowing his home planet was gone, was one thing accepting his home planet was gone, was something else.
Along with his constant wanderings came a realization that time was not on his side. He could continue to wander or, one day, stop and settle down. To wander or to stay was the battle of his heart. And at this small place was a local beauty. Not the beauty of his home planet, the beauty that this place produces. To understand and see the beauty of the locals only comes from time and an open mind. Of all the books the alien kept, was a well-thumbed copy of the New Testament. Though the eyes of the good book he came to ponder on the universal nature of the words it contained. This is where the alien formulated the belief, the strong belief, of the universal nature of people. All different people gathered under the wings of a universal Father in heaven. This universal notion did not go down too well with the other travelers as they thought they were superior than the locals. The Alien would smile at such notions realizing that within fifteen or twenty years the only ones left would be the locals. The question the alien had was, could the locals survive on the path they have chosen? Who would fix their tools? Who would mend their pots? Who would teach them sewing techniques?
Then Boy Blue concluded the story with, "The alien fixed the accumulated pots and pans like a good traveler should. The difference being was a local girl. Daughter of a family the traveler knew well. Since it had been a long while since he was last there, the daughter had grown into a well-proportioned local.
"The alien left but the mother knew the signs. They are universal signs of a desire. That deep-seated desire of a family. A family with children. The mother knew the traveler would be back soon. She knew he would be back because she was a mother, knew the looks of men, and the soundness of the traveler's heart."
With that, Boy Blue sat back and sighed. The spell of the story slowly dissipated and some of the assembled mothers were noted for wiping tears from the eyes.
If there is one thing common among wizards and witches was an abject fascination of tails from a long time ago in a galaxy far, fat away. Sci-Fi stories of aliens, space travel, or tails of strange planets were held in high esteem. The juxtaposition of being a witch or wizard and lovers of sci-fi stories has been well studied over the centuries by many eminent doctors, philosophers and physiologists. Reams and reams of parchments have been written and quickly forgotten. No one has clearly fathomed out the fascination with sci-fi: but it is there..
Despite all their skills no witch or wizard has ever been in space. The closest to space anyone had gotten was on a specially designed highflying broom. It had to be specially designed as the high flyer had to take along a supply of oxygen.
When humankind finally cracked to space code and the Russians put a man into space, virtually all the witches and wizards in the entire world were glued to every TV shot of Uri Gagarin. If you look at Uri's world tour, you will see many witches and wizards in the cheering crowds.
Once the Johnson Space Center was created, many witches and wizards moved there to be close to all this space activity. Likewise, a group of hardened witches and wizards moved to Cape Canaveral and kept a place reserved where witches and wizards could congregate and enjoy the lift-offs.
The love affair with space travel extended to the movies. 2001 A Space Odyssey caused a huge stir in the wizerding community. Stories of a lost black monolith went zooming through the community. Many groups were off trekking here and there… All in search of some lost, or hidden, black monolith. Of course, nothing was found. That fact seemed to drive people further and further to find it.
Searching for the monolith only died down when everyone was climbing mountains looking for a Close Encounter.
After wetting his whistle, Boy Blue started the next story that soon captivated everyone present. Now Neville could understand why Boy Blue was held in such high regard. He was an excellent storyteller.
When all the knives had been sharpened. After the scythes and sickles were ready for work, Boy Blue came to a close. He had been talking for a long while and he was getting dry and peckish.
In his boyish voice Boy Blue said, "See you lot this afternoon. Make sure you bring your knives for me to work."
With that Neville realized his plans for the day hadn't came to much. His wander about the market had gotten sidetracked. Shaking himself back into the present Neville headed off to find Fred's understudy for a chat.
It is about three in the afternoon when the market starts to wind down and pack up. Most people try to be totally packed up by four or so to allow the elves full range over the market area to return it to its usual spick and span condition.
Neville left the market about three-thirty and headed back across the field to Hogwarts. He almost got to the door when a small owl came zooming round his head at am alarming speed. Neville was sure the owl missed his ear by only a few inches. Finally the small bird landed in Neville's outstretched hand. Taking the small note from his beak, Neville unfolded the note and read, "See me tonight at Madame Puddifoot's. Boy Blue."
Neville had not been into Madame Puddifoot's in a long while. 'A curious place for a meeting', thought Neville. During their infrequent visits to Hogsmeade, the usual clientele were youthful boys and girls who didn't mind the tacky and frilly appearance of the place because they were making eyes at each other. Or secretly holding hands under the table followed by a quick peck on the cheek. Sometimes, if the boy was brave enough, a promissory note of undying love and adoration would be passed. These are the ones Madame Puddifoot catered to, as she was a romantic at heart.
Neville headed back to Hogsmeade about six in the evening as he thought that would be a good time to meet, as the note did not say a time.
By the village stable, Boy Blue's small horse was munching on hay in a bag. The close by small caravan looked empty so Neville headed towards Madame Puddifoot's place.
Since school was out and virtually every Hogwarts student was gone, Madame Puddifoot's place was empty except for one small looking person sitting at the back table with three sticky buns on a plate and a glass of milk aside. When Neville entered, the usual welcoming tune rang out. Boy Blue waved Neville over while munching on a particularly chewy bun.
"Bloomin heck, these are good." Boy Blue muttered between bites. "Have one, if you want."
Neville declined politely. He sat there waiting while all three buns disappeared in rapid succession. "Ooh, that hit the spot just right," Boy Blue sighed. Then, after a small pause Boy Blue continued with, "Saw you the other night I did. Zooming about the sky like a bat out of hell. Bloody 'el I thought, 'who the 'el is doing all that zooming' I thought. Seems it was all you. Don't go for brooms and the like. Too flash. I go with the old ways, I do. Much more ordinary and proper, I think. So, what's going on?"
