Notes for the convenience of readers: * 'Cerlikh' is when Voldemort was defeated, and all his Death Eaters either killed or severely affected by his death. * The 'Vanie' are the hereditary 'Nobles' of Wizardkind.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 12
It was the fourth October, nearly noon. Hermione cuddled a tiny baby in her arms, while Tracey watched from her bed. She had an excellent Healer, there had been no pain and no strain, or not that she'd felt, yet she was very tired. The Healer told her it was perfectly natural, that her body was undergoing changes, and the fatigue was to tell her to rest.
Vayden entered softly, went to her straightaway, and kissed her tenderly. She was the honoured first wife and mother of his son. He presented her with a valuable necklace to mark the occasion, even before turning to inspect the crumpled face of his new-born son. Hermione smiled at him. He'd been worrying, pacing the floor for the whole of the three hours it had taken since the Healer had done a check, made a spell, and told Tracey that it would be today. She asked, "Do you want to hold him?"
Vayden looked at the tiny baby almost with suspicion, and asked, "How?"
When he was established sitting next to his wife and holding his son, Tracey extended a hand and touched his face before closing her eyes. She could sleep now. The baby was to be called Reginald, after his grandfather. Van Reginald Carlyle had died just a few days before, and Tonius and his wife were preparing to move into his spacious suite of rooms. Tonius was now the Vanie, Vayden's brother Linley the heir. Until Linley sired a son, this little Reginald was in line after Linley and Vayden.
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At Kreighley, Kevin Stern expertly swung his wheelchair to where Paul Knight was drawing. Paul had his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth, presumably to help him concentrate. Kevin asked, "What you up to, Paul?"
Paul said, "Birthday card."
"Let's see."
Paul handed it over, and Kevin studied the card, the crude drawing of a fishing boat, and the painstakingly drawn letters. Paul said, "Warren wrote, and me to copy. So I don't do it wrong, you see?"
"Lee? That's the one you talk about. Is it his birthday?"
Paul said proudly, "Today, and Mr. Davies is going to take me to the Chase place for a surprise for him."
Kevin regarded the 'cupboard kid,' still timid, still frightened of adults, but far better than he'd been. He asked, "You going alone with him?"
Paul said, "Yes," sounding a little confused.
Kevin shook his head, "Don't you remember our rules? Never be alone with a screw."
Paul stared, afraid that he wouldn't be allowed to go. He always followed the rules, even when he didn't understand them. He asked timidly, "Is Mr. Davies a screw?"
"Of course he is. Don't you know anything?"
Paul stared down at his birthday card, unsure what to do. Kevin said with an air of benevolence, "I'll tell you what. I'll come too, and then you won't be alone."
"Will you? Thanks Kev."
"That's all right, Mate. We'd best tell the Boss."
A little later, Vera Chase found her husband. She was still chuckling as she told the story, that Paul had asked Ross if Kevin could come with him because he wasn't allowed to be alone with a screw. "Ross said he was quite sure he didn't know the reason, and had no idea that the request might be seen as insulting."
"Kevin? That's the one in the wheelchair, isn't it?"
"That's right, but Ross says he won't need any special help except for getting the chair up steps, and anyway, there'll be you and Ross, as well as the boys to help if he needs help."
"Do you think he'll be rude?"
"Ross says he's always rude."
But Kevin wasn't rude to anyone that evening, just enjoying the party, and looking after Paul, who wasn't sure he liked so many grown-ups around. Not that there were many, - just the Chases, and then there were two loud young men who used to be at Kreighley the same as Lee did, and grown-up women too, Sarah, and Ian had brought a girlfriend, a bright blonde who laughed a lot. He didn't like her, and stayed well away. Dan and Jason were with them for a time, but then they joined the gathering of young men instead.
On the table was a pile of presents, and Lee had shown his pleasure as he opened each one, from the birthday card from Paul, to the mobile phone with paid-up two year plan from the Chases. Paul was watching him from his position beside and slightly behind Kevin, who wasn't afraid of anything.
Harry had been laughing with the other young men, but then brought over some soft drinks and lollies for the pair sitting to the side, and asked what was happening at Kreighley these days.
