Busman's Holiday
Harry had a marvelous time wandering about the Parisian shops along the Rue de Seine, near the River. Oxsana was right about the Patisserie next door to Marcel's. They sat for a bit, sipping espresso or, in Harry's case, cappuccino au lait, and nibbling an assortment of pastries. John wouldn't let them stay long, as he was a man about a mission.
"Come along, Squirt. Places to go, things to do, shopkeepers to annoy!" he laughed. "Try to keep a bit of a low profile. Though we can use language charms to speak and understand, we're still distinctly 'foreigners' and don't want to stick out too much, draw too much attention wherever we go, eh?"
"Aw, maaan," Harry complained, just a bit. "Can't we do a LITTLE sightseeing? I've never been further than Little Whinging and Hogwarts!"
"Uh huh. Unless we count driving at 500 feet altitude from London all the way to Scotland?" John teased.
"Well, that shouldn't really count. It certainly wasn't sightseeing. We were terrified nearly the whole way," Harry retorted.
"I see. Well, I don't think today's the day to..."
"John! There's a Disneyland here now! Euro Disney just opened a few months ago in Paris! Surely we could just take a quick look? Maybe a really fast walk through, maybe one ride. Just one?!" Harry put on his most pitiful voice of petition.
"NO! Absolutely NOT!" John responded. "I don't mind taking you there sometime, but this is not the time. Seriously, Harry, we need to get these things done, then get back to Papa, OK? Work with me here." John continued.
"O... K..." Harry answered, trying to sound and look graciously disappointed. "Where to next, then?"
"Next? More fish! Ready for fish n' chips, Little Brother?" John laughed.
"Huh?" Harry looked up, confused, as John reached out to grasp one arm, as Oxsana grasped the other.
"POOF!" They had blinked together to a dark wharf with lots of activity going on. Clearly fishing boats were arriving, and leaving, and great tubs and rolling carts of ice and live fish were being bought from the boats, and wheeled up to trucks and shops nearby.
"Where are we?" Harry asked, blinking to adjust his vision to the deep night surrounded by brilliant area lights.
"This is the South Side Seaport, the Brooklyn Battery, southern end of Manhatten Island, New York City, New York. It's extremely early morning here, and right there..." John said, pointing to a brilliantly lit market behind them... "is Fulton's Fish Market. It's not QUITE open 24 hours a day, but pretty close. They're open now, for other retailers and restaurants to come select their seafood for today. These fishmongers are here this early to buy their product straight off the fishing fleet that's just come in. Want to watch a minute or two? We can, as long as we don't get in the way," he laughed. "These guys will run right over us. This isn't exactly 'tourist time'."
Harry was happy to find a comparatively quiet spot off to the side so they didn't obstruct the fast-moving deliveries. Manhatten's brilliant night time skyline, the red white and blue of the Empire State Building lights, the neons and multicolored office building lights, and the high priced high rise condos visible in the financial district just north of them, made the whole scene look like a Christmas display gone mad.
"This is the East River, Harry," John said, directing his attention northwest from where they were standing. "That's the Brooklyn Bridge there," then turning to their right, he said, "you can see Governor's Island out there in the water, and beyond that, that green statue is of course the Statue of Liberty in the distance."
"And those lights over there, beyond the Statue?" Harry asked.
"That's New Jersey. We don't need to go 'dere," John put on his best New Jersey accent. "Let's head inside so I can get our lobsters, and we can move on."
Harry and Oxsana followed John as he found a quiet entrance to the fish market, and motioned them to follow as he headed to a big tank of salt water with the live lobsters slowly walking around in it, keeping their balance against a strong current the aeration pump kept flowing through the tank.
"Holy cow!" Harry whistled. "Look at the claws on those things! Are they just... you know..." he lowered his voice... "just 'muggle' lobsters? They're not magical or anything are they?"