Neville looked long and hard at Boy Blue. He didn't know what to make of him. He popped in out of the forbidden forest and everyone got excited. A few good stories later, he expected to be privy to the entire goings on of the DA's. Not exactly the entrance that endears trust and fellowship.
While Neville was thinking Boy Blue looked past Neville at the looming form at the door. The door to Madame Puddifoot's place burst open and in came the tall and well built Viktor Krum. Neville spun around to hear Krum fire off the first question, "Ver is Potter?"
"In hospital." Replied Neville.
"Is he good?"
"He will recover."
"Ow bad is he?"
"All I know is, he will recover. Go and see for your self."
"I will. But you tell me more. You were there."
Looking from Krum to Boy Blue, Neville decided to play it close. "All I did was find Harry and bring him back. Madame Pomfrey put him in hospital."
After a quick thought, Krum said, "I go there next."
"That's all I know." Concluded Neville.
At that, Krum stood up to his full height and came back with, "You know more. Many, many more. I know." Krum hit his own chest to add emphasis to his statement.
"Then go and ask Harry," Neville said as he felt himself getting stuck in a corner.
"No, you tell more before I go."
"There is nothing more to tell. Found Harry and got him out. Then he went to hospital and is there on the mend."
"Not what I hear at home in Bulgaria."
"Then what do you hear back in Bulgaria?" Neville quickly asked as he changed from defense to attack.
"We hear a lot."
"A lot of what?"
"A lot going on in the forest."
"There is always a lot going on in the forest. Lots going on there all the time." Then, on a wing and a prayer, he added, "Just like Durmstrang."
A surprised Krum came back with, "What you know 'bout the lost forest?"
"'Ere, 'ere, 'ere, you two are like a couple of bloomin' old maids. What are you fussing about?" Boy Blue said in his boyish voice. "We are supposed to be on the same side. The side that won the Battle of Hogwarts."
Krum banged the table with the flat of his hand that made the plate and cup of milk jump about. He then said in a pointed voice, "That does not matter any more. Quidditch is that what counts." Then pointing at Boy Blue, he added, "People like you, too old don't understand. Don't appreciate the game. Don't follow the action. Don't know what I, Viktor Krum will accomplish with Harry as the seeker of today."
"You're barmy… that's what you are," was Boy Blue's reply as he jumped to his feet and made himself as tall as he could. "In two year's time, people won't remember you or your silly game. Chasing a round ball while being hit all the time isn't right. Barmy to do it and barmy to watch. That's what it is, just a barmy game invented at Oxbridge!"
Neville could see the temperature rising in Krum as he face was going bright red in rage. The advantage Boy Blue had was his shortness. Krum could not get down to his level and look him in the eye. Despite the height disparity Krum let loose with, "You are a silly little man who knows nothing of Quidditch. You tell your silly stories… you do that and keep out of my game."
"Your game?"
"Yes, my game. I am Viktor Krum. Everyone in the world knows I am the best seeker in the world. I make games. I win games. I control games. I am the best…"
"Then why do you want Harry?" Neville had to ask.
"Ah, because he is famous. Us two will dominate the game like never seen. We will stomp, we will smash, we will win every game." Then in an off hand way added, "So long as he listens to me: I am the best seeker before and after anyone else."
"Cocksure aren't you?"
Somewhat puzzled, Krum asked, "What is cocksure?"
In a somewhat casual manner, Boy Blue, dismissed the question with a, "Oh, it's not important. What is, is you coming down to earth and listening to reason. Regular people aren't that interested on your silly game. There are more important things going on like, world peace, starving children in Africa, or insulted aborigines in Australia. Stuff like that is more important."
"Ha, you look small. You miss the game. You see things wrong. The game is what brings people together…"
At that point Ludovic Bagman came in the shop. The conversation dynamics changed.
"There you are," beamed Krum.
"Who's the short guy?" Bagman asked.
"I am the well known teller of tall tails, Boy Blue by name and by reputation."
"Never heard of you." Was Bagman's short reply.
"Well, I've heard of you," said Boy Blue. Then added, "I think everyone who has been ripped off has heard of you."
"Never proven in a court of law." Fired back Bagman.
"You have never seen the inside of a court of law. Always on the run."
"Then I'm innocent. Innocent, I say, until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt."
"It would happen if you stopped running and faced the charges."
"What charges?"
"The ones against you."
"No one from the Ministry has ever presented me with any charge."
"It is a long list of charges, not one charge."
"Then I protest my innocence because I am innocent."
"Shortly you will be caught."
"Short you are. Shortly I can wait. And then everything shall be just fine. That's right, isn't it Victor?"
"We shall win the league, the shield and the European Cup. We shall rule over all Europe. No one will be able to stop us. Our power, our might, and our skills shall be so far ahead of anyone else, we shall be famous for ever." The power with which Krum delivered his prediction was awe-inspiring.
"Yes." The captivated Bagman said in deep respect with which Krum delivered his predictions.
Krum was seeing his team's cabinet filled with silverware of all shapes and sizes while Bagman was seeing his pockets filled with golden Galleon's. That's when Bagman said, "I think we better carry on this chit chat outside."
Suddenly realizing where he was, Krum quickly agreed with, "Of course." And the two of them strolled out of the shop to a more quiet part of Hogsmeade, down by the Shrieking Shack.
As Krum and Bagman walked out of the shop, Boy Blue walked to the door and watched then disappear from view. "Now, what do you think the greatest seeker in the world has in common with a out of shape Beater who once played for Wimborne Wasps?" Then looking back out of the window added, "Bet it has nothing to do with the price of tea in China." After taking a swig from a hip flask, Boy Blue turned around and said to Neville, "You don't trust me, do you?"
"Should I?"
"Of course not. I'm a stranger to these parts. The last time I was passing by was a good few years past. Only stayed for a short spell. Time of the World Quid ditch Cup. Bit of a mess at the end so I skedaddled out of town. You know, didn't want to get mixed up with any Imperial trouble, if you know what I mean."
