Wheels Within Wheels
The boys would sooner clean slimy cauldrons than ever admit it, but... it was getting much easier to get going in the morning. They fell asleep like they'd been bludgeoned when they crawled between the sheets, and they found themselves waking just a few minutes before their alarm went off... wondering if their alarm was about to go off. They would race, trying not to giggle or make noise, to get to the showers in the morning, and found themselves more or less cheerful when they met Hermione in the Common Room.
Hermione entered the lab with Professor Snape, while Harry and Ron took their seats and worked on their assignments. Harry had worked ahead so that, with the head start he had, he finished the assigned work in the first 10 minutes. He was still in "conspiracy mode" pondering Mr. Filch, and wanted to consult with Professor Snape as a colleague. Completed work packed away in his bag, Harry had moved forward in his Potions text to the chapter on "Healing and Pain Potions", reading on what could be applied topically for long-lasting relief.
Professor Snape, walking to his desk, seemed to have that professional pedagogic radar that alerted him when any student was failing to perform their assigned work. "Mr. Potter, that is NOT the work I have assigned you. If you are bored, or too distracted to be bothered with what is on the board, I'm sure I can find something to occupy your time."
"Thank you, sir. But I completed that already, and I'd like to ask a question if that's ok."
"What's that, Mr. Potter?"
"Well, actually, sir, I'd like to ask you an hypothetical question."
It took all of Snape's self control to keep from rolling his eyes right there in front of both boys, as he stopped dead in his tracks. "You've been spending time with your brother, John, have you not?"
"Yes, sir. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing, Mr. Potter. Just carry on. What would you like to know?"
"Well, let's suppose somebody wanted to brew something that could be added to... like, a gel... or a tub of liquid soap or grease cutter... just a little bit, so that when somebody with sore and swollen knuckles used the soap or gel, the potion could help them relieve pain and the swelling?"
Severus smiled. He'd really need to work with these children sometime in the future about "obfuscation", at least if they were going to keep trying to float "hypotheticals". But anyway, "Well, Mr. Potter, that would depend on a few things. Do you know the specific person this would be for?"
"Yes, sir."
"You know their approximate height, weight, size, and general health condition?"
"I think so, or I could find that out."
"Now, Mr. Potter, this might be a bit trickier. If you're going to apply 'medication' to someone, especially on a regular basis... even clandestinely... you must know if they are allergic or sensitive to that medicine, or if they are taking anything else that might cause unhealthy side effects."
Ron sat at his desk, overhearing all of this, and finally gave up completely on his assignments just to stare at the two of them. He had no earthly idea what was going on.
Professor Snape noticed, asking, "is this a scheme you are involved in, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron's blank look affirmed his answer, "No, sir. I've no idea what he's talking about."
"Then I suggest you return to your work, unless you need for me to find you some more?"
Ron began scribbling furiously.
Harry had been thinking about the Professor's question, and answered, "Well, I might be able to find out what medicines he has, or what he gets from Madame Pomfrey. I know he goes by the Infirmary every day," as Harry had noticed Filch's daily visits to Mrs. Norris. "But as far as his medical background, I don't know..."
"Perhaps, Mr. Potter, if you think more in a 'teamwork paradigm', a solution could present itself."
"Oh..." Harry paused and pondered, "like perhaps one of you guys, one of the adults, could figure that out?"
"Indeed," Snape articulated dryly, "one of 'us guys'."
"Sorry, sir. No disrespect intended."
"Of course not. So, my recommendation would be to use your investigative skills to determine what, if any, pain relief Mr. Filch is currently using, and then we can explore 'variations on a theme' to see about making a tonic to bolster his hand cleansers or whatever. If we base our booster on what he may already be using, the chances of this adventure being exposed are reduced significantly."
Harry looked flustered and nervous, "Mr. Filch, sir? I never said anything about Mr. Filch."
"O, please... You are an interrogator's dream, Mr. Potter. Remind me to speak with you one day about 'subtlety' and 'misdirection'. At the moment, just pray you are never captured by an enemy with a lick of sense. Now, for the moment, go ahead and read through the chapters on analgesics and transport mechanisms, familiarizing yourself with the most common pain relievers, and 'us guys' will explore how to acquire more sensitive information perhaps unavailable to you. Agreed?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you very much."
"I live but to serve, sir," Snape smiled, his voice dripping with comic irony, as Hermione called him back to the lab to check her work. Twenty minutes later, the boys joined her for breakfast in the Great Hall.
