Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling
Part 3/Chapter 7
It had been midnight when Bellamy had been woken from his dreams by a continual mental voice that seemed to have been calling him for hours, if not days. But it was only mid-afternoon in England.
He arrived in the apparation zone of his home. He looked all around with his eyes, and with his mind, and was surprised to find it quite deserted. He hoped the place still belonged to him. He'd been away a very long time. The grass was rank and overgrown, and there were only two ponies and three old mares in the Old Horses' Paddock, and no other horses.
He talked to them a little while, and then leaned against a fence looking at a mob of sheep grazing in a paddock. Bellamy had never had sheep, only a few sometimes, to help teach defence spells. In the little cemetery were new names. Naomi and Beau had both now died. He touched the stones, with affection and regret. But it was no longer a pain too hard to bear, when people he knew, died.
He yawned again. To him, it was still the middle of the night.
His home was quiet, as he'd seldom seen it. There had always been people around, but now it was still. The office reassured him. Several items of mail lay on the table, and the name on them was his. He didn't even know who was looking after his paperwork any more, since Naomi died, but it appeared that someone was. The furniture was covered with drapes, and the swimming pool was empty. Bellamy made his bed, and got into it, but felt his loneliness. He put it away from him. He would always be lonely. When a man is unique in his world, he cannot expect not to be lonely.
He was wide awake again at midnight, and very hungry. Now he was home, he was reluctant to go out, but there was no food at all in the kitchen, except for an old can of beetroot, which, opened, looked distinctly odd. Bellamy wrinkled his nose, and vanished it. In the end he found a nearly full biscuit tin in the secretary's office, and breakfasted on biscuits. It was a dark, wet night, and although once he might have gone outside anyway, now he went back inside and resumed his explorations of his home.
In the store-room, he found the many boxes of books he'd sent home, and started on a project. One of his books for each of his 'grandchildren.' He needed a list. His descendants numbered several hundreds now, as generations had lived and died. His secretary would have to have a list, as, whether he was home or not, it was automatic that each birth and each wedding was marked by a gift from him.
Meantime, he methodically opened boxes, sitting on the floor, and unhurriedly made each book wrap itself in conjured paper, and sit itself down in the appropriate labelled pile. If there was more than one child in a family, they should have different books.
The job was done. He left a set unwrapped, and just stacked, in case his unknown secretary would like to have a look. And a couple of sets had to go in his library. But in his library, he found that book he'd written in Sweden and had almost forgotten, and spent the rest of the night and a portion of the morning, re-reading it. He impressed himself, and wondered why it had seemed to do him so little long-term good. But maybe it had. Once away from the aurors, he'd never once become so much confused again.
Finishing, he put that book away in the secret portion of his library, along with another book that he'd written a long time ago. And that one, too, appeared to have blank pages.
Helping himself to a few more of his secretary's biscuits, he went outside, to stop in surprise. The very large covered building that was the Quidditch pitch had always doubled as a place for Beau and Simon to take their horses, and to practise their jumping. It was a long way from the house, but he could see a lot of activity.
Prudently, he put a 'Don't Notice Me' charm on himself before walking over to see what was going on. Cars, horse boxes, flags, and children on horses. There was even a small roundabout being erected by a man wearing an orange vest, with the words of a service club on it. But when Bellamy saw a food van entering the grounds, he hurried back to the house for some appropriate currency. He was very hungry.
Lots of children on horses. A local gymkhana, it seemed. Bellamy was pleased that his home was being used, but it would not be prudent for the locals to look thoroughly at him, when some would have known that he was too old to be looking the same as he always had. He kept his Cloaking Magic. There were changes, a new gate let into the high fence, an area gravelled for a carpark, and even a new toilet building.
Bellamy was the first and definitely the hungriest customer for the food van, but finally eating his hamburger, he strolled around watching the frantic activity as men and women prepared for their annual Pony Club gymkhana. He frowned when he entered the indoor arena. Several of his own conjured chairs were still there, and even his own conjures didn't last forever. Quietly, as inconspicuously as he could, he vanished the old conjures, replacing them with new. Chairs vanishing under people was not good policy, besides causing bruises, and he thought there were less than there had been, so maybe some had already gone.