Along with a blank look, Neville gave a deadpan statement of, "No, I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, come on, everyone was there…"
"Where?"
"At the World Cup Game."
"Only the privileged few could go. That doesn't include me." Then Neville quickly added, "I think you have the wrong person." With that statement he started for the door only to be blocked by a fast moving Boy Blue
"Now, now, now… let's not be too hasty, shall we. Just want to get acquainted with the great Neville Longbottom."
"Who said I was great?"
"Come, come, now. There was only one Mr. Longbottom at the Battle of Hogwarts. Only one and that one is you."
"I'm not famous. You see me with pots of Galleons? Are these fancy new cloths? I think you have the wrong person."
Seeing it was a lost cause from the start, Boy Blue moved out of the way of the door. "Suit your self," was all he could think of. This interview went wrong from the very start. As Neville exited the shop, Boy Blue called out, "Be seeing you."
The hospital visit made Neville realize he had not been to see his parents in a short while. Rather than return to Hogwarts he went back to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to see his parents Frank and Alice Longbottom.
As usual, both his parents were sitting in easy chairs by the large magical windows. The scene today was of a beautiful summer's day down by the beach. In the distance there were young children being watched over by attentive parents. Out to sea were several sailing boats accompanied by and ever present RNLI boat. The tide was in, it is always in. On the grass was a large picnic basket full of home made and healthy snacks.
Neville pulled up a chair to join his parent. It took the usual few minutes for his parents to fully comprehend someone had joined them. That's when his mother would pull out a chewing gum wrapper and hand it to Neville. Neville politely said, "Thank you," while leaving off the appellation "mother," as the doctors said she would not comprehend the full meaning of the word and could cause more confusion. Rather than create problems, Neville kept it simple.
Once he had the wrapper, his father would turn to him and start wagging his finger at his son. Never a word was spoken, just a well repeated finger wagging routine. Then Neville would start his summary of his activities since his last visit. Same routine he has been doing for as long as he could remember. While sitting with his parents, Neville often wondered if remembering was a blessing or a curse.
Sunday May 31, 1998
Neville woke early. While sitting on the edge of his bed he had a decision to make. On the one hand, he wanted to go to Glasgow for early morning services. O the other hand, he wanted to visit the forbidden forest and see where the other tracks started. Since the people were not hiding anything, Neville agreed with the previous notion, there must be something there to follow up and track down. Choosing the latter, Neville dove into his trunk at the end of his bed. Somewhere buried there was the necessary camping and tramping togs. Once found and dusted off he visited the kitchen for the necessary supplies. Once done, Neville headed off to the forbidden forest. He was looking for the head of the trail Harry, Hagrid and Mr. Weasley had taken. He knew the other tracks were out there, out there waiting to be found.
Watching Neville strike out on his own was Professor McGonagall. She was observing from behind Hagrid's cottage. Her information was correct. Once Neville was on his way she lifted her hand for a passing owl. One swooped down from a nearby tree. She knew this owl. She quickly scribbling a few notes, then attaching them to the owl's leg. With a slight nod from Professor McGonagall, the owl reached for the sky in an upward trajectory only skilled owls can take.
The morning started badly for Al and his small troop. Charlie was missing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to have a good idea where Charlie went. In a terse voice Al said, "Better go pick him up. That's if he hasn't gone native or turned rogue."
"Good one," Ron said in a jestful response. He missed Herminie's cold look and kick.
"Son, this is no laughing matter. Going native usually ends up with someone being dead. Humans can't swim underwater as long as Selkies." That's when the penny dropped and Ron realized what Al was alluding to.
Everyone dressed quickly, even the two elves at the station. This was a full blown emergency requiring all available hands. All available that is while leaving one to man the observation post. It was a quick and cold breakfast before Al and his small band headed out into the early morning gloom. Everyone had muscles that did not want to work again after the forced march of yesterday. Fighting reluctance and unkind thoughts of Charlie, Al pushed on at a good pace. Soon everyone was back in line following Al as he forced the march.
Al was out front followed by Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Herminie, Ron and the elf from the outpost bringing up the rear.
As time walked by, the clouds thickened to cast a gloom across the small group as they trudged on and on. Finally the rain came. Slowly at first and the heavier by degrees. Everyone, except Ron, had packed their lightweight ponchos. Soon he was totally soaked and tramped on in his wet boots. No one offered sympathy. No one wanted to stop. No one was thinking too far ahead. Everyone was hoping, hoping for the best, while fearing the worst… as they tramped on and on going back down the trail to the waters of Sebus.
On this backward march Al took the troop by the direct route. It cut out almost thirty minutes. As they got close Al raised his clenched left hand. Everyone stopped and crouched down. Al crept forward to see what he could see. From this rise in the land he could see a panoramic view of the waters of Sebus. Seeing nothing he pulled out his optical binoculars. He had forgotten his mystical pair. He scanned this way and that. Nothing unusual was visible.
The water had taken on a gray colour and the rocks were dark with early morning shadows. About the lake, and adding to the picture, was a thin mist. The general appearance was one on neglect and reticence. Seeing no reason to stop, Al waved the team up and onward. They scrambled down to the mist and flat rocks surrounding the lake.
Ron fired a worried look at Herminie. She could not muster a smile for her Ron. Seeing he needed reassurance, Herminie took his clenched hand, pried it open and held it close. She could feel Ron relax a little: only a little.
Al took an anticlockwise route around the lake. It was a large lake and Al and company had no time limit on the search. They clambered up and over rocks. They jumped rocks. Every now and again they would slip and fall. Regardless they pressed on. They pressed on seeing nothing out of the ordinary. They saw the water, rocks and the mist vanishing as the sun climbed higher and higher. They saw the shadows shorten. They saw the water take on a bit of a blue tint. They saw the day shake off its slumber. What they did not see was Charlie.
