Chapter Twenty-Eight: Our Safe Places
They landed in darkness.
Jon was first up, still cradling the baby, which was giggling happily as though that had all been so much fun. Lucy helped Rissa up and they dusted off, looking around. They daren't use any magic in case they weren't at school.
"Hang on." Conny felt the wall. There was a door, with an old-fashioned brass knob, like the one in the picture. "This is the door. We're back."
"Back where, though?" Gil mused. "Ehya! Oh, wait. It's just a coat."
"A coat?"
"Yep. It's dim, but there are others. Hey, they're all multicoloured… oh, wait. Conny, they're aprons. Aprons covered in paint."
"Caradoc's an artist, it makes sense."
Lucy cleared her throat. "Open the door?"
"There could be anyth-"
Lucy twisted the knob and light flooded into the tiny storage cupboard. They blinked and stepped out onto familiar stone floors.
"Well, call me a horklump." Lucy chuckled, wearily eyeing the numerous easels, half-finished canvases and dirty jam-jars full of paintbrushes. "It's the art room."
"No way." Gil croaked. "On the fifth floor?"
"Yep. Where the art club meets." Said Lucy, kicking a scrunched-up bit of parchment across the floor. "We're in Hogwarts. Caradoc's safe place is Hogwarts."
The sound of pointy boots on the floor startled them all as Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat. They hadn't noticed him, and everyone but Jon, who was wary of the baby, jumped out of their skins. They could have sworn he hadn't been there a few seconds ago.
"Indeed it was." Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard as he examined a canvas upon which was painted a rather poor rabbit. "Mister Dearborn devoted his life to this room."
They all stood in silence, awkward, waiting for Dumbledore to expel them.
"How is the boy, Monsieur Lucwitt?"
Jon blushed scarlet, clutching the baby. "Emm…. 'E's… okay, I think."
"Ah, excellent. I believe that there's a man who'd very much like to take care of him, seeing as how he's just been released from prison."
"You mean, Maenalus?" Conny blurted.
"Yes, dear Maenalus. I have only met the man once, and when he was a young boy at that… It was not a nice meeting. Some wizards treat a squib worse than a muggle."
"The Malfoys." Rissa said sharply, unsure if Dumbledore was insulting her family or not.
"It is a shame that the good eggs of that family will never be known. Dear Maenalus, who risked his life to help his dear sister. Althea was a beautiful and talented young woman, who disagreed with her upbringing. A little too loudly for her family, I fear."
"If you mean she's had to run away forever, then yes." Lucy snapped, her arms crossed. "You knew? And you didn't do anything?"
Dumbledore held up his hands. "It was not my place. Was it not, Matilda?"
Tilda stiffened, not catching anyone's eye. Dumbledore smiled ever so slightly and raised his eyebrows, as if conveying a silent message only Tilda understood.
"But, sir," Conny began, "I don't understand. What will happen to Caradoc and Althea now?"
"They will be safe, Miss DeHayersae."
"And what about the people in that painting? Those who died? They were real!"
Dumbledore's face changed, taking on a serious cast for a moment, as though lost in thought. He lanced his long, gnarled fingers together and took a few paces, as if moving to admire a triptych of the great hall in the autumn by the far wall.
"What is real and what we believe to be real are not the same things, Miss DeHayersae."
"The baby's real. And he came from that world. We could have taken people out of it! We could… we could have made people from nothing!"
"The child belongs to our world. You must realize that. Men like Llewellyn would simply… fade. Like ghosts."
Conny froze and stared. How… how could he know? She was about to ask when Dumbledore checked a pocketwatch and gasped loudly, causing them all to jump again.
"It's already that late! My, I must change into my evening robes. I would advise you all to do the same, lest you miss the lovely beef casserole I'm told is being served."
"What? What feast?" Gil asked before realizing. "The end of term feast? We've been away that long?"
"Time is a tricky thing, Mister Lockhart." Dumbledore said sagely. "Now, might I have the child? I'd like him to meet his Uncle Maenalus as soon as possible."