An old man in the corner watched incredulously as a chair vanished as he watched, and was quickly replaced. And now that his attention had been drawn, there was the man he'd known, wearing long hair in a pony tail. And Connor smiled. Harry looked so like he always had, jeans, which always seemed to be faded, and a shirt that was the brightest he could buy, or sometimes conjure.
Bellamy felt his attention, and greeted him with pleasure.
"You've been away a long time," Connor said.
Bellamy agreed, and waved his hand at the activity, smiling, "A gymkhana?"
"My daughter runs it." He pointed to where a bossy woman strode around directing jumps to be re-spaced.
"They're only children," she declared loudly. "We want as few accidents as possible."
Connor and Bellamy sat in a couple of chairs, talking, until Connor's daughter sent them out, saying that all the chairs had to be rearranged.
"Do you have any jobs to do here?" asked Bellamy, "Because if not, we'll go to the house." But even that was not accomplished without incident, as they were suddenly roared at, and told to keep within bounds - no-one was allowed past the fence, and certainly not near the house. Bellamy blinked, while Connor gave a rueful grin. "We'll try again in a few minutes," said Bellamy. And the next time they tried, they were both under the cover of Cloaking Magic.
"Is Adrian well?" Connor asked, but Bellamy had to admit he was quite out of touch. Connor looked around. They'd had to remove dust covers from the chairs in order to sit down. Everything was clean enough, though, and the house was warm and well lit. Connor suddenly asked, shrewdly, "Does anyone actually know you're back?"
Bellamy grinned sheepishly. "I don't even know who's working for me these days, though, as far as I can tell, I still seem to have a secretary - they like teddy bear biscuits. It's all I can find to eat in the house."
Connor laughed, and asked how long he was planning on staying.
"Only a few days," said Bellamy. "I'll see who turns up to do the paperwork, and organise further with that person."
Connor was looking at him with some amusement. "Do you know how to do grocery shopping?"
Bellamy grinned ruefully, "Buy a loaf of bread, and have a slice whenever you're hungry?"
The result of the conversation was that Connor and Bellamy found what they assumed had to be Bellamy's car, since it was in his garage, and, as Bellamy didn't drive, Connor drove him to a supermarket, in order to buy several ready-prepared meals suitable for storage, some basic provisions, and a tin of biscuits to replace those Bellamy had been eating.
Graham had taken his monitor home with him for the weekend, but Bellamy's home was still just a touch too far for there to be readings, although he was sure there had been a couple of flickers. But what he thought he saw for a brief second was obviously wrong.
Connor rather regretfully left to rejoin the noisy activities of the gymkhana on their return while Bellamy did some further exploring.
The extensive gardens were not as well maintained as they'd been in the past, he noted, and he assumed there was probably no-one regularly gardening, though they were not totally neglected. His face lit up when he saw the house that had been occupied by Caradoc and Clare. It showed all the signs of recent occupancy, including an easel carelessly left outside. And when he thought about it, he could feel that they were alive. With the exception of those years of confusion, he'd been able to do that for a long time.
Beau had died, but his house was also still looking as if occupied, presumably by Sybil. Bellamy had a smile all over his face. Three of his old friends were still close, and he would no doubt see them soon.
Through the day, Bellamy had two more large hamburgers from the food van, two ice-creams, and some fairy floss, and watched in pleasure the thrilled children collecting their ribbons. Others became cross and tired. They always did. Connor went home, as he was no longer young, and tired easily.
At last the crowd went, leaving litter, and the signs of crushed and trampled grass. He overheard Connor's daughter say briskly, "Right, working bee first thing in the morning to finish tidying up," and she named a dozen names. The silent groans from those named were almost as audible to Bellamy as the loud voice. Bellamy glanced around after the weary workers left, and still wandered, effortlessly vanishing rubbish as he did. The workers in the morning would have less to do than they expected.