When they got closer to the end of their circumnavigation of the lake Al held up his clenched fist. The troop dropped down fast as Al got down on his knees and peaked over a rock. Out came the binoculars and he scanned the area. Again, nothing except for a piece of parchment with a stone on it.
Al slid around the rock, crawled over the ground and put his hand up to flick off the rock and grab the parchment. One moment the parchment was there, and the nest it was gone. Everyone was looking about to see if anything happened when Al removed the parchment.
Nothing changed, nothing moved, nothing happened. Al let out a sigh that everyone heard. Playing it safe, Al crawled back to join the others. Once back, he quickly opened up the parchment and read aloud the note.
Do you love me do you want to be my friend
And if you do
Well then don't be afraid to take me by the hand
If you want to
I think this is how love goes
At the bottom of the parchment was drawn two boxes and the instruction to Check yes or no. The 'yes' box was checked in strait bold lines.
George grabbed the parchment and looked long and hard at the two strait lines in the yes box. It was like he did not trust Al or his own eyes. Regardless of what he wanted, George had to accept the bold strait lines indicating 'yes'.
"Shit!" Was Bill's long and painful lament. The hole in the bottom of his stomach just got too big to hold. Percy turned bone white and sank to the ground. Herminie reached for Ron, hugged him close and started to sob.
Seeing his troops falling to bits Al said in a forceful voice. "A note doesn't mean a thing. We got to find something concrete. Something tangible. We are not going to quit now. We have work to do and that is what elves, witches and wizards do. We keep going until we can't go any more." Looking about from face to face, Al could see a small glimmer of hope.
"The only thing this note means is something happened here. We don't know who and we don't know what. Let's focus on that." Al continued with, "Now we need to know the rest of the story." Looking at their faces, Al quickly cobbled together a plan. "Okay, this is the plan. Hermustus and myself will search the area and back down the trail looking for signs etc., We are going to do it the elf way. You lot are to stay put so as not to muddle up the signs on the ground. We shall be thorough, so don't expect us back for a while." After a pause he asked, "Any questions?" There was none. "Good." Then turning to the other elf Al said, "You ready Hermustus?" Hermustus nodded in agreement and the two elves too off sliding around the rocks getting lost to view from the others.
The rising sun did not lift the gloom from the Weasley boys or Herminie. Nor did it change the silence that was surrounding them. Gloom and silence is never a good combination as dejection is just around the corner. Seeing gloominess coming in Herminie said, "Let's talk this through." No one responded.
"Ron?" Even Ron was not in a talking mode. Herminie reached for Ron's chin and turned his face to face her.
Looking at him, face to face, Hermustus said, "Do you remember when I was down and afraid of doing magic on my parents? Do you remember I was doing everything possible not to face the facts of why I was there? Do you remember all the stalling I did? And do you remember what you did for me?" Ron reached up and took Herminie's hand and put it against his cheek.
"You said I had to try of forever wonder what if. Same here. We have to get looking and assume Charlie is alive out there. Like Al is saying, a note is not proof it has anything to do with Charlie."
"You're right," Ron said in a quiet voice. "It's just like not him to be a fierce Quidditch player and then working with fierce dragons in Romania to go chasing Selkies."
"Really Ron, do you see Charlie take a Selkie skin and hiding it? That's not his way."
"But what if Charlie doesn't know she is a Selkie…"
"You said he had heard the stories for a long time. I would hope he knows all the stories by heart. He should know what to do and not do."
"What if he is beguiled by their beauty? You saw how he reacted when Al said we'd be passing by the waters of Sebus. He got all weak-kneed and glazed eyes. I'd say he was in gaga land."
"Okay, he wanted to see one. Doesn't mean he came here and gone swimming to find a Selkie."
"No, but they could have found him swanning about and tricked him."
"Possible, so let's wait for further information from Al and Hermustus. In the meanwhile, let's get a tent up and make a pot of tea. I could use a cup right about now."
Ron slowly got up and pulled out the tent. Once up and the tea brewing, the general feeling amongst the Weasley boys and Herminie raised a couple of notches. Things looked even better when Ron found some hot cross buns of a dubious age and origin. With a few deft moves of her wand, Herminie made sure the buns were safe and editable.
With Al taking his time, everyone found a comfortable spot to take a nap. The marching about, the short night all combined for a good nap.
Al was not amused by the slackness exhibited by his troop members. All asleep at the wheel. Anything could have happened. Regrettable performance. Indicative of the difference between wizards and elves.
Finally, Bill said, "Okay Al, we get the picture. Nothing happened and you are back. So, what did you find?"
After a bit of a bustle about Al started with, "Our research clearly shows a single wizard track coming down the rise to the lake. To a spot over there." Al indicated where 'there' was by pointing in a vague direction that no one could see since they were all standing in the tent. "Our research also shows a second set of foot prints. This second set were barefooted prints, not show prints as was the first. From that I am concluding this was an arranged meeting as both sets of prints were facing each other."
"How close were they to each other?" Bill asked.
"They were very close."
"Close enough for contact?"
"I would say so."
Bill paused in his questioning and asked Bill, "Do you remember Charlie having a pen pal?"
Bill shook his head. "Don't remember Charlie doing much else besides Quidditch out back and reading up on dragons. I'd say he was fixated by those two activities and that's it."
"You're right. But go back further… when we were kids…"
"You lot are older than me. I don't remember that far back."
"I seem to remember Charlie had a pen pal. A pen pal from the northern parts of Scotland. Somewhere about Pennan."
Again, Percy shook his head. "Nope, does not ring any bells."
"Mother thought it would be a good idea for us to have pen pals to bring in diversity and inclusion. I went for a welsh pen pal and Charlie went for a Scottish one. I think the idea was to help us in our diction and writing style: that along with diversity and inclusion."