Thursday was everybody's "heavy" day, with Slytherin/Gryffindor attending Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and History of Magic from 9 to 5 with only a lunch and study hall break somewhere in the process. Some Thursdays were double session, allowing for both lecture and lab for Potions, or theory and practice for Charms or Transfiguration. It was a grueling day for everyone but John.
The children had evolved a routine of heading to "Harry's House", alias the Konstantyn Suite, for tea and homework on heavy study days, like these.
The Professor would sit grading papers in his Study, a comfortable room a bit smaller than a bedroom off the living area, where he kept a number of his own "restricted section" magical tomes, his secured work files of criminal activity or court proceedings, and a number of artifacts too powerful to leave randomly lying around. He had large desk and very comfortable chair there where he worked, along with a couple side chairs for guests. Here he would grade papers and maintain his grading sheets, or conduct correspondence which was far heavier than the children knew.
Throughout his career, Pavel had maintained a "study" at home where he could think and deal with things in a more "formal" and "professional" mindset, while the kitchen, living room, or dining room were more "informal" and "family" oriented. Sometimes, not often but sometimes, he would take a break and call John in for a game of chess at his desk. But usually, games were reserved for the "family areas". Here, the Study, was the formal location for any "little chat" that had to be undertaken. Here, Papa was far more "Father", in the formal sense, than "Papa" in the diminutive. No child was ever allowed in here alone. There were far too many dangerous things, and they simply had no business here. When the Konstantyns first set up their quarters and introduced the children to them, the Study was simply a closed door that they were told to leave alone.
So, as household rhythms evolved, Pavel chose to bring his work home to his study on Thursdays after class, and try to finish up there for the week, while the children did their homework either in Harry's room or at the dining table with their tea. They would all go to dinner, and if work was finished, they'd enjoy games or just relax until it was time to return to the dorm. Sometimes Pavel would join in a game, or other times he would just relax with a good book near the fireplace enjoying their - usually - quiet company. If things got too rowdy for his tastes, especially if John stirred things up, he would just laugh and banish them to Harry's room, or retire to his own bedroom to relax.
Harry had taken to such homespun routines like a duck to water. He could not have told you how really, but it made him feel "safe", like being wrapped in a soft warm blanket on a cold night. Hermione and Ron appreciated the feel of Harry's House, just as any child would. But for Harry, it was a wholly different thing. He'd felt Hogwarts was his home from the first day he set foot here, but this... this was entirely different. Paul could "feel" the difference in the child, and knew it would take much longer yet for him to know true "security", but this was a fine beginning, indeed.
But right now, given the consistency of expectations and Pavel's habit of ritual and attention to detail, Harry had a problem. In fact, he was afraid he may have a very serious problem. He was fretting about it finishing up his homework that Thursday evening before they went to the Great Hall for supper, and finally decided, about 5:30, that he couldn't stand it anymore. He, Ron, and Hermione were getting their work finished at the dining table, John was sitting near the fireplace reading, and the Professor was in his Study finishing up his own work.
Harry got up, refilled his cocoa, and walked over to John.
"I need your help. I think I'm in trouble. Or, if I'm not yet, I think I'm fixing to be," Harry began.
It didn't take a mind mage to sense that Harry was anxious. John put his book down, cast a quick privacy charm, and sat down on a couch motioning Harry to join him. "OK, Squirt. Tell me what's the matter?"
"Well, I haven't lied, exactly..."
John inwardly sighed. That was never a good beginning... "OK. So tell me..."
"Well, I've got this Dark Arts class with Professor Lockhart, right?"
"Yes."
"And John, he doesn't know diddley-spit! He's a complete waste of space. He's a fraud. He can't win a 'battle' with a Cornish Pixie, WE had to fix that for him. He talks about nothing but himself and his 'adventures', and Hermione's even caught him out claiming to have done things in countries he puts on the wrong CONTINENTS! It kills me even to SIT in there for an hour, watching him flash his 'award-winning smile'."
"Uh, huh. Um, Harry, if you wind up having this discussion with Papa, I strongly urge you to express your feelings in more respectful language. It's fine talking with me... but I really hope you understand, that ALONE would earn you some 'attitude adjustment', Papa would call it."
"Yes," Harry laughed. "I know you're right, and I'll do my best... but really, that's sort of the problem!"
"What is?" John asked, confused.
"Well, this guy is such a jerk... you know what our homework has been for the past 4 classes?"
"Noooo... what?"
"We were supposed to 'summarize' the first four chapters of his book, our textbook, Magical Me."