Jon dubiously handed the bundle of blankets over to Dumbledore, who chuckled again. "It seems I've been doing a great deal of baby brokering of late. Perhaps I was a stork in a past life?"
Again, silence pervaded, nobody quite understanding what he meant. Dumbledore was about to leave when Conny stopped him.
"A name." Conny said, "He needs a name."
Startled, Dumbledore inclined his head. "That he does. Do you know what his parents named him?"
"No." They all shook their heads.
"Then, what is his name?"
Conny's mind flashed to the paint-covered aprons. "Joseph."
"Joseph?" Dumbledore followed her gaze to the cupboard, and smiled, clapping his hands together as if it was the most genial idea. "Ah! He certainly looks like a Joseph to me. What a good choice."
The baby- Joseph – gurgled happily and grabbed a handful of Dumbledore's magnificent beard, yanking on it hard. For a second, the headmaster's face contorted in pain, but he recovered quickly.
"Have a good summer, all of you." He said, "And I would perhaps avoid galleries for a while."
Conny and Jon looked at each other guiltily. "Yes, Professor."
With that, and one last shriek of delight from Joseph, who'd just discovered the decoration on Dumbledore's robes, he was gone.
-0-
Conny felt very odd in her uniform, which felt very comfortable compared to what she'd been wearing. Lucy had helpfully swabbed her wounds up, but one was going to need some medical attention at some point. Her ankle was broken, but not too badly. Goodness knows how she'd managed on it, but Professor Atremidus, who they visited on their way down to the feast, fixed it up in a jiffy. She knew better than to ask questions, and threw in a wound-closing charm for free, but gave Conny and very charring look.
"Lucelia, could you go up to your tower and get Conyeri another shirt? I'm afraid there's blood on the collar of this one." She asked.
"Sure. Be right back." Lucy popped out. Conny was left with Atremidus, who looked severe.
"Conyeri," She began, "I need you to do something for me."
"What?"
"I have seen many patients in my time, and worked with many healers. One in particular came to me… perhaps five years ago. He wondered if I could prescribe something to calm his daughter down, for she was wild and destructive."
"Rissa Mothley." Conny breathed, wincing as her ribs protested at her leaning forwards. "You prescribed the draught of peace to Rissa Mothley."
"If I'd had known what Hr. Mothley actually wanted to do… I would have never told him to use it. But Conyeri, the point is this. Lucelia, through what wiles she possesses, has taken Clarissa off the draught of peace."
"I know."
"I know that you know. Which is why I need you to help me. Now, Clarissa may seem… free, uninhibited, more fun, more relaxed, better company. But the more Lucelia is allowed to influence her, the more they are together… I fear they will return to their childhood state."
"What was so bad about that? I know they were wild and all, but they had fun."
Atremidus shook her head. "Lucelia and Clarissa… they did something terrible. They were young, it was never mentioned again, but… if Clarissa is allowed to stay off the draught of peace, she will do something similar."
"What was it?"
"It's not my business to say. But I want you to please look out for Clarissa. It has been a long time since she's had so many emotions. If… If it comes to it, Conyeri, and you will know when it does, I want you to administer this."
Atremidus handed her a vial, stoppered with a beautifully tooled copper dragon. Conny immediately knew by its design that it was the sister of Rissa's silver snake vial, which she kept her draught of peace in. "What's in it?"
"Something to help."
Conny eyes Atremidus carefully, realizing that she was deliberately being vague. She shrugged and carefully placed the vial in one of the pockets inside her robes. "Okay."
"Thank you." Atremidus relaxed back in her chair. A few seconds later, Lucy appeared, not carrying a shirt.
"You can just vanish the blood. Conny doesn't need a new shirt- you wanted me out of the way. Why?"
Conny pinked, thinking Atremidus would freeze up, but needn't have worried. "Conyeri wanted to talk to me about something personal."
"Personal? What's so personal you can't talk to me about it?" She demanded.
"Erm…" Conny flailed. "Um…"
"Periods, Lucelia." Atremidus deadpanned. "And I suppose if you must know, you must. Conyeri was trying to solicit an anti-menstruation charm for you from me."