He still didn't want to go out, and started thinking about Keifer, which really meant thinking about Pat. He never even wondered why he so much wanted to get her into bed. For sex, he'd always looked to Medj, as he was just too well known among wizardry. And he'd always looked for older women, not the young ones that might be looking for commitment. She fitted the pattern laid down by habit.
Sunday, Bellamy still wandered aimlessly around his home, beginning to be restless, but not quite knowing what he wanted to do.
Monday morning, as he reached into the pantry for one of the prepared meals, he was startled by a ringing scream. He spun around, but nearly knocked himself out hitting his head on a shelf, and was only just in time to see someone disappearing out the door, still screaming.
Archie entered warily fifteen minutes later, wand by his side, looking for the intruder. A broad smile dawned, and he pocketed his wand. "Boss!" he said.
Bellamy rose from the table, and went to him, hugging him hard. He had seldom been so demonstrative in the old days, but his time with the Italians had left a legacy.
It seemed that Archie still mostly managed his affairs, although two young women had been hired as secretary, and as cook/housekeeper, seeing that Josie was now married with small children. Prudently, Beth had made the journey, and had given the nod to the new employees, before they were hired. It was thought that the reward for the death of Bellamy might have lapsed, but the great wizard would always have enemies.
After a while, two young women entered cautiously, wands drawn, and Archie introduced them to their boss. Alison Kristos was his new secretary, and Kitty Stackpole was housekeeper, and would be cook when Bellamy returned.
The unasked question was answered casually. "Probably in a few months, I'll come back." Bellamy said. "I have a little business to attend to before I come back for good." He'd just said it, but he still didn't know himself what his business might be, and thought it was just an excuse. He wasn't ready to return.
Kitty asked, "Have you seen today's Daily Prophet?"
Bellamy shook his head. "It's been a long time since I've seen any wizarding newspaper."
"It's got all about you rescuing those aurors, and how the prison was originally intended for you."
Bellamy raised his eyebrows.
"Many, many years ago," she continued. "And the skeleton was an old Minister for Magic who ordered it."
Bellamy had his eyes narrowed now. "Did you get his name?"
Kitty shook her head. "I've forgotten."
"John Daunt, Percy Weasley, Cornelius Fudge. Was it any of those?"
"The third one, I think," said Kitty, rather uncertainly.
Alison said softly, "Three Ministers have tried to lock you up?"
Bellamy shrugged. "These things happen." And then he said, "I'm afraid I ate all your biscuits, but I did buy some more to replace them. I'm just not quite sure where I put them."
Alison said, "I wouldn't have screamed if I'd known you were back."
Bellamy grinned. "You came closer to taking me out than anyone's come, just about. You gave me such a fright that I clouted my head and saw stars."
Archie was watching, smiling to himself. Bellamy was back, fully alert, and turning two new employees into loyal supporters.
Kitty asked, "Do you want me to come cook for you now?"
"No need, I'll probably leave tomorrow or the next day," and he grinned. "I'm colossally well organised, Connor Maguire helped me buy ready to eat meals."
Kitty rose, and went to check what was in the kitchen. Five minutes later, she returned. "I'm staying to cook," she said firmly.
Alison added, "And there's things I need to go over with you. So you'll need to join me in the office." The pattern was set again - devoted employees who respected their boss profoundly - and told him what to do.
Archie's family no longer lived on Bellamy's property, as its hidden status meant that it could be quite lonely, and without the presence of the boss, it seemed a bit pointless. He made a phone call, and then wandered around, inspecting the place. There was a little work to be done before the boss came back. And he reckoned they'd move back in, too. Looking after the boss was the family business, after all.
When Paul rode in an hour later, leading a second horse, he looked around for Bellamy, then quietly tethered the horses, and rang the bell of the secondary entry, that led to the staff dining room, and the staff offices.
He found Bellamy sitting on the floor, a list in hand, addressing packages. After a greeting which reassured him that Bellamy did know and care about him, he said, quite casually, "Your new horse is outside, waiting for your approval."
Bellamy looked up in surprise. "I thought the horses were all gone."