Herminie joined in with, "Where did this diversity and inclusion come from? Your mother doesn't seem to be a person worried about that sort of stuff."
"Oh but she is. Well back then she was. Wanted us to have a broad view on the world and not our little corner of Devon. I kept it going for about eight years or so. Having a pen pal while at Hogwarts didn't go over too well. That and the other stuff going on meant less time for pen palls. We drifted apart."
"Hang on a moment," Ron said, "You mean you were writing to a non-wizard? A muggle?"
The inference bothered Bill and he replied with, "And what is wrong with having a muggle pen pal? We got on perfectly well for years and years. I learned a lot about life in the Welsh valleys. I never realized how tough life was for muggles. That's when I realized how easy life was for us wizards and made me work harder at Hogwarts."
"So who is he?" Ron quickly asked.
"Who said it was a he?"
"Wow… this is news. You mean you were writing to a female muggle for years and years?"
"Who said it was a girl? Not me."
Seeing there was a game being played on him, Ron backed away with, "Okay, you wrote to a muggle for lots of years and learned lots of things from this person."
With a smug smile Bill replied with, "That's about right, young brother."
"Then why didn't I get a pen pal?" Ron asked in a searching tone.
"You better ask George that question. George and Fred put the mockers on that activity; didn't you George?"
"Not me, it was all Fred…"
"Oh yes, blame the dead one!" Bill fired back. "You two were thick as thieves. If I remember it rightly, they decided to take off on one of father's specially adapted tricycles to visit their pen palls. George on the seat and Fred standing on the back. Dad had it fixed for one of their birthdays."
"Eighth one."
"What were you two doing with a tricycle on your eighth birthday?" Herminie asked
"We went everywhere on that thing. No peddling all the way," George said with a big grin on his face. "And dad loved doing the conversion for us."
"So you egged him on?"
"No… no we didn't. Just suggested that a magical tricycle would be such a neat birthday present to get us around the garden as we worked it."
"And then they took off to see their pen pals. Early one morning it was. Mother thought they were out playing somewhere. Then dad got an owl from the ministry saying his boys had been spotted on the motorway shoulder going as fast as the cars. Caused quite a problem. The ministry had to send a rather large team to put things right. Being so small, like, the ministry had a hard time finding the two of them. By the time they caught up with the boys they had already been to one pen pal in Liverpool…"
"Couldn't understand a word he said," George muttered. His accent was too thick. Didn't come across as that on paper. So we left him standing at his doorstep."
"That's when the men from the ministry found them. Going to the second pen pal somewhere in Yorkshire."
"That's when the ministry suggested to mother that diversity and inclusion should be between our own type of witches and wizards and not with muggles. Father was reprehended for messing about with a tricycle. He was lucky. The ministry thought that since the tricycle was so small there wasn't much you could get up to on it. We still have it somewhere in the shed."
"Your dad removed all the spells from it?" Herminie casually asked.
George gave a big grin and replied with, "He removed everything. Then Fred and I put back a few things. It still goes pretty good… if you know how to use it."
Bill said, "That's all fine and good, but it is not going to help us find Charlie!"
Seeing the conversation was going nowhere, Herminie asked George, "Do you have any extended eyes with you?"
"Who said I had extended eyes?" Then looking at a red faced Ron, George added, "Spilled the beans did we younger brother?"
Ron shrugged his shoulders as George went fishing for a few. He threw them up in the air and they scattered about. "Slight modification, extended flight abilities." George then handed out the requisite fold up glasses to see what the eyes were seeing.
Ron was amazed how his brother kept coming up with new twists to extended eyes even while they were under development.
"What's that?" Herminie said. There was an edge to her voice. One of the extended eyes had gone behind the group, inland, away from the water.
Ron focused his glasses on the same extended eye. "Don't see anything… wait… what's that? A lizard?"
Percy started to walk towards the extended eye. "No," Herminie said. That's no ordinary lizard. Look… just back a bit on both sides. Three of them." With that Herminie and Ron pulled out their wands, the others followed.
Herminie handed her glasses to Al and asked, "Ever seen them before?"
"Sure, they hang about the waters. Never bothered us once. No records of any of them bothering any of us. That's why we keep a log, just incase we forget about it in a few of a hundred years time."
"So, you've seen them before… do you know what they are called?"
Al looked at Hermustus then both shook their heads in unison. Hermustus said, "See them hanging about. Never bothered with them. We have our duty to do. They don't bother us, so we don't bother them."
Ron looked at Herminie before he asked, "And how often do you see them?"
"Oh, maybe every day when we go out looking, gathering and recording." Was Hermustus' thoughtful reply. "Like I said, they seem to move out of the way when we go out. And that is about it."
"George," Herminie said quietly, "Use those extendable eyes to scan the area. See if there are any more of those lizards out there."
George got to work as the eyes buzzed about. "Yes, three more about the two o'clock position and three more about the nine o'clock place."
All Herminie could think to say was, "Shit. Should have brought brooms."
Then Herminie said to Ron, "On me in three. Usual me, you, me pattern."
In an icy cold voice Ron replied with, "Got it."
"Then rapid fire tap and run. Go right first then circle round to the left. Expect things to change: so be on your toes."
"Got it."
"Hang on, what are you two up to?" Bill asked.
"We have a big problem," Herminie said rapidly. "Those lizards are Ysalamirs. Nasty buggers. They make you forget. Saw them down under. If you don't deal with them fast, you forget. Forget as in forget too much. It's like they suck your memories out of you. So, we have a choice: sit here and forget, or deal with them." Looking at Ron, Herminie added, "Remember, I love you and don't you ever forget."
"Or what?"