"No, Harry," John chuckled. "These are indeed fine specimens, but entirely natural Maine Lobsters, noted for the size and succulence of their claw meat. If I were more interested in lobster tails, we'd be heading further south to acquire our groceries." With this, John conducted some business with the fish monger, selecting the 10 lobsters he wanted, having their claws banded for safety, and seeing them safely stored in a cooler he bought for the purpose. They thanked the helpers, and rolled away with their cart and extendable handle, turning some corners to be entirely private. John then called Misha to him, instructing that their goods be taken home and stored properly until their return.
"What's next on the agenda?" Harry asked.
"Egypt for just a few minutes. There's a marketplace on the outskirts of Cairo where the most scrumptious dates ever are for sale." John answered. Again, he and Oxsana took Harry's arms, and they blinked to their destination instantly.
"I didn't know you could side-along blink," Harry said in some wonder. "How does that work?"
"Pretty much the same way as an individual blink, but you have to envision all of you going there. When you construct the imago, instead of just seeing yourself in the new place, you see both of you in the new place, and when you 'push', you push hard enough to envelop the other person. That probably doesn't make sense, does it?"
"No... I think it does. I think I get it. May I try it with one of you?" Harry asked, making John just shake his head at the way Harry interacted with magic and soaked it up.
"Sure, come over here..." John indicated, walking them to an alleyway where no one could observe them. "Here. Oxsana wait here a minute. Harry, take my arm and try to blink you and me over there down the way, where you see that red awning."
"OK," Harry complied, taking a moment to get a clear view of where he wanted to go, then closing his eyes and envisioning himself with John right beside him, materializing near that awning, then doing that "gut-push" thing he did with he blinked. Sure enough, when he opened his eyes, there they were together right where he'd intended. "Wicked!" he breathed, in delight. "Now let me take us back!" and so he did, as they arrived perfectly, right next to Oxsana. "Thanks, John! That's awesome!"
"Fine, now let's go get our dates, eh?" John led the way through the morning market, filled with hawksters bidding them come buy every variety of fruit, vegetable, smoked meat, sausage, basket, scarf, or jewelry imaginable. Language charm applied again let them understand everything said, though Harry was hard pressed to understand John as he dickered at an extremely fast pace, over the price of his dates.
John finally seemed satisfied, as he wished the seller a blessed day, and victoriously marched off with his two kilo bag of fine Egyptian dates. Once they'd rounded another corner out of sight, John reduced the bag and stuck it in his pocket.
"Right, it's almost 11 o'clock at home now. We'll just have enough time to head off to Hawaii. It's still 'last night' there, but I know some 24 hour Farmer's Markets where we can find exactly what I'm looking for. Here we go! -"
But Harry broke contact and interrupted. "Hold on a second? May I try? I've never blinked that far before. May I see if you show me the exact place you want to land, let me see if I can blink the two of you there? If I mess up, you guys and fix it or keep me safe or whatever. Pleeease? I'd really like to try..."
John and Oxsana looked at one another thinking about it, then traded shrugs. "Sure, I don't see why not. If you have any problem with it, or feel pressure or a headache..." Oxsana said...
"I know. I'll quit right away and let you handle it. OK? So just show me where we want to go..." Harry asked.
John gave him a very clear picture of their destination, imagining a trip on the globe starting from where they were, zooming down to the exact spot on the Island of Maui where the Farmer's Market would be. Harry kept his eyes closed until he felt confident of his spell, then breathed a bit to store up the power, then... launched...
"POOF!" There they were, precisely where they were supposed to be. Even Oxsana was a bit taken aback by Harry's casual use of such power. John decided not to make a big deal of it, just discretely shaking his head when Oxsana was going to give voice to her amazement.
"Well done, Harry. Very good job," John said, in that normal tone of approbation a teacher uses for a well completed assignment. "Now... let's see about those mangoes, eh?" So saying, John wandered happily among the vendors, selecting mangoes, some plums, a pineapple or two, and even a couple coconuts. "They'll look nice in fruit basket..." he said, as Oxsana and Harry giggled together at his choice. "Right then," he said, again shrinking the bags of his booty for pocket storage. "We've still got 15 minutes to spare, so... Harry? Want to see how the other 'snow-free' half lives? Grab on!"