Lucy shut up, and went bright pink. "B- but… I haven't started yet."
"You will soon. Now, where did I put it… ah, here." Atremidus rummaged in one of her drawers and pulled out a small bracelet. It was plain, though made of silver, and would, Conny suspected, tastefully go with anything.
Lucy accepted it. "Erm… thanks."
"It isn't a problem. When you start, Conyeri will explain everything to you."
"I'm not a child! I know… how these things work. Ish."
"Ish. Exactly." Atremidus lazily vanished the spots of blood on Conny's collar. "Now, get to the feast. I hear the stroganoff is to die for."
"Thanks, Professor." They stood up. "Good luck in proper retirement."
Atremidus chuckled. "I'll need it. Good luck to you too, girls."
They left the old Professor's office and walked in silence down to the Great Hall, where the feast was just beginning. When they walked in, heads turned to look at them, and whispers broke out all over the hall. They sat down next to Jon, across from Luke and Ally, who were teary-eyed.
"Hullo, you two." Luke greeted them. "I'm glad you're okay for the feast. Summer Dragon pox is so rare… and to spread to so many people in your year, too."
"How're you feeling?" Ally asked maternally.
"Er- okay, thanks. Madam Pomfrey healed us great."
"I heard it was Atremidus' help that got you recovered so quickly. She's such a legend." Luke said.
"How come you two are all crying and stuff?" Lucy asked, looking around impatiently for food, having cooked pigeons for a massive feast she'd not got to eat.
"Because… it's all over." Ally sniffed. "Hogwarts, it's done."
"Done?" Conny realized that Luke and Ally were about to end their seventh years. "Oh, wow. Where do you want to go?"
"Well, if I get the grades- got to wait until August for the N.E.W.T. results and all- the Wizarding University of London offered me a place to read Defensive Magic." Luke said proudly, puffing up his chest. Conny couldn't remember whether it was Cousin Lottie or Cousin Florie who went to the WUL.
"What about you, Ally?" Lucy asked.
"I've got an internship at the Department of Magical Transport." She beamed. "I beat off half the world for it, it seems. It's an amazing thing to get just out of school."
It seemed like everyone was set for their future. Conny felt a twinge. "I'll miss you, Luke, Ally."
"Aw." The burst out into tears again, drawing stares, though many other seventh-years were also a bit weepy. "We'll miss you too. Good luck, okay? Please, be good."
"We will." Lucy rolled her eyes, and Dumbledore appeared suddenly from somewhere, striding towards the lectern. "Shh."
He cleared his throat, and the whole hall fell silent at once.
"Hogwarts. For seven years, you study here, live here, and love here. It is a journey that, unfortunately, must come to an end. Today, we say goodbye to our seventh-years, and wish them luck in their chosen careers."
Luke started sobbing comically and blew his nose on Ally's robes. "I don't wanna leave!" he hiccoughed.
"However, their efforts, and the efforts of every one of you in the race for the House Cup, have not gone unnoticed. Professor McGonagall has counted up the points- ah, thank you, Minerva – and the totals stand thus."
Lucy crossed her fingers. "We saved a baby and killed a giant bird-snake. That's got to be worth points, right?"
"Shut up."
"In last place, with three hundred and seven points, is Hufflepuff House."
This was not unexpected, and the Hufflepuffs took it in their stride. Corfax did look a bit glum, though.
"In third place, with three hundred and forty-four points, is Gryffindor House."
The table in red, though disappointed, still whooped and cheered, congratulating themselves on a good try. Conny thought that maybe because Ravenclaw had won the quidditch, that might have cancelled out all the points she'd lost by attacking Ralphus and that Lucy had lost for pissing off Snape…
"In second place, with three hundred and ninety two points, is Slytherin House. Which means, with an impressive four hundred points dead, the winners of the House Cup are Ravenclaw House!"
Luke actually jumped forty feet in the air and roared.
"YEEEEESSSSSSS!" He fist-pumped, shouting and screaming. "Go Ravenclaw!"