Kevin answered him, "There's a new kid, just eleven, but he's a bugger. He yells at everyone, and won't make friends."
"Is he frightened of people?"
"Not unless hitting and kicking at anyone who comes close is being frightened."
"It makes you wonder what sort of place he came from."
Paul said, "He comes from space. He told me."
"I heard he told someone else he was in the circus."
"What's his name?"
"Stinker Murray."
"Stinker Murray?"
"That's what he says his name is, but the boss calls him Theodore. He hasn't been to school yet."
"Stinker. You know for a while when I was little, I thought my name was 'Freak,' or maybe 'Boy,' because that was what I was called. It was a while before I even knew my name. Maybe this 'Stinker' is the same."
Kevin spoke sceptically, "Maybe, and maybe it's because he's a bloody stinker."
Harry shrugged, and said to Paul, "Your card was good."
"I've got a special teacher, Mr. Campbell. He has Aaron as well. He's a big boy but he missed out on a lot of school, he said. And the rest of the time it's Mrs. Bettison, but I don't like her."
Kevin put in, "Campbell's the Sports teacher. And he helps me exercise. He's a good bloke."
"So Mr. Clark's gone?"
"There's no Mr. Clark."
Paul asked, "Are you learning things too?"
"History, some Geography, Environmental Studies, English Literature, but I'm already regretting signing up for that. The first book assigned is just a medley of pretentious maunderings, I thought."
"What's pretensh...?"
"Pretentious maunderings. Using long words only to sound clever, pretending to significance when you're only waffling..."
Kevin suddenly chortled, and confided, "Donna does that."
Paul nodded, "I never know what she's talking about. I've asked if I can stop going."
Harry grinned, "If you're improved enough to ask that, then I expect she'll take full credit for it."
"You know Donna?"
"I've met her. She does the best she knows."
"And I'm growing really fast. I have to see the doctor only every month now, but every time he says I'm taller and heavier."
James Chase raised his voice, "Lee, you have to cut the cake now."
Kevin regarded it critically, and asked, "Why are there no candles to blow out?"
Harry grinned as he explained, "That's Vera. She thinks that people blowing over food is barbaric, unhygienic and very possibly criminal!"
Kevin laughed, but Paul only looked confused, as Harry went to be hugged and congratulated on reaching the age of eighteen. He felt a little guilty, especially when he noticed Ross Davies looking sceptical. The 'Harry Potter' that certain people had been searching for was named as nineteen. But admitting that he was living under a false identity might make Vera worry that his adoption wasn't legal. And quite soon, he intended to marry as Ricky Lee Chase, usually known as Lee Chase.
The evening wore on and Paul started to become a nuisance to everyone's surprise, and Vera said something about 'red cordial maybe.'
Ross said calmly, "He's just over-excited. I'll take them home soon."
"I suppose he's never been to a party." But then Kevin called Paul over and instructed him to show him to the toilet. Paul was much quieter when they returned, and didn't dream of arguing when Ross said they were leaving.
Harry waved them off, and said to Vera and James, "He's far better, isn't he?"
"I never expected him to start running around and yelling like that."
"Kevin's an interesting boy. I spoke to him for quite a while."
"Does he know you were at Kreighley?"
"No, and I didn't tell him. Paul whispered to me early on that he's told no-one at all."
James said, "Ross said there hadn't been any enquiries recently. On the other hand, Tremaine told me that there's still a price on your head."
"I was talking to Ross. He was saying that Nick doesn't think he can get into the course he wants, apparently to study to be a solicitor requires very high marks. So he's planning to repeat the year, looking for higher marks."
"The University of Cornwall? Does that offer the course?"
"I'm not sure, but I spoke to Tremaine, and he said that even if it did, it had too little prestige. Anyway, I admitted to Ross about the Tom Foundation, and he didn't turn a hair. He said that Nick could stay an extra year if he wanted, no problem, and I told him the Tom Foundation would fund his course wherever he wants."
James asked, "How many of the Kreighley boys know you're still living close."