Paul smiled. "Come and see. His name's Jester. But there are others to choose from if you don't like him."
When Clare drove her large car in, with Caradoc and Sybil as passengers, it was to the sight of the boss in jeans and bright, bright, red-orange shirt, putting on a buckjumping show on an oddly marked skewbald horse, all in great good temper, and with a vivid aliveness in his face that they hadn't seen for decades. The three had been in London, where a big gallery was staging an exhibition of Clare's paintings. The prize piece was an enormous portrait of the dog, Dobes, now dead.
Paul and Bellamy rode over to see Paul's parents for a little while then, still alive, though Bridon was over ninety, and still living on the stud farm next door. He met Helena, Paul's wife, too, and held their baby, gently touching its cheek with that air of wonderment with which he always greeted new babies. He didn't stay long, because he wanted to talk to Caradoc, Clare and Sybil. He'd be back for good in a few months, he said.
"Tell us, next time," Paul said severely, "You won't have to steal the secretary's biscuits if we know you're coming!"
Bellamy smiled, "I'll try. Archie was going crook, too. And my new secretary nearly knocked me out because she thought I was an intruder!"
Bellamy went back to his job addressing parcels later that afternoon, after an excellent lunch provided by Kitty. Alison had offered, thinking it should be the secretary's job, but Bellamy said that he wanted to do it himself. It was giving him a chance to quietly catch up with the ramifications of his own family, too. There were so many of them these days, and many of the ones now having babies, hadn't even been born when he'd started his years of wandering.
He came to a couple of names, and looked up at Kitty, who was already itching to tidy the lounge-room in which he worked. "I've got descendants who are Finch-Fletchleys?"
Kitty giggled. "Piers Finch-Fletchley married Desiree Abercrombie, and you should have seen him preen himself! He was always a pompous twit, and now he's married into the family of the great wizard, he's worse!"
Bellamy was laughing. "It's ironic! Did you know I was 'the Monster,' for a while? People would gather in groups and hiss at me!"
"Well, now the Finch-Fletchleys are throwing an exclusive party for the descendants of Bellamy. And if you cannot prove you're a descendant, you just don't get invited!" She added, "It's Saturday, if you want to go."
Bellamy shook his head. "I can't, I'm not a descendant."
"It'll be a good chance to catch up with your family," she said persuasively. "From what I hear, there'll be a lot there."
Bellamy was thinking about it, commenting, "The Finch-Fletchleys have always thrown a good party, even if they are such arrant snobs."
Kitty said, wheedling, "I want to be there. There's someone I want to know better, and he'll be there. If you go, I could go as your partner!"
But she'd still had no answer when Alison approached with a letter, which she handed to Bellamy. "I know you said just to reply that you've gone away again, but you really should see this one."
Bellamy scanned it, and said, resigned, "I suppose I'll have to. Tell them I'll do it tomorrow - but only those two, with the addition of any children needing me. Otherwise, they'll have to wait until I come back."
So Tuesday, Bellamy was back in the Ministry, and cured two pumpkin-heads, and eight children. And when Dieter greeted him, he was given his correct name.
Nathan Bagster, head of the Department of Public Relations, sat with the observers, and saw his own nine year old son cured. He jumped, though, when the great wizard looked straight through the barrier that was almost opaque from his side, and met his eyes. Nathan, Bellamy had been told, was running for the position of Minister for Magic, now that Laurie was resigning.
Graham knew now. Bellamy had firmly declined his request to check him over, which would have given him a lot more information. But he had his monitor, and it appeared that Bellamy was actually better than he'd ever been. The LV was always roughly translated as 'Life Vigour,' but trainee healers were always told it was a lot more than that, but that it was too difficult to explain or to understand exactly what was being measured. Whatever it was, the LV measure now measured 316, when his previous normal was 294.
Bellamy sat on Graham's desk, afterward, as Graham completed his notes. He glanced at Alexander close, and Alexander moved back, out of earshot.
"You know what you told me in the spa that time – to just try to relearn to live in the present for a time - it helped me a lot. I wanted to thank you."