Next thing you know, the three of them were standing outside the Royal Hawaiian Hotel at Waikiki Beach, Honolulu, Hawaii. John courteously helped Oxsana off with her winter coat, as he and Harry stripped down a bit as well, and they strolled to the beachside outdoor cafe of the hotel - open 24 hours - to sit for some cool refreshments as they watched the surf roll in off the unbelievably blue water. White sands, oiled suntanned bodies walking along the water even at this hour, beautiful foaming surf, brilliant moonshine reflecting in a silver ray off the seldom so placid Pacific... such a marked contrast to the home to which they would return in mere minutes.
"Oh my goodness," Harry said. "If it were daytime, I would so want to pull off all my clothes and jump in that water!"
"I advise against it, Little Brother. The glare from your dead white skin would probably blind half this beach. You can always spot a newly arrived Brit whether here, or the Caribbean, or Miami Beach. They arrive on day one looking albino... and by the end of day two look like a boiled lobster. Never fails. It's like they try to get a year's worth of suntan in a single day, and just burn themselves half to death. Keep your shirt on! Literally! And that's an order!" and they all laughed.
It was nice for a while to just sit and relax. They knew they were in good time not to keep Papa waiting, and the trip had been terrific from every point of view. The sound of the surf, the breeze, people laughing and children playing, and the subdued Hawaiian music coming from the cafe almost lulled Harry into a trance of sheer relaxation. It made him think of a question he'd been meaning to ask them.
"I'd like to know something..." he began.
"No unaskable questions, Squirt. What's up?" John answered.
"Why do people call Papa 'Your Grace' and that? Horsemaster Zankiw kissed Papa's ring. When I got in that fight with Stashu, and addressed Papa as such, he about fainted. Who... or rather WHAT... is Papa?"
"Ah, that..." John looked down a bit uncomfortably. "Well, um... yeah. Papa is sort of like... sort of like the Mayor. He's the 'guy in charge' for a large estate. He governs a large part of, particularly, the Magical Community in our area. There are muggles who choose to live in our community and by our rules, so he takes care of them, too."
"Ah... so... Papa's elected? Every few years?" Harry followed up.
"Well, no. Not exactly."
"Oh. Well, was he appointed by the Ukrainian government, or something?"
"No, not exactly."
"Well, how big is the Estate, anyway? Is it like the Chalet and the Village, or the county surrounding them?"
Oxsana just shook her head chuckling, as she wondered how John was going to extricate himself from this mire.
John poked her, complaining, "You could try to HELP with this a bit, you know..."
"Oh, no, dear. I wouldn't dream of interfering between brothers," as she took another sip of her tropical drink. "You just... carry on. You're doing fine."
"Brat..." John said, under his breath. "Um, Harry, the Estate is considerable in area. It's part of our region's division of responsibility for the care and administration of Magical affairs. And I guess you can say this is by 'appointment'. It's just that it wasn't just Papa who was appointed, but our family. And it happened a very VERY long time ago. So the responsibility is hereditary. That's not too complicated, is it? So there! Oxsana!" and he barely refrained from sticking out his tongue at her.
Harry missed most of this jocular byplay, as he pondered the words. "Wait a minute, John. Hereditary? So... Papa's some sort of aristocrat or something?"
"Um, yeah. Kinda..." John nodded.
"So that means..." and Harry's head swam.
"Listen, Squirt. This is really a conversation you need to have with Papa. I don't want to get you all confused, or upset or anything. Papa handles a lot of 'government' stuff for where we live, that's all. And he does most of that work in the holidays, because he prefers teaching. He has managers and administrators that keep everything running pretty smoothly, and he only gets involved when something needs his personal decision, or when he checks on things, like he's doing in this trip. Aside from all that, let him answer your questions, OK?"
"OK, John. I'll do that. You've got me curious now."
At this, John rolled his eyes, checked their beverage glasses to see they were all about finished, left some American money on the table to cover their tab, and said, "Let's head home, then."