"Ah... so..." John began carefully, "since you've TOLD Papa your homework has been caught up across those days, you HAVE, of course, completed those assignments, right? O, Harry, please tell me you turned in those assignments!" John laughed and begged with a pleading voice.
"Well, yes, John. Yes, sort of..."
This brought a pained look on John's face, as he closed his eyes. "OK, lay it on me, Little Brother. I can take it. What do you mean 'sort of...'"
"Well," and here Harry paused, trying to screw up the nerve to speak on. "I've turned in all four assignments, but I just can't stand having to sit there and waste half an hour stroking this jerk's ego. So, I went through each of the chapters and just wrote a list... 'And then you went there, and killed this. And then you killed this there... etc.' It just came out to a simple list of like 8 pieces of crap per chapter, and I turned it in. He doesn't GRADE the stupid things anyway, John! It's just a Check or Incomplete."
John took a deep breath. "OK, so..."
"Well, there's this problem..."
"Which is?"
"Lockhart cornered me in the hall before luncheon today, and dragged me to his office. He handed me back my parchments, and said while he appreciated that being 'The Boy Who Lived' I was incredibly busy, he still felt my assignments lacked 'color' and 'narrative flair'. He wants them redone... by Monday... or he'll mark them Incomplete. Now, I can probably just sneak all that... do the work in Study Hall tomorrow and finish up Sunday or something, but..."
"But... as you point out, that would be to 'sneak' it. Not to mention how you answer Papa tonight when he asks if all your work is done so you can have tomorrow free. I see the problem. So, what's wrong with just telling Papa all about this, dealing with whatever that entails, and finishing the work?"
"Well, I'm not afraid... that's not it. But tomorrow I have a Quidditch Practice I MUST not miss, since I missed the one Saturday. And we have the Slytherin game this Saturday. What are the chances that I'll get 'grounded' over this? I'd kill to play Seeker Saturday. You know how good he is at flying and Quidditch, and how good you are. Neither of you have ever seen me play, and I don't want anything to stop that. I know it's not the 'homework' that he'd take so seriously, as the 'sort of lying' and... well..."
"And your attitude about PROFESSOR Lockhart. You need to get used to saying that, Harry. If you slip, the consequences will be immediate. You don't refer to a professor by their last name in this house, or in Papa's presence. You just DON'T."
"I know," Harry mumbled miserably. "So what do I do?"
John just sat there a moment or two with his eyes closed. "All right, I'll tell you what you do. First, you sit down there and start on those assignments. No whingeing, no whining, just suck it up and start the work. Second, you start thinking about how you justify your position in a "little chat" without convicting yourself with your own words. Find ways to express your concerns about the Dark Arts class without being contemptuous and disrespectful of PROFESSOR Lockhart!
"In fact!" John interrupted himself with a finger snap, "I've just had a brilliant idea. Harry, I am your elder brother, correct?"
"Yes..." he responded, confused.
"And you must mind me, obey me, in the absence of Papa, yes?"
"Yes..." Harry continued.
"And Papa is currently behind the closed door of his study... So! Harry Potter! Shame on you for your disgraceful behavior regarding Professor Lockhart and your Dark Arts Homework. Go move your chair and a small table to a corner of your room, and begin your remedial homework this instant! Until I tell you you are relieved of your punishment!"
Harry "got it" immediately. "Omigosh, John... you think this could possibly work?"
"We can but try, Little Brother. Now move it! Before Papa's door opens. And remember... act 'punished', ok?"
"Right!" and Harry "moved".
A few minutes later, Pavel came out from his Study ready to usher the brood to the Great Hall for Supper as John and the children rose when he entered the room. He nodded and gestured the children back to their seats. Ron and Hermione, who had been briefed on the current situation, had been sitting there reading textbooks at the table, John was still near the fireplace quietly reading, and Harry was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Harry" Pavel asked curiously.
John turned to face his father with a rather stern expression, and said, "Harry is in his room, in a corner, working on some remedial homework I have assigned him for disciplinary reasons."
"I see," Pavel responded, a bit taken aback with a raised eyebrow. "Anything I need to address?"
"I don't see why, sir. The situation arose while you were working, so as elder brother with adult authority, I have taken it upon myself to take corrective action on my own. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course, son. By all means. May I ask the circumstances?" Paul inquired, walking to his coat rack to don his robes for the High Table.
"Let us just say there is some remedial writing to be done, a bit of attitude adjustment and behavioral modification, that will probably impinge on the first 30 minutes after we return. By 7:30 or so, I'm fine if he joins in our family life until curfew. I simply felt he needed a bit of a reminder concerning respect and proper academic deportment. For the moment, I'd like to keep this just between the two of us. Perhaps Sunday we could share the situation with you a bit more fully. I should like to complete his correction on my own, by your leave."