"I saw Nick and Malcolm down the street the other day. They were with a couple of younger ones. I know they saw me, but they didn't acknowledge me. Probably many of them know, but they're not broadcasting the knowledge."
"I'm very pleased to hear it."
Harry yawned, and Vera said, "Bed, I think. Dan and Jason have already gone."
The following afternoon, Kevin was regarding 'Stinker' thoughtfully. Was it possible he really didn't know his own name? Certainly 'Theodore' seemed totally inappropriate. He watched as one of the older boys brushed against him, and the small boy whirled on him, fists raised, ready to attack. They were hardly ever told any background of the new boys who arrived now and then, but he'd been at Kreighley over a year now, and knew that many of them had come from very poor homes.
He called out, "Hey Stinker. Come here."
Stinker turned and regarded him with a sneer, then sauntered over, a nasty expression on his face. "Just b'coz yer a cripple don't mean I won't beat the crap out o' yer!"
Kevin raised an eyebrow, "Why would you? I can't chase you, and my arms are getting too weak now even to hit hard. I can't hurt, so there's no need to hit me."
Stinker looked a little uncertain, and then said, "Maybe I just like hurtin' fuckers like you. And you'd be easy to hurt."
"Probably not actually. I'm a Kreighley boy, you see. And Kreighley boys stick together. If you tried to hurt me, someone would stop you."
Stinker stuck his hands in his pocket, a defiant expression on his face, "So what you want then, Cripple!"
"I don't like your name. You don't stink any more than anyone else, and Theodore is for wimps. I reckon you've gotta have a new name. Like a dog that gets a poncy name as a pup, but then grows up."
Stinker just stared, a little intrigued, a little wary.
Kevin continued, "I knew a dog once. He was brown, a bit freckled-like, and he used to scrap with every other dog that came near. He had scars all over him from fighting. It was a Staffordshire, someone said, and they called him Staffy. I reckon I'll call you Staffy too, after the dog."
Stinker was utterly confused. A kindly approach would be rejected. He knew not to be fooled. An aggressive attack was to be fought tooth and nail. But this... he didn't know how to handle this. And it was the cripple, who couldn't hurt him if he tried. He wheeled away and stalked off.
He was rolling over and over in the dirt fighting with Tim later in the day, but when Ross rebuked him, and called him Theodore, he told him aggressively, "My name's Staffy."
"Then Staffy, I want you and Tim both to sweep the sand off the beach ramp as punishment for fighting."
Staffy didn't move, and Tim said, "Come on Staffy. The beach brooms are in that lean-to next to Lionel's shed."
Slowly, acting as if it was entirely his own idea, Staffy moved towards the said lean-to. Tim was three years older than Staffy. Staffy had started the fight. As they were sweeping the beach access, kept clear of sand for Kevin's wheelchair, Staffy asked, "What's the matter with the cripple?" It was the first time he'd said something that was simply conversation.
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Sarah said to Harry, "Father has agreed finally. No big formal wedding, just a quiet one with family and a few friends, but Mum insists on a church wedding, even though she scarcely ever goes. She's Church of England."
Harry nodded, "So's Vera, and I don't mind."
"I thought the 28th December or close to it. That way you can have Christmas with your family, then I was wondering..."
She stopped, and Harry looked questioning. Sarah blushed, "You did say you have lots of money. I'd like a stay at a tropical island. Someplace where we can get sunburnt, and where there's tropical fish and coral."
"Sounds great."
"And Father says I have to allow him to pay all expenses for the wedding, also to go to a special dressmaker that Aimee knows. And he'll pay for the dress, especially designed for me."
"I thought Aimee was no longer with him."
"I thought so too, but it seems he still sees her, even though there's a new girlfriend." She shrugged, "Probably just because Aimee left him for a change, he's suddenly interested again. It would be ironic if they wind up marrying after all."
"The 28th December." Harry smiled, "I look forward to it."
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Harry continued to socialise among wizards, but nearly always, it was only among the less important families according to Narcissa. She was still trying, talking to her old acquaintances among the Pure-blood fraternity, and pointing out that he had the favour of the Minister for Magic. No matter how important the Vanie were, the Minister for Magic still held ultimate power. On her strong advice, he didn't fraternise with the Muggle-borns. According to her, it could make them targets. He suspected it was more because she didn't want his image further tarnished.