Together, they found a quiet deserted corner of the hotel lobby, and dropped hands, agreeing to blink to the Chalet's kitchen each on their own. Harry materialized right where he should, at the same time they did.
"Excellent!" John approved. "Papa! We're HOME!" he called out, pulling out his packages of fruit, as Misha appeared to relieve him of his burdens. "Thank you, Misha!"
"You're welcome, Master," the elf smiled, as John gave him a gentle scratch behind the ear.
Pavel walked in to meet and greet them, accepting Oxsana's hug and double kiss, and a hug around the waist from Harry, as he laughed, saying, "Well, I take it your hunt was successful and you've all had an excellent morning!"
"Indeed, Papa. And nobody even got lost in New York City, this time," John shared, as he took his and Oxsana's cloaks, hanging them up in the Mud Room.
"It was SUPER, Papa! They were throwing fish, and we had drinks on Waikiki Beach, and we could see the Eiffel Tower, and the Empire State Building, and camels... and everything!" Harry gushed.
"Not all that from Waikiki Beach, I hope," Pavel laughed at how excited Harry was. It warmed his heart so much to see this erstwhile orphan now so happy with his family.
"Of COURSE not! Don't be silly, Papa!" Harry knew he was being teased.
"Well, I don't know whether we should go out again, or if you need a nap! Sounds like you'd be played out by now." Pavel mused.
"NAP? You're just kidding me, right? I'm WAY to old for a nap!" Harry protested, unsure whether Pavel was serious or not.
Pavel had decided when they came for this holiday, to withdraw the constant monitoring he normally maintained over Harry when they were at Hogwarts. He wanted Harry to have the freedom of his own privacy, especially while they were here where Pavel considered the environment "safe and protected". That's why the scrap with Stashu went unnoticed until the sound of it had reached them. Unless Harry consciously reached out for him, he was determined not to check up on the boy. Between servants, John and Oxsana, and the care of Dobby over him, Pavel considered he was well monitored until they returned to school. He had shared that this was his plan as they prepared to come, so...
"Harry, I'd like your permission to check on you for a moment, to make sure you're not too tired for what I plan this afternoon. All right?"
"All right, Papa," Harry sighed indulgently, daring just the slightest of eyerolls, feeling like he was being babied.
Pavel extended his net over Harry, finding that he was indeed a bit more tired than would otherwise be appropriate for Noon. But he was equally "jazzed" and excited at all the new activity. So trying to make him stay home to rest would be a complete waste of effort.
"All right then. You seem fine. I've only one more question. How is your backside? I plan on considerable broom riding, and if that's uncomfortable, I need to know," as Pavel planted a playful but firm swat on the seat of Harry's pants, looking for any sign of flinching or wincing.
"I'm FINE, Papa. Although..." Harry's face took on a bit of a calculating expression, "if I said I still hurt, would it mean you might strike a little lighter next time?" Harry looked hopeful.
"Not a chance, my son. It would only mean you might need some grounding the next day to recover."
"Pfft. Of course, you would say that. No, sir. I'm fine. Dobby checked on that first thing this morning," he laughed.
"Of course he did," Pavel nodded. "All right then, if no one has further need of us... let me get my outer robe and cloak on, and we'll get our brooms. Ivan? Oxsana? Anything I can do?"
"No, sir. We'll be fine here. You just go ahead and have fun." John added through mind-speak, "Harry's been asking some uncomfortable - to me - questions regarding your rank and role here. It may be time to 'fess up, maybe have lunch at the Manor."
"Hmmm. You may be right. I know I've been putting it off, but it won't be possible for very much longer. All right. I'll try to talk to him about all that today. What does he know so far?"
John showed him the memory of that part of their discussion as the old man donned his outerwear. Pavel understood.
"Come along then, Harry. Are you feeling very hungry, or shall we fly and tour a bit first?" Pavel asked, as he and Harry took their brooms from a rack in the Mud Room and headed outside.
"I'm not too hungry yet. We didn't have breakfast that early, and I just had a sweet fruit drink with John and Oxsana a few minutes ago."