Herminie didn't stick about to reply. She took off running as fast as she could at the first Ysalamir using her wand to do all sorts of spells and hexes possible. Ron was two steps behind Herminie going for the left side Ysalamir doing the exact same spells and hexes. They had done this before. The pickings were easy as was the third Ysalamir. Then Herminie and Ron took off to the right after the other three Ysalamir. Since Ysalamir can communicate the three on the right had moved seeking cover. Knowing this pattern, Herminie and Ron started firing the same spells and hexes so that they collided with each other. This way the spells and hexes could explode causing smaller spells and hexes that could go round and under rocks. They flushed out and killed the three Ysalamir.
Despite feeling winded, the pair circled about for the last three. These Ysalamir had a head start and were running as fast as possible up and away from Herminie and Ron. Seeing them run, Herminie pulled up short, took careful aim and sent three nasty curses that caught up and killed the Ysalamir.
"Ron, remind me to carry throwing knives while we are out here." A winded Herminie said as they walked back a little slower then they left.
Al was not in a happy mood, "Was that entirely necessary? Now everyone knows we are here. Might as well pull out the carpet and take it easy going back.'
Herminie looked Al square in the face and called out to Ron with, "And make sure we use brooms. All this walking is not good to my feet." Then addressing Al, Herminie asked, "Now we know why all your records have nothing noted. This place is crawling with Ysalamir. Because of them, you remember nothing and record nothing. All those years you have been out here forgetting what you saw and heard."
Al was thunderstruck at what Herminie said. The enormity of her statement was profound as it was damming. Al collapsed in a heap with head between hands.
Feeling somewhat sad for the diligent elves, Herminie added, "You did the best you could. Elves are good at many things, maybe Ysalamir spotting is not one of them."
Al looked up at Ron and Herminie and in a dejected voice asked, "What are we to do? Can't go home with this tail of woe."
"We go in and find out how the others are doing. No point is going back empty handed. Not while we are already out here." Then she quickly added, "If you are in agreement?"
Al got up and took Hermustus for a short walk. To get out of earshot of the others. While they were chatting the Weasley boys and Herminie gathered to discuss their plans.
Bill opened first with, "So, you are saying these Ysalamir have been causing the elves to forget things that go on?"
"Exactly." Was Herminie's short reply.
"And that's why the elves have nothing of note recorded over the past hundreds of years?"
"Exactly."
"And we almost forgot everything because the Ysalamir are close?"
"Exactly."
"And how do we know we haven't already forgotten something already?"
"You haven't."
"How do you know?"
"Because Ron has been recording everything since we got on the carpet. Learnt recording everything would have saved Harry a lot of grief if he had recorded things rather than getting people to trust him. Trust and listening are different things."
Percy chimed in with, "Classic, absolutely classic. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you have never been accused of lying time after time like Harry." Retorted Herminie. Then looking at Ron added, "And we never thought of doing any recording. Too 'in the thick of it.'"
Thoughtfully Percy added, "Do you think it would have turned out any different if you had?"
"Nah," Ron said. "Wer'e not going back to do any what-if's. Let's just keep looking forward."
That's when Al and Hermustus came back to the others. Al spoke with a new air of authority. "I think we should salvage something out of this expedition to find your father by pressing on into the forbidden zone. Now we don't know what we shall find. Could be dangerous. Maybe life threatening. But, all in all, I think we owe it to passed elves that have spend time here, doing their duty as best as they knew how. Yes, and if you are willing, you should join us in this endeavor."
"Adventure, more like it." Was Percy's quiet comment.
Bill looked at the others then said, "We're in." Then added, "Need to do something about all these Ysalamir if we want to get anywhere."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Ron and I have a few tricks up our sleeve to deal with them. Saw them in Australia and survived."
"Seen them before?" Percy asked in a surprise voice.
"How do you think we knew what to do here?" Ron asked.
"Just thought you were lucky."
"Not us when you have Herminie on your side." Replied Ron, "Down under you have every sort of nasty creature known to the wizarding community. So, the locals have developed a vast array of spells, hexes, etc., to deal with them. That way they can live safely."
"Picked up several good defensive means and methods that made our stay much more enjoyable." Was Herminie's comment.
"Don't teach you everything at Hogwarts," Was Ron's reply. "That's why Herminie is such a good reader. Always prepared for the future."
"Well I hope she is ready for our little adventure," Al said in a somewhat grave voice. Then he added, "Let's get back and record what has happened. At least we shall have one report about these Ysalamir in the books… just in case we don't come back."
The walk back to the forward station had Ron and Herminie out front. Herminie was constantly sending off search and seek spells to find Ysalamir. Strangely, there was none to be found the entire journey.
With great reluctance, Al pulled down the journal and made a full and complete report of the day's activities. The two salient points being, Charlie was not found and that Ysalamir were found in the area about the waters of Sebus.
Spirits were revived after a good evening meal where the talk was on everything but the day's activities.
Finally Al broke the spell by saying, "Tomorrow, we go where no elf has gone before. I have sent a message back letting everyone know what is going on and the fact that we are planning to press forward. The new plan is for us three elves, along with your good selves to press forward. Press forward to find Mr. Weasley and solve the puzzle of the missing elves."
Harry had slept soundly as had Ginny: despite sleeping in the chair holding Harry's hand. The nurse bringing breakfast gently woke Ginny with, "Here you are deary. Thought you need a bite. You go first then see if your Harry would take a bite or two." After studying Harry the nurse added, "Once cleaned up I suppose he's not a bad looking lad." That comment made Ginny look closer at Harry. He still looked like he did when he arrived at Hogwarts; all bedraggled looking like he had been dragged through the mud and hedges backwards. The doctors had cleaned up the damage but not removed the dried blood that still covered quite a bit of Harry's clothes.
With wand in hand, the nurse said, "Let's see what we can do to make young Harry here a bit more presentable."
Ginny quickly asked, "You won't get into any trouble: will you?"