Graham grinned to himself. It was perfectly obvious that something had helped, with a 22 point increase in LV.
Bellamy stared at him, "Shit!" he said, and glanced at his watches. The monitor went blank.
Bellamy was looking resentful, but Graham said accusingly. "I thought you never read minds without a very good reason."
Bellamy was taken off balance at this charge, reddening, "Sometimes a thought's so loud, I can't help it," and remembering his grievance, "And anyway, you've been spying on me!"
Graham grinned at him. "I'll buy you a beer."
"I think I need two!"
Graham nodded, "Two beers, and you'll forgive me?"
Bellamy said, grudgingly, "I guess, and anyway, I suppose Dieter put you up to it."
"They never tracked you down anyway, as apparently you gave away the long range location device."
Bellamy glanced at his right wrist. "There was a woman."
Graham said mockingly, "There always is, isn't there?" And wondered what there was in that to make Bellamy look suddenly sad. There was always a woman, but only when he was married was he truly happy.
There was a gathering afterward, and Bellamy circulated, enjoying the excellent morning tea provided, and talking to the influential men and women who ran the world of wizardry. He had his fingers crossed that they didn't know much about incidents that had occurred in his years of wandering. He wasn't going to ask, and he had to face them of course, no matter what they knew or had seen. This was his world, and even if he'd made a fool of himself, he just had to live it down. At least his first reappearance had been a rescue of aurors. That helped a bit.
He talked to Nathan for a while, during which time he mentioned that he really didn't think that Nathan should run for the position of Minister. Nathan was silent for a moment, and then said, "You knew all along, didn't you?"
Bellamy shrugged, "Pretty much."
Nathan suddenly grinned at him, "It was the best decision I ever made, refraining from killing you. I have a good life now, and I will pull out of the running, if that's what you want." And then they started talking about what had happened to Nathan's son - a revenge attack to punish Nathan for not using his power to someone else's advantage. And then, with great amusement, Nathan started telling Bellamy about the recent career of Spectra McFiddan. "Apparently she's great in bed, and has seduced rather a lot of the aurors, and is now the frequent partner of Theodore Laurie!"
"Surely she should have faced criminal charges when she showed her face! After all, I scarcely punished her!"
Nathan shook his head. "You don't get charged with anything if you go to bed with the one who was thinking about it!"
Bellamy made another objection. "She must be pretty old, surely!"
Nathan shook his head again, "It looks like she's going to be one of those witches who live a very long time - like your Beth. And she's still incredibly beautiful. Oh, and she's claiming to be related to you now, too."
Bellamy was grinning with some enjoyment. "I wonder if she'll be at the Finch-Fletchleys' party on Saturday. It might be amusing to see her in action."
Nathan grinned too. "She's extremely good, and I'm pretty sure it's not magic. She even announced that, in her penitence, she'd make it up to all those aurors whom she turned into pumpkin-heads, and three of them took her up on it."
Bellamy regarded him, disbelievingly. "That's surely not possible. When someone did it to me once, I was so sick with fury, that I came very close to burning him to death!"
Nathan looked at him with surprise. "I hadn't heard that story. Who rescued you?"
"I pulled myself out. It was only a few minutes, and I still shook for days and had nightmares about it for months!" He shook his head. "I couldn't imagine even the possibility of forgiving the one who did it!"
Nathan was regarding him with interest, "Yet you didn't punish Spectra?"
Bellamy was shame-faced. "She was a woman - and family."
Nathan asked curiously, "How exactly is she related? Spectra's very vague about it."
"I don't know, but I can feel it."
"Something scandalous then, I take it?" said Nathan, needling.
Bellamy blushed, "Probably."
Kitty was tickled pink when Bellamy said she could be his escort, but also said that no-one should be told that he was coming, including the Finch-Fletchleys. He'd always liked to keep his movements quiet - it was safer that way. And he doubted that he'd be denied entry.
He became increasingly restless over the next few days, in spite of the way that his staff tried to coddle him, in spite of his new horse, and in spite of the company of his old friends, especially Caradoc. But when Caradoc saw him standing stock still and staring into the distance, even Bellamy wouldn't have been able to say what he wanted. But he'd promised Kitty that he'd go with her to the party, so he had to hang around.