"All righty then," Pavel answered, putting his hands on each of Harry's shoulders, casting a charm that would keep him warm in the face and ears, and on the inside of his clothes, even as the outside remained cold so they didn't melt everything they touched. "Let's start with this property and the local village."
Papa kicked off as Harry followed, and they turned lazy spirals up from the Chalet.
From up here, Harry could see that there were many outbuildings to the complex. The Gasthausen had another bungalow hedged off from the others, that Pavel said could house elves to care for the Gasthausen when they were occupied. As they turned towards the Bunk House and Woodshed, they saw a number of roads, walkways, and equipment sheds, along with greenhouses and nurseries for a variety of plants, both magical and mundane.
Further on, it was clear that the Mews was a very large complex of five different buildings. The barn he had been inside was only the front one. There were two other buildings just as large and then two very large, very tall barn like structures to the back of the wide center space that divided them all. Harry asked what these other buildings were, and Pavel just smiled saying it was a surprise for now.
Together they rode leisurely towards the village, bathed in snow and twinkling lights, looking for all the world like a Currier and Ives Christmas card. Rather than heading right for the Pub however, Pavel led them off circling the outskirts of the village, surrounded by farms and ranches, so that Harry could sense this was a good sized village with several shops, businesses, services, a municipal building, a couple churches and chapels, and even a school within. Clearly many of the structures were the houses of townsfolk, often attached to a shop or store.
Near the center of town, torches and lanterns decorated the fence and garden of the Whistling Teapot Cafe. Pavel pointed down to the eatery and asked, "Would you rather have lunch there, or should we fly to a different home of ours, the Manor, and luncheon there instead?"
This offer piqued Harry's curiosity and he wasn't really that hungry yet, so he asked, "Is it far, Papa?"
"Pretty far, yes, but if you like, we can fly as fast as we can," which brought a huge smile to Harry's face. "It's not very often you have the space to do that. What say?"
"That sounds terrific, Papa. Let's go for it." Harry answered.
"OK. It will take us about half an hour to get there. We will fly about 30 miles south. You will see a large old-looking Castle. Muggles see a rather well-to-do house, unless they are of the Magic Community here, where they'll see the Castle as well. We call it, simply the Manor. There will be a number of outbuildings. You will see banners flying from the tallest tower. My banner will be raised as we speak, and it will be lit so that you can see it from afar. That will help you navigate once we are close enough. Feel free, Harry, if you can 'blink forward' in your flight to accelerate even beyond your straight flying, go ahead. I shall follow. If you stray off course, I will tell you. Now... make your 'best available time' by whatever means, to the Manor."
"Papa, can you put an extremely clear picture of what I will see when we are close, in my head for me? I want to see if I can blink to it."
"I can and I shall, but be cautious. If you succeed in blinking while in broom flight, you may not be in flight when you arrive. So hold the broom securely and be ready to resume flight, all right?"
"I understand. OK, show me what I should see, please."
Pavel did so, imagining them flying out from a cloud about two miles from the Manor, at an altitude of 3000 feet or so. They were cruising at that altitude, under a mild disillusionment charm that made them effectively invisible from more than 40 feet away, just so they could conveniently see one another, and birds or wildlife up close could see them, without disturbing any observers from the ground.
"OK, Papa. I'm going to try blinking there now, so here goes."
"All right, son. I've got your back."
To Pavel's astonishment, Harry blinked perfectly forward the 30 miles in smooth flight without so much as a stutter. Harry stopped to hover in mid air until Pavel caught up, looking at the beautiful white stone architecture that resembled nothing so much as the Cindarella Castle Harry had seen in brochures of Disney Theme Parks. Crenelated towers, flying buttresses, pennants, even an honest to goodness drawbridge and moat.
"Seriously, Papa? Drawbridge and moat? Really? Isn't that just a little bit cliche?" Harry was holding to let Pavel lead, in case there were wards or barriers that had to be cleared for them to enter.