"Oh you young people are so funny. That's part of my job. All nurses here are specially trained. We do it all. Never know what's coming through the front doors these days. It could be all hands on deck, or slow as molasses. Every day is different." Then in a more conspiratorial tone the nurse added, "Like the other night. Nasty spell backfired on a drunk. He was all turned inside out, upside down, and left to right. Well, who do you think had to do the dirty work getting the poor soul ready for the doctors to see? Well that's what us nurses do. Took a while, but he will live to drink another day. Sad really when a wizard falls foul of muggle drinking habits. And getting worse, you know.
"Now, stand back a bit as we clean him up a bit… and no copying. These are nurse spells that take an age to get right. I don't want to boot you out of the room while I do it. Okay?"
Ginny nodded quickly. She had heard of the special training St. Mungo's nurses have to undergo. It is classified as rigorous because a deep knowledge of anatomy, physiology, bodily functions, etc., is required. Because it is so rigorous, only the best get to be called 'nurse' at St. Mungo's.
The nurse started to wave her wand while muttering incantations. Slowly the very air in the room got a chill and a blanket appeared over Harry. Then, in a flash that was so quickly, Harry's clothes were removed and replaced with a gown. While the change happened he received a sponge bath, hair was washed and combed, and bandages changed.
"No way!" Ginny exclaimed.
"He's making a good recovery," the nurse added. "You just sit down and put your chops into that food then see if your young fella will eat a bit." With that the satisfied nurse left Ginny and Harry alone..
Ginny attacked the eggs, bacon, sausages with vim and vigor of any self-respected Hogwarts student. While eating she studied Harry. In that quiet moment she realized how close she came to losing him before they had been married. The tears slowly started trickling down her cheeks and onto her food. The love she had for this trouble-finding boy was a feeling she had never felt before. It filled her whole being with joy, wonderment and trepidation. Being together was going to be a big step for both of them.
She cut Harry's food up into small pieces and started to shake Harry to see if he would wake up.
Harry was in the throws of a Quidditch game with a bunch of little tikes. They were playing to kids rules. Even though there were about a thousand kids and only one Harry, Harry was easily holding his own. The game was going his way because there were no parents fussing over their kid getting a small scratch. This time he was attacking every kid as hard as he could. The moves he was using were revolutionary. He executed every move with reckless exactness and style. After unseating everyone, he came to the end of the line. There sat a red head on her broom. Harry tossed back his head and fired off at the last one. In a flash he was attacking with Bludger after Bludger. The girl on the broom flicked this way and that. Every ball missed by less than an inch. She had her timing down that good. In frustration Harry threw one by hand and bashed another one by using the end of the broom. The two bludgers were, again, easily avoided.
Getting close he noted this little girl wore goggles, a white bandana and red cape. A real mix of fashions. Feeling it wasn't worth the effort Harry turned his back and the second he did, he was whacked in the back by a Bludger. He turned but was too slow and got whacked by another on the outside shoulder. He rolled the broom and the third and fourth ball went sailing by. Harry smiled at his smartness. Little did he know they were boomerang balls and they came back with devastating effect. Harry went flying off his broom and crashed into the dirt. Eating dirt was something Harry did not like doing. He punched the dirt. He stomped on the dirt. Then he stood up, dusted himself off and stuck out his hand. His broom responded and on he climbed. He said to himself, 'this girl is going down!' He turned to face the girl only to find she was gone. That made Harry madder than mad. He didn't like people running away.
That's when he realized the girl was right beside him, shaking him. Shaking him on his left shoulder. He gave her a dirty look. How dare this slip of a red head touch him. Him the mighty Harry, the best seeker Hogwarts ever had.
Then she said his name, "Harry," then added, "Harry, time to wake up for breakfast."
The dream slipped through his fingers like the dirt he thought he was eating.
Harry opened one eye. Nothing came in to focus. He tried the other. Again, nothing was clear.
"Glasses." he tried to say. It didn't work.
"What did you say?" Ginny asked.
Again he tried, "Glasses." Again it didn't work.
That's when Ginny pulled out her wand and set up a translation box. "Try again," she said.
After a bit of a struggle, Harry muttered, "Glasses." The translation box got it right.
Looking about Ginny did not find his glasses right away. She found them in a blue glass case in one of the drawers. The nurse's spell did a great job. Unfolding the glasses, Ginny slipped the glasses on, then pushed them into place.
Harry blinked several times. Things weren't much better. Rather than fight he fell back asleep. That's when Ginny took off the glasses and put them safely away. Best to let him recover in peace.
Seeing Harry settle back asleep, Ginny popped out of the room and over to where her mother was. Mrs. Weasley was up eating breakfast. Despite looking fine, Ginny could see the tell-tail signs of stress in her mother.
"I'm off home." Mrs. Weasley said to Ginny. "Are you coming home with me?" The question was a question with a statement buried under the question.
Foiling the implication, Ginny said, "I think I'll stay here with Harry. Wait until he is out of the woods."
"Oh. You are going to stay: are you?"
Holding up her left hand to show her mother the ring, Ginny replied with, "Harry is still not out of it. Better stay and be here… just in case."
Mrs. Weasley felt rejected by what Ginny was saying. Mrs. Weasley wanted to remonstrate with her daughter: then refrained.
Mrs. Delacour said, "I 'elp you 'ome."
"You have been so kind coming all this way to help me. Very much unnecessary, but so glad you did."
Mrs. Delacour beamed then added, "Fleur 'as gone ahead to make the 'ome ready for you. She is a good girl, always 'elping out about the 'ouse. You will like what she is done."
"Sure I will." Then Mrs. Weasley asked the dreaded question, "Any news?"
Ginny looked at Mrs. Delacour while Mrs. Delacour looked at Ginny. Ginny blinked first: it was her mother asking the question. "No news at the moment."
Mrs. Weasley wilted on the spot and fell into a chair. In a quiet voice she said, "No news at all." It was more of a statement than a question requiring an answer.