Even when he'd done the spell-breaking at the Ministry, Bellamy had worn jeans and shirt, though he did at least, remember to use a wand. But for the party, he pulled out a set of dress robes, and thought that Julie would probably condemn them as old fashioned now. He wore his hair loose, too, as Julie had always said he had to, because he looked more like a wizard that way. If he wasn't recognised, he might be denied entry without an invitation. Kitty rearranged his collars and patted his hair in almost a maternal way, to his amusement. The name of Sidney Bourne crept into her conversation every few sentences, so he didn't think it was because she fancied him.
Kitty had refrained from telling anyone that Bellamy would be going to the party, but his own casual words to Nathan ensured that each of the six aurors who could claim to be a descendant, would also attend the party, although not in uniform.
As anticipated, the Finch-Fletchleys almost fell over themselves in glee when the great wizard, himself, turned up. At first, when Bellamy met Desiree Abercrombie, he thought merely that she was so many generations removed, that he could no longer detect that feeling of family. But after he met several others, an equal number of generations removed, he looked back at her in some amusement. Piers was so pleased with himself, and hadn't even wound up with a true descendant. There'd been some hanky-panky somewhere along the line. He didn't say anything - old scandals are best forgotten.
Bellamy had already been told that Spectra McFiddan hadn't been invited, as she could not prove the relationship, but he wasn't surprised when he noticed her there anyway. Totally unfazed by her history, she crossed straight to him, and radiated an aura of sexual attraction as she greeted him. Bellamy frankly grinned at her. "Not me, my girl!"
She laughed, and they entertained each other very well for the next half hour. He finally asked her from where the relationship had come. Perfectly calmly, she said, "A prostitute, I think, called Justine."
Bellamy blinked, "Your mother?"
She smiled at him, amused, "My father's mother."
Bellamy was feeling uncomfortable. "I never thought a prostitute would have an illegitimate child."
Spectra said calmly, "She was dead by the time I started making enquiries, but I think it had to have been you."
Bellamy was blushing, to her amusement. "I guess it had to have been," and he admitted, "There was one called Justine, once."
Two aurors watched closely, not far out of earshot. But they were female aurors, as none of the males would admit that Spectra might have another try at killing Bellamy. Katrina and Therese relaxed though, as Bellamy and Spectra separated. For a moment, they thought that Spectra would have Bellamy in bed. Bellamy, too, knew that Spectra had taken aim, and was shocked at her. Most of his descendants were many generations removed, but Spectra was only his grand-daughter!
He enjoyed himself for a couple of hours before he became restless. Kitty was in a corner with Sidney Bourne, so he assumed her plans were going well. When he approached, Sidney jumped to his feet respectfully, but Kitty just waved him away, saying that he could go if he wanted, but that she was staying a while.
Bellamy was in the deepest of dark crimson velvet dress robes, the long dress skirt, with some elaborate fancy work on the bodice, and the embroidered, deep collared cape that was worn over it, and billowed around him as he walked. It was a style of dress totally unsuited to going among Medjkind. He could have changed, using conjured clothing instead. But when he left the party, he left the unusual clothing on, and started walking the streets of London. He was feeling more and more restlessly unhappy, and it had nothing to do with his old pain and his old griefs. He wanted to go to bed with a woman, as it had been over a week. But he didn't want anyone but Pat. And Pat kept refusing him.
For a while he walked, and then he went into a pub, and sat at a table, brooding over a beer, ignoring the jibes and pointing fingers. Finally, his shoulder was roughly pulled back so that he looked up. "Going to a fancy dress party, are we?" said the jeering voice.
Bellamy's answering grin was frankly wolfish. The tough recoiled, muttered something about just a joke, and left the pub. Bellamy's disappointment was considerable. He knew now what he wanted, and he'd accidentally frightened away the one who might have obliged him. But still, he was too good now. One was no competition.