"Certainly, Master Constantine. I'm sure Harry will benefit greatly from your training."
"Thank you, sir. Harry!" John called sharply into Harry's room. "Time to go to Supper in the Great Hall. Now, let's see if you can behave yourself."
"Yes, sir," Harry looked down as he put his Gryffindor robe over his clothes. "I'll try, sir." Though he couldn't look John in the eye when he said it. He just headed towards "his door" without getting eye contact with anybody, as Hermione and Ron followed close behind.
Even as Harry walked before him to his door, Pavel could feel that he was being "managed". Harry was radiating "anxiety" certainly, but it was towards himself, not towards John. Towards John there was just that same warmth, and a sense of "relief" and "rescue". It made Pavel smile to remember when he'd seen this behavior and profile before. It was from John as a boy, when Iryna would play "stern punishing mother" addressing his misbehavior, so that Pavel, being as "busy as he was with important things", would not need to "trouble himself" in her words. Whenever he would eventually get the full story, it always turned out that Iryna was taking advantage of their "double jeopardy" rule... that John would not be punished by two different authorities for the same offense, unless there was obvious defect to the first. As long as her discipline was even "close" to adequate, that foreclosed Pavel from "piling on" as they thought of it.
So... he was being "managed". His son had stepped in and "foreclosed" him on something Harry had done, that would probably anger him, and result in a consequence John felt was too severe for the boy. That's what he suspected, at least.
Pavel's suspicions were confirmed at Supper. While he was dedicated to not using telepathy to pry into their lives, he had no such qualms about simple auditory "eavesdropping". As he ate, quietly sitting at the Head Table, he heard Harry spill the beans on the entire conspiracy there with Ron and Hermione. Listening to Harry wax eloquent on his views regarding Professor Lockhart, Pavel was sorely tempted to mind-speak with him right there and then. However, the old intelligence maxim never to burn your best source of information stayed his hand. The children, at this point, had no clue how acute his selective hearing was. Nonetheless, this was entirely unacceptable, and if John insisted on resolving this disciplinary situation, then by gosh he was going to be held accountable to do it.
At 7:00 all returned to the Konstantyn Apartment, John banished Harry back to his room for another half hour of homework, and Pavel and John pulled out their chess sets to play in round robin with the children and one another. At 7:30, Harry asked permission to join them, which John granted, instructing him to bring out his chess set as well.
He was confused, since everyone was paired up and he was "odd man out". But then Pavel walked over, picked up a black and a white pawn, had Harry blind pick, and began a game with him as Harry chose white. So Pavel played at one table against Ron, and declared his moves to another table against Harry. While John played head to head with Hermione. Harry went down in 12 moves, while Ron took 22. John enjoyed playing with Hermione, though she pondered each move overly long. She played a very conservative game, and became flustered when he made any aggressive assault into her side.
Ron and Harry were laughing so much thinking how easily Pavel had taken them out, even blind playing one of the games... John decided to show them something.
"Guys, you don't know how frustrating it was for me... Watch this..." and John summoned a fourth board. Then he walked into his room and got a scarf, walked behind his father, said, "Papa, if you please..." and blindfolded him.
"John, no... this is not right..."
"You did it to me when I was a boy. With all my friends of the chess club. They need to see this..."
"All right, but after this, we play Monopoly, no?"
"OK, Papa, Monopoly it will be. You'd best be quick then."
And John set up all four boards in different parts of the room, as Pavel sat with his back to them, blindfolded, facing the fireplace. Each of them started with white, to give them every advantage. and at whatever pace in whatever order, they announced their moves. Within five seconds of announcing their move, Pavel would declare his, and then the next player would proceed.
Harry was mated first, Hermione second - mainly because she took more time with each move, Ron next, and finally even John. The entire match took them less than 10 minutes, and they were just amazed. John removed the blindfold, thanked Pavel, and banished the sets all back where they belonged.
"Papa doesn't play competitively anymore, because people suspect him of using magic to compete. But he doesn't. That's just mortal chess skill and incredible memory skill and drill. Any of you can learn that. I can only do one to two games myself, he can do several more.
"Anyway, let's see if we can bankrupt him at Monopoly, anyway... We have about an hour before you all turn into pumpkins or white rats, and need to get to bed!"
It became a great night and Pavel let them, indeed, bankrupt him, before his typical cry of "Begone, Waifs!".