Ginny looked at Mrs. Delacour and could tell Mrs. Delacour was also feeling the fear that every mother has towards their husband and children.
"I'll send out some owls and see if anyone knows something," Was Ginny's olive branch.
Her mother smiled at the offer, nodded her head and said, "That would be nice. You do that." After looking about Mrs. Weasley added, "I think it is about time I went home. Got to get things ready."
Getting in to St. Mungo's is easy. You have to be sick. Getting out of St. Mungo's is a bit of a challenge since paperwork has to be complete and signed. Making sure a patient was ready to leave fell on the shoulders of a cadre of administrators. They were diligent in their work ethic and accuracy. So, Mrs. Weasley thought a good time to leave would be after breakfast. She informed a nurse of her plan, who, intern informed the administrators that Mrs. Weasley would be leaving and to get all the paperwork ready.
Ginny went back to Harry's room. He was still asleep. She walked over to the bed and pushed away some hair from his forehead. Leaning over she studied Lord Voldemort's scar and how it was dominating the upstart. For a split second she was happy Voldemort's scar was winning. Then she gave a shudder. Thinking about Lord Voldemort was not one of Ginny's happier moments. She quickly packed up those memories and put them behind a locked door.
Ginny walked over to the window and looked out on a gray London day. Quickly turning around, she looked back at Harry, asleep, and was happy they will be together an awful long time together.
From across the corridor came a storm of noise. Ginny could not make out the words but knew it was her mother in full anger. Quickly Ginny went to see what was going on.
As Ginny opened the door, she got an ear full of her mother yelling, "What do you mean I wasn't registered in? Who cares if there is no administrative paperwork… I didn't ask to be put in a bed here… You lot did it to me!" That was followed by, "Paperwork: I'll give you paperwork. I'll give you paperwork like I gave Bellatrix a goodbye wave. You understand?" After glaring between the three administrators, Mrs. Weasley added, "If you want to discuss this further, you can find me at my home waiting for my husband to return."
Seeing no one was interested in continuing the conversation, Mrs. Weasley turned to Mrs. Delacour and said, "Time to leave." No one stopped them. The two ladies marched out of the hospital to find a quiet location to disapparate.
Ginny quickly turned to hide a smile from the hospital administrators. She knew her mother was formidable when it came to her family. With pride Ginny walked back into Harry's room to see a sleeping Harry on the road to recovery.
Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour apparated a short distance from the Burrow. The sky was gray and the wind was up as they bundled themselves against the elements and started off towards the house.
Mrs. Weasley immediately knew something was wrong and was about to say so when Mrs. Delacour said, "Look, there is Fleur. She iz waiting for us."
The house was wrong, the door was wrong and the minute she stepped food into her kitchen Mrs. Weasley exploded with, "What have you done to MY house?"
An indignant Fleur said, "I haz improved it a bit."
"A bit," yelled Mrs. Weasley said as she stood rooted to the spot by the kitchen door. In every direction things had changed, been moved, relocated, modified… literally the place was different in every respect. No longer was it the home of the Weasley's. A home created over the years. Now it was an upgraded house that vaguely resembled the old Weasley house once known as the Barrow before the French decorators moved in.
The kitchen, the heart of the Burrow, was completely changed into a French impression of what a modern English kitchen should look like. Everything was laid out neatly, professionally and in a very logical order. Nothing like the original Burrow. Mrs. Weasley stomped about the kitchen. She opened this and that. Looked here and there. Searched for her favorite sweeping broom and checked out the oven.
A feeling of deep indignation swept over Mrs. Weasley. She turned to face the two well-meaning French women and, in a low menacing growl said, "Get out. Get out right now before I do something I will regret."
Fleur grab hold of her mother's arm and said, "We leave… we leave now. Zis is not good for us to be 'ere." The two French ladies backed out of the house while keeping all eyes on Mrs. Weasley and her hand that was about the wand.
Mrs. Weasley followed the two ladies out of the Burrow and watched them disapparate. Then, and only then did she turn around and take in all the changes that Fleur had done to the Burrow.
To say the changes were minor in nature would be a massive understatement. The garden had been thoroughly gone over by a skilled gardener and changed it from an gnome infested scrap of ground into a venerable feast awaiting further development and management of a serious kind.
The rickety Burrow building had been straightened, rearranged, enhanced and painted in several bright colours. Colours that Mrs. Weasley detested. Her home of so many years; her home where she raised a family; her home of memories; her home that she fussed over; her home was absolutely gone and no amount of magic could ever restore. Then she wondered what her husband would think of it. He loved the house with all it's quirks, cabinets and ways that you et used to over the years. And most special of all, this was the house that Arthur carried Molly into so many years ago. All gone as in gone, vamoose, vanished, disappeared in a puff' of smoke.
That's when Molly plopped down on the ground out front of the house and started to cry. She cried over her dead son. She cried over her lost husband and soul mate. She cried over her missing sons. She cried over her daughter who thought Harry Potter was more important that her only mother. Then she cried because no one was about to offer consolation.
That when she saw a gnome peeping at her from the cabbage patch. Another was looking from the grape vines. Another was peering round the carrots. Then she saw one over by the house tapping the ground so other gnomes could come out and see the matron of the house all despondent and dejected.
Seeing she was the center of attention, and realizing Fleur had not done a proper job eradicating the gnomes from the house, Molly Weasley jumped up, stuck out her hand and yelled out, "Accio broom." In less than a second the broom was in her hand and she was chasing gnomes all over the place and then knocking them into next week with her rather well packed handbag.
The pity party was over and Molly Weasley was back with a vengeance. She worked out all her pent up feeling by taking it all out of the well entrenched gnomes. The battle of the Burrow, as it came to be known in family circles, started that day and Molly Weasley continued to attack anything that looked even remotely like a gnome.