Bellamy drained his beer and went walking. He knew the streets of London well, but it had been a long time. Some rough areas were gentrified, others had become more run down. He ignored a couple of individuals who laughed at his appearance. He reckoned he needed a minimum of two, unless he handicapped himself by not using one hand, for instance. He'd forgotten that long and fancy robes might also be a handicap - even his sleeves dangled into deeply embroidered cuffs.
It took a while, but eventually he was surrounded by a group of four young men. It was in a quiet and dark park in the heart of London, notorious for muggings. It was a part of Bellamy's odd rules for himself that he would not hit first. And for a while, they just paced around him, remarking on his pretty dresses. Bellamy tried not to frighten them away, but a fierce grin kept flashing in spite of himself. He remembered to put a charm on their boots. His fighting was not in any way magical, and he could be defeated. But now, if he went down, he would not be kicked, or not for long. Those boots would vanish if used to kick anything alive.
"You take him, Jacky," said one. Three fell back, and Jacky came forward. Bellamy was still bent on not scaring them away, and allowed Jacky to connect, a glancing blow to the side. It would scarcely bruise. Jacky was becoming frustrated, confused by the billowing robes that turned out to be just empty cloth when he tried to hit.
He stepped back, panting, and Bellamy straightened. A muttered word from behind, and suddenly he was being held by two strong youths, who laughed. "Try him now, Jacky!" Jacky, still panting, came closer, his fist balled. When he threw the punch, though, a quick and strong move meant that it was his mate who cried out and dropped his hold, sinking dizzily to the ground.
There was a mutter of consternation. The small gang were beginning to realise they'd taken on a bit more than they'd expected. Nick was the only one who had a knife, but the mind image came to Bellamy loud and clear, and he whirled, suddenly throwing himself into action. The knife was kicked from the man's hand, but now three others were on him, and he was finding it difficult to free himself, entangled in his own voluminous robes. And now he really took some punishment as the four men thumped into him. He twisted and fought, trying to get to his feet again.
It was looking very much as if he was going to be defeated for a change, when police whistles sounded, and the men fled. Rather slowly, Bellamy got to his feet, and shrugged himself back into his wet and muddy clothing.
The policemen watched, smiling. "Asking for it, weren't you?"
Bellamy flashed a sudden grin. "Yeah, I was asking for it."
"This is a bad place to walk alone, we'll give you a lift out of here."
Bellamy firmly declined, and when they persisted, he said, perfectly casually, that he'd been just about to beat the pants off them, he just hadn't got around to it yet. They laughed at his boast, but left him alone.
The wind had risen, and Bellamy was still restless. Instead of any sort of prudent action, he used his magic to clean and dry himself and his muddy clothing, and to mend a tear in his cape. And then he walked along the banks of the Thames, as the wind blew stronger.
When the same policemen came across him an hour later, he was just standing, looking into the wind, as his robes billowed around him. There was an aura of power about him, and one of the policeman said to the other, "He's a bit frightening, like maybe he's Merlin, or something!" The other stared, then shook his head. "Nah, just a very stupid man who shouldn't be let out by himself." But neither showed any inclination to approach, and their conversation on the radio to another patrol car drew the attention of the witch who always monitored police radio. Wizardry had to be kept out of the notice of Medjkind, and discretion was enforced with penalties. The result was a Ministry official seeing Bellamy as he still walked, lonely, along the backs of the Thames. The timid man recognised the great wizard, and didn't approach. By the time his report was followed up, the two aurors found him gone.
When Archie went to see Bellamy Sunday, he found only a short note left on Alison's desk. 'Back in a few months, I'll try and give you warning before I come back next time.' Archie shook his head - no forwarding address, of course.
A few days later, Alison found that her boss had been summoned to a disciplinary hearing, for appearing in blatant wizard dress, out of a wizarding area. There had been a lot of anxious discussion whether he should be summoned, but anyone else would have been, and it was finally decided that they had no choice. Alison had to say that he was gone, no-one knew where. In his absence, he was found guilty, and Alison, on Archie's instructions, paid the fine he'd incurred, as she paid all his other accounts.
***chapter end***