Conny and Lucy high-fived, pleased with themselves. Anyone who'd ever been pissed off at them for losing points forgot to care, and even Polly and Anna were dancing in their seats and spared a smile for Conny.
"We won, Luce." She grinned. "We won."
"It's not that important, is it?"
"It is. It's the cup."
"But… it doesn't matter in the long run. What we did, that's what matters." Lucy insisted.
"Maybe. But the cup is really shiny." She joked and Luke went up to receive the cup from Dumbledore. Professor Flitwick's fez fell off, he was clapping so fervently.
Then the food appeared.
Lucy forgot everything and discovered that the beef stroganoff was, as advertised, excellent.
-0-
The carriage was stuffed, and sweltering in the summer heat. Bach was curled up in the luggage rack, snoozing. Conny and Lucy still felt full from the feast the night before, and were surrounded by those who'd gone to Wales with them. The mood was strange, happy, but sort of unsure and very tired.
Gil had his book of Arthurian Legends out.
"Seriously, Gil, put that away. I'm going to kill the next person who mentions any of what happened." Lucy groaned, stretching, having been intermittently napping on Conny and Jon's laps.
"Hang on." He flipped a few pages, his brow furrowed. "Go away, I'm reading."
"Tch." Lucy sighed. "Hey, how were everyones' grades?"
A relieved-looking Professor Flitwick had given them their internal exam grade sheet hastily that morning.
"You don't want to know mine." Conny said quietly, but Lucy grabbed her piece of paper anyway.
"What the hell! All Os. Every single subject."
"Only because I'm not taking Arithmancy any more." Conny huffed, snatching it back. "I bet yours were good, too."
"Tch, mine were fine. Jon?"
"Comme si, comme sa." He shrugged, flashing a mixture of Os, Es, and a couple of As. "'Ave you see ze paper attached to ze back?"
"Eh? Where."
"Zere."
Conny flipped her results over and saw a form. "Provisional choices for third-year electives. I was wondering when we'd get these."
"What're you gunna take, Con?" Lucy asked, looking at the list.
"Definitely not Care of Magical Creatures. Not if I have to even read the word 'Occamy' again." She shuddered. "I think I'll keep Arithmancy, I don't mind it. And I'm definitely taking Study of Ancient Runes. You?"
"I was thinking of Care of Magical Creatures." Lucy said, affronted. "Come on! It's a way different subject to the usual classroomy stuff. And you get to do cool stuff, like feed nifflers and set fire to salamanders. Plus Kettleburn's a nutter. It'll be a blast! Come do it with me? Please?"
"I don't know… I won't have any free periods if I do another one."
"But you have to an extra elective anyway, since you don't do Astronomy."
"I don't do Astronomy so I can do extra Transfig, Luce." Conny explained. "I'll tell you what. I'll drop Arithmancy and do Care of Magical Creatures with you."
"Yes!" Lucy gave her a thumbs-up. "But I'm not doing runes."
"You don't have much choice, then. It's either Divination with Trelawney, who's a weirdo, or Muggle Studies with Quirrell." Conny pointed out. "At least in runes, you'll be able to copy my work."
"Ah! Didn't think of it that way. Okay, so we'll both do Creatures and Runes. You up for that, Jon?" Lucy asked.
"I'll do Care of Magical Creatures," he agreed, "But I want to do Divination."
"You serious?"
"Oui."
"Seriously serious? It's the next two years of your life you'll spend in that god-awful tower. You can smell the incense from the Commons." Lucy shuddered.
"I don't want to do Runes. I already 'ave trouble with English, I don't need to 'ave another language to learn."
"It's only script!"
"Same thing. Non, I 'ave made my choice."
"Tch." Lucy huffed. "What about you Tilda? Divination, I'm guessing?"
"How well you know me." Tilda raised an eyebrow. "And Runes, I think."
"Riss?"
"I am… not sure?" She shrugged, managing to make it look elegant. "I would have to consult my brother, and our parents."