In the middle of November, Narcissa had her few dances with Harry after the dancing instructor left, announced him competent, and then smiled at him, "An important landmark. On the 15th December, there's to be a function to welcome two new Wizemgamot members, and I've been promised an invitation for you, a partner if you like."
"What sort of function?"
"About two hundred people, a big dinner, the formalities investing Alexander Scrimgeour as a member of the Wizemgamot, also Tonius Carlyle, who's Vanie now his father's dead, and no doubt a few speeches."
"It sounds deadly."
Narcissa was stern, "These are the people who matter, and you're to be among them. Sirius and I, of course, representatives from the Vanie families and from most other of the Pure-bloods. A few Mixed-bloods probably, for effect, but there are few of those who are viewed as significant."
"I suppose Neville will be there, probably Vayden and Hermione."
"Vayden and Tracey, no doubt. Almost certainly not Hermione."
Harry said, exasperated, "Is there nothing that will have a Muggle-born accepted?"
"Not that I know of," said Narcissa in a dispassionate voice.
Harry shook his head, and said, "I suppose I'd best attend."
"Sirius wants you to find a partner, but check with me before inviting anyone."
"Would it be a good idea?"
"A nice Pure-blood girl would add immensely to your prestige."
"Luna Lovegood?"
Narcissa said decidedly, "Not Luna."
"Anyone else might think I mean something with the invitation, and I don't."
"Marrying well is the absolute best thing you could do."
Harry laughed, "Oh, I intend to marry well, but I'm quite sure you won't approve."
Narcissa regarded him narrowly, and then announced, "If you marry a Muggle, I wash my hands of you."
"I haven't yet, and maybe you should wash your hands of me. I don't think you have a hope of gaining me any true acceptance."
"How was the Supper Party last night?"
"Much as usual. No threats, but I spent most of the night fending off curious questions by nearly everyone there. Ernie and Jacinta were fine, but there were a couple of girls who spent the night acting like fools."
"Drooling like love-struck adolescents?"
"Pretty much. I really don't understand it."
"They would have been Muggle-borns probably, whose lives you may have saved, or that's what many of them think. They probably have one of those rather objectionable posters."
"One showed me a large card with that picture. I think I prefer the outright contempt of people like the Bowens and Ryans."
"Have you seen those?"
"Just a sneer when I went through the new Aniragia. Oliver was with me."
"Albuston. You might not like it, but it's called Albuston."
Harry wrinkled his nose, "To think he was my grandfather! And Hermione's father, and Mary's."
Narcissa nodded, "And many others."
There was a much more exclusive supper party a few days later, and someone said, "I hear the Muggle is to be attending the Investiture Dinner."
There were murmurs of disgust, and someone said, "He only has one Auror as protection," and Hugh Warrington, now head of the Vanie Council, said coolly, "We will not attack Aurors."
Another of the Vanie, Clarence Ryan, asked, "As long as we're not seen?"
Warrington said positively, "Not the Aurors. We are not criminals."
"Potter?"
Warrington shrugged, "If you like, as long as it's totally discreet."
Each of the eight men of the company had lost friends and family as a result of Cerlikh. Lester Steinway had not only lost his father and brother because of Harry Potter, but the affair had cost the Steinways the hereditary position as Chairman of the Vanie Council. The Warringtons had taken over, and could easily rule for several generations as the Steinways had done. Ryan was only Vanie because his elder brothers had died as Death Eaters, and while pleased with his elevated status, he also relished the thought of having the youth at his mercy. All the Ryans had a reputation for cruelty.
Jessem McLaggen wasn't interested in having the boy for sex, though he'd been willing to pay a large amount of money for him once. He very well remembered how furious the boy had looked when he'd inspected him. He'd seemed so tempting then, an attractive, helpless boy, former wizard, crippled by Albus Dumbledore. Sex had been important to him then, but he'd lost interest quite soon after that meeting. It had never occurred to McLaggen that his impotence had anything to do with Harry's anger.