"One, the drawbridge and moat were constructed before the architecture WAS cliche, and two, cliches of defensive fortifications are normally there for very practical reasons! Besides, we keep trout in the moat!" Pavel laughed. "Follow me," he ordered, as Harry parked his broom immediately behind Pavel's and Pavel drew his wand. He aimed a beam of light ahead of him, as he descended towards the center courtyard inside the drawbridge. Inside those ramparts a huge and lovely lawn, landscaped with hedges, trees and low walls defining fountains, with a great paved roadway and circular pavement approached the entrance doors.
As they approached the ground, Harry actually heard trumpets play a fanfare from some balcony above the courtyard. This was accompanied by banners being raised above two of the towers, and an orderly file of footmen and retainers march from the entrance doors to line up along the steps of the entranceway. A tall gray haired man in formal livery followed the retainers, walking down the steps to greet them.
Harry followed Pavel, each holding their brooms, as they slowly mounted the meticulously clean stone stairway, as the older man approached them smiling broadly.
"Welcome home, Your Grace!" he said, with a true tone of delight.
"Thank you, Mikhael! I apologize for so little notice. I hope I've not disrupted your routine unduly," Pavel smiled in return, extending his hand to shake.
"Pah, Your Grace. We endeavor always to be ready to welcome you. It's a poor Steward indeed, who does not rejoice in the visit of his leige lord. 'Tis your house, after all," he said, briefly shaking Pavel's hand, but finishing with a bow and short kiss of his signet ring.
"Mikhael, may I present my apprentice, son and heir, of whom I have written earlier... this is Harry Potter," as Pavel stepped aside to place one hand on Harry's shoulder as he was introduced. "Harry, this is our Steward of the Manor, Mikhael Marczuk. Please heed any advice or instructions he gives you, he is responsible for the care and management of this house on a day to day basis, and he is MOST organized. You and I will make every effort not to make that any more difficult than it already is, yes?"
"Yes, Papa, by all means. Very pleased to meet you, sir. The Manor looks gorgeous. You must work very hard keeping it so," Harry complimented, shaking the old man's hand and rendering a short bow.
"Thank you, young master," the Steward said, flashing a knowing and appreciative smile at Pavel. "I shall extend your compliments to the staff. It is they who do all the work, and I know they will be pleased at your observation. Please enter, gentlemen."
"Just one more moment, Master Steward, if you don't mind..." Pavel said, as he walked briskly to the far end of the staff line, and then strolled back again, inspecting the liveried servants with a practiced eye. He stood before them for a moment and said, "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for turning out to greet us even in such cold, and keeping your appearance and courtesy at a standard that does you and this noble house proud." With this he clicked his heels together and gave a short bow that Harry had learned to interpret as a "salute", before turning on his heel to accompany Harry into the entrance.
Behind them, trooped the staff, now scattering to their various duties, as the Steward helped them off with their cloaks, handing those and their brooms off to two footmen who stood discretely by, waiting. As Harry turned around to look through the foyer to the main part of the house before him, he was dumbstruck by the gilt, crystal chandeliers, brass sconces, suits of armor and arms on the wall, marble polished floors and columns, with rich supporting timbers or oaken columns along the outer walls. The obligatory roaring open hearth fireplace blazed merrily in this "First Sitting Room" or whatever it was, furnished rather like a parlor or sitting room, as Pavel led the way through to a warmer, carpeted drawing room. Harry felt like he'd fallen out of the world into some fairy tale.
As they sat down in comfortable chairs and Papa ordered some tea and cocoa, while luncheon was being prepared for them, Harry said, "OK, let me get this straight, Papa. THIS... all of THIS... is our... HOUSE? This is ONE of your residences?"
Pavel watched as Steward Marczuk poured tea for Papa and hot chocolate for him. "Yes, son, that's correct. This is our primary residence, our hereditary seat."
"OK... Papa?"
"Yes, son?"
"I think it's time we talk. Just exactly who... or what... ARE YOU?"
"Ah, that. Yes. I agree, it's time we talk..."
A/N I'd love it if you take a moment to review. I appreciate your enjoyment of these stories so much! Feel free to comment, question, critique, or offer ideas. Grace to you, Gentle Reader. Thank you for being here - Mort