"Really? Really, Riss? Just pick on a whim. C'mon." Lucy tried, giving her a wink. Rissa hesitated, and then decided that perhaps Lucy was right.
"Okay. Well, I will do… Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, like Jonmarc."
Jon smiled at her, and Rissa smiled back. Conny didn't miss that.
"Gil?"
"Shut up, I'm reading."
They all sighed.
The group chatted about the holidays, what they were going to do, what art galleries they were not going to visit, and the morning turned into the afternoon as London got closer. Soon, the train was full of seventh-years playing their last pranks, one of which involved a large can of eternally expanding foam thrown into their compartment. While this was amusing for a few minutes, they spent a very wet half-hour scrambling around in the foam looking for the can so they could throw it out of the window. Luke came in, still crying like a baby, to apologise and helpfully scoured the carriage free of foam.
"We're slowing down." Tilda observed, and they had indeed nearly reached platform nine and three quarters. Conn grabbed a yowling Bach from the luggage rack and grabbed her elective form and exam marks, ready to disembark. As soon as the huge, crimson Hogwarts Express had ground to a halt, she squeezed into the hallway waiting for the doors to open. On the platform, the red-uniformed porters were already emptying the luggage compartment, and Conny spotted her trunk in the middle of a neat pile and with Jon's help extricated it.
She was about to search out her dad, who would be waiting for her on the platform, when a familiar voice called her name.
"Conny!" Az Spooks came jogging over, his trunk skidding behind him. "Conny, I tried to visit you, I really did, but Madam Pomfrey said the dragon pox was really contagious… are you okay?"
"Yes, Az." She smiled, feeling guilty for the lie. "I'm okay. It must have been the project I was working on with the others- I don't know how we got it, but we all did. It's just lucky that Professor Atremidus is such a good healer, else I'd have those horrible pockmark scars."
"You don't." He assured her, reaching for her hand. Conny took it shyly, feeling eyes around the platform on them. "You're not contagious any more, right?"
"Not at all." She grinned. Az's flyaway blonde hair tickled her forehead, he was so close, and she felt butterflies dancing in her stomach.
"I'll owl you. You've got to come visit in the holiday."
"I don't know how my parents would feel about that." Conny said, worried.
"Well, maybe a bit closer to home. I'll take you on a date."
"A date? Like a proper date?"
"Yep. And one that isn't quidditch practice, either." He winked.
Conny blushed. "Er… ehem, that sounds great. Owl me?"
"Every day, if you want." He leaned in closer, and their lips met in a bashful kiss. Az's grip on her hand tightened and he swung their joined arms side to side, smiling slightly into the kiss.
"Your dad is watching." He whispered.
Conny broke away immediately, her face going bright red. Oh no. There'd be a lot to answer for. "I've got to go."
"I'll see you?"
"Of course you will. Have a good holiday!"
"You too!" He waved her away and she jogged over to David, who was looking a mixture between shell-shocked and disapproving. He glared over at Az, as if sizing him up and determining his suitability. Conny cleared her throat at him.
"Er, hi, daddy."
"He's a Slytherin." David said.
"He's lovely. And he writes poetry."
"Poetry?"
"Yes, daddy. Don't stare, it's rude, and you're making him uneasy." She grabbed her father and led him towards the barrier between the platform and the muggle world.
"You've been busy." He noted, taking her trunk for her. "Too much to put in a letter?"
"Why the inquisition? Didn't the school tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"A load of second-years caught dragon pox. I was in quarantine for a week."
"Dragon pox! I thought we had herd immunity to that these days. Ah, well. Let's go, your mum'll be going spare waiting. We have a lot to talk about, Conyeri."
Conny gulped. At least her summer wasn't going to be boring.
-0-
In a castle, Lucius Malfoy came round, his head pounding. The room was empty, the child and the meddling students gone. He cursed.
He reached for his wand, which he'd dropped when he'd been hit. He pulled one of the fangs on the snake's head, which acted as its handle, and the secret lever sprang open the snake's mouth. From within, he pulled a crumpled photograph, tightly folded into a tiny square, of Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire.