If he found him? The others might like him of course, and he wondered what advantage he could gain if he did come across him. Maybe it was worth making some effort in the endeavour.
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Late in November, Sarah and Aimee were in South Kensington, not far from 'Madame la Modiste,' the fashionable seamstress who was making Sarah's wedding dress. The coffee shop they were patronising had their prices at three times what Sarah considered reasonable, but Aimee had waved off her irritation at the overcharge, merely saying she wanted coffee, and it was a handy place for Lee to meet them. He and Sarah were to spend the night at the home of Sarah's father before returning to Falmouth.
Aimee said to Sarah, "Are you sure you won't colour your hair?"
Sarah shook her head, and Aimee sighed. Sarah said, "I have agreed to wear a corset."
"It's a torslette, not a corset. It will make your waist more narrow, and accentuate your figure. You'll look beautiful. Final fitting on Friday."
"How is your Bridesmaid dress going?"
"It's not important. This is your day."
Sarah smiled at the young woman. It was a real surprise that Aimee had become a friend. She'd never had any real friends at school, no enemies either, merely friendly or indifferent acquaintances. And yet this one, whom Lee still regarded as a bit dim, had shown her real consideration, real help.
Aimee said casually, "Tremaine has had a fight with Belinda. Serves him right for finding a girl with brains. He should have stuck to the doormat type like me."
"Do you want him back?"
"Remember when you told him you were not having him as a father any more? He treats you very differently now. He boasts about you to other people even. He scarcely mentioned you before. It's a lesson. If he wants me back, he'll have to work very hard for it. And it's not like people think. It was never because he's a rich man. I have enough money myself." Aimee did three days a week as a paid worker in a charitable organisation that her mother ran, but her wealth had been inherited.
Sarah finished her small cup of coffee, and remarked, "I far prefer a mug for coffee. A cup is never quite enough."
"Is Lee nervous?"
"He says he has not the slightest doubt in the world that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me, so there's no need to be nervous."
Aimee admitted, "I'm envious. He says lovely things to you, he's goodlooking, and he's clever."
"I couldn't believe my luck when he wanted to be my boyfriend. I thought it would probably be just a few weeks maybe. I was aware of him for years, and he always had a girlfriend, and always seemed to be happy with them, even the ones I thought shallow and selfish." She thought she saw Aimee looking a little sceptical, and shook her head, laughing, "And no, I don't think he liked them just for sex!"
"He does like sex though."
Sarah blushed and admitted, "He likes sex, and so do I. And he loves me and he likes me, and I think that liking is very important. Liking lasts, you see, and loving doesn't necessarily last."
"Maybe you're right." Aimee looked a little pensive for a moment, before returning to the subject of the wedding, just over a month away. "Are you nervous?"
"I'm not the nervous type."
Aimee raised an elegant eyebrow, and Sarah admitted, "I worry that something will go wrong, that it won't happen."
Aimee assured her, "Nothing will go wrong."
Harry hurried. He was late and he knew that Sarah worried about him sometimes.
A dirty man with straggly ginger hair watched him, eyes narrowing as he took in the features, familiar from recent photographs supplied by his patron. His name was Mundungus Fletcher, a shady character whose loyalties were for sale, except that he would never dare to cross Jessem McLaggen. It was pure circumstance that he'd happened to spot Harry.
He wasn't sure yet, and only followed. He was good at being inconspicuous in spite of his unkempt appearance. The young man had blonde hair, but there had been a rumour that Harry Potter had been spotted as a blonde Muggle. It had been long assumed that he hid in the Muggle world.
It didn't take long to understand that Potter was soon to be married, the fiancée the one with big breasts. She wasn't pretty, but Fletcher's tastes were basic, and he liked big breasts. If he took the fiancée, she might not only come in useful, but he might easily have a chance at her. Mr. McLaggen could probably do the obliviate spell, though it was tricky, and he couldn't perform it himself. He might simply kill her of course, but he thought it unlikely.
It wasn't until Aimee had gone, and Sarah and Harry were alone, that he hit the centre of Harry's back with his stunner, then dealt with Sarah.
***chapter end***
