Note: Characters and world originally based J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series. This story is set in the future.

Notes for the convenience of readers:Bellamy's employees include: Archie Barnes, Peter & Gabrielle Barnes, Oliver & Vivienne Barnes. Sidney & Kitty Bourne, their sons, Luke, Ross and Ryan. Louise, cook, Alison, secretary, Michael & Dot, Victor, Melanie & Bobby Pickering. Terms used: The Ministry of Magic is known as the DMT, and the Minister is the Dachier, currently Dache Pierre Tranter. The Family Khatabi: Najet Khatabi, (formerly Peterson) 2 husbands, several children. Fudo Khatabi-Richi, in charge of the Fighters. Diethard, Fahada, Patek, Fighters. The freed slaves: Kaede, Emma. Other characters mentioned below: Bryce McKenzie & Joyce Townsend, Ministry Healers, ***Non-verbal communication is that in italics.***

Chapter 48:

Bellamy felt a lot better. The irritating feeling of beard growth on his face was gone. He'd been tempted to make his face smooth with magic, so many times. But that particular action had led to nearly two years imprisonment once, by alerting medj nurses he was not a normal man. He thought it was Najia and Susan and Mary near him, but he wasn't at all sure. Better to have a beard than to have high fences surrounding him and cameras peering at him.

They were letting him eat now. He didn't know why they hadn't let him eat before. They should know a sick man needed to eat. But he was dirty. He had to have a shower. Making a man clean with magic was all very well, but only a shower made him really clean. Chris was there, and he called on his help. Chris seemed a little surprised, but helped him when he asked. He couldn't see very well, and he couldn't walk very well at all. But when he was helped back to bed, he thanked his helper very sincerely and slept peacefully a long time.

Oliver said to Susan, "The first Barnes who came to work for him was Chris. Maybe he was nearly right."

Susan smiled at her father, and said, "A pity we can't bring Will back for him. He's asked for him three times now."

"Will?"

"His portrait's in the entry hall. He used to look after him when he was sick. He always said he seemed to know just how to help, and not embarrass him for needing help."

Some things still irritated him. That stupid man who always wanted to pester him. He had to insist that Hermione was his healer, no-one else. Bryce tried not to disturb him too much.

There was still someone on guard, but they no longer kept their wands drawn. The boss was going to get better, and if he hadn't struck out with his magic when he'd been so unhappy, he was not likely to now.

Oliver and Vivienne, with Chris, their six-year-old son, sold their home in Oxford, and moved permanently into the small home that Archie and Ursula had shared for so many years. For Oliver, it seemed only right and proper that he should look after the boss, as he'd always been meant to. And maybe Chris after him, if he wanted. Vivienne was agreeable. Chris was a wizard, and would need to grow up knowing the world of Anirage. And she'd always liked her strange Uncle Bellamy.

**x**

Six weeks after the shooting, Bellamy lay in his bed, frowning at Oliver. Oliver asked, "What's the matter, Boss?"

Bellamy complained, "You're not Chris. But you're like him. It confuses me."

Oliver scratched his head, and finally said, "Sorry, Boss."

Bellamy was still regarding him, and suddenly asked, "Where's Zoe? I need her."

"In Morocco, I understand, running the country."

Bellamy said fretfully, "Bouchra can do that. I need her here."

"Will I call Najia for you?"

"No. I think I kept her up all night. She needs to sleep."

"Something to eat then?"

Bellamy pulled himself up in bed and agreed he'd like something to eat. "But I have to sit up properly. I can't eat properly in bed."

Oliver said soothingly that he'd organise a table and chair, and a meal. Bellamy thanked him, turned over and went back to sleep.

Bryce visited not long later, listened to what they told him, made a couple of brief checks of the sleeping man, and said he was doing miraculously well. "Proves it," he said to Najia. "A mutation, like I always said."

Bellamy frowned and said, without opening his eyes, "Not a mutation. Hermione said I was a throwback, just the opposite. And you should go away, because I don't know who you are."

Najia sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his forehead, and he opened his eyes and smiled at her. She said tenderly, "This is Bryce McKenzie. He's your healer."

Bellamy put a hand up to her, and his expression changed. Najia blushed and decided that there was really not the slightest reason why she shouldn't start sharing his bed again.

Bryce grinned to himself. Of course he was a mutation. He should have died. Again. Maybe last time, he'd protected himself with magic, but this time the damage had been entirely physical, and he was recovering anyway. A mutation.

Two more weeks went by. Bellamy still needed help to get to the bathroom or shower himself, although he could feed himself now, as long as he didn't go back to sleep in the middle of his meal as he was inclined to do. In the daytimes, there was still a wizard always on duty, but it was Oliver who mostly helped him.

At night, Najia said a guard was not necessary. That there was no risk that he might become aggressive when she was with him. She didn't quite understand that he could be still so sick, and yet ready to resume a physical relationship with her. But she was quite sure it was doing him good. Herself, as well. If her John wasn't good at celibacy, neither was she.

He could never remember why Zoe wasn't there, and Najia explained again and again that she was in Morocco, where she was needed. And again and again, she would agree that she would ask her to come home, because he needed her more.

It was the beginning of September, eight weeks after the shooting. Bellamy slept cuddled up next to Najia, but woke with a cry of shock. Zoe. What was she doing in a battle? What did he remember? Vince had been there. Why on earth would Vince have been there?

Najia soothed him sleepily, and he lay quietly, trying to remember. Even now, his head ached, and he knew that he quite often didn't make sense, though he mostly remembered now that it was Oliver, who helped him, not Chris, who was long dead.

After a long time, he went back to sleep. It was not until breakfast that he suddenly put down his spoon and stared into the distance. A battle. And Zoe had been right in front. Vince would know. He'd been there. No, not been there. He'd been with him, when he'd seen what was happening. He had to see Vince. Now. Urgently. While he could think. Most of the time, his head hurt too much to think.

Najia agreed when he asked, and said, "I'll get someone to collect him."

Bellamy said, "Not a wizard. He doesn't trust wizards. Ask Susan."

Sidney, in the corner, grinned. Ross had told him that Vince had been itching to hit him, the last time he'd seen him. It had best be Susan.

Bellamy still had little endurance, and he was already tired when Susan brought in Vince. He'd been up for three quarters of an hour, longer than he'd sat up before. He greeted him, glanced around the room, and used a rare tone of authority. "Just want to talk to Vince. No need for anyone to stay."

Najia kissed him, and nodded at Sidney. Sidney rose and left, followed by Najia.

Bellamy admitted to his friend, "It's the first time they've left me unguarded. Not so worried I'll get upset and kill people."

"Still got a headache?"

"Not severe any more. Mostly I can think."

Vince pulled up a chair and waited.

Bellamy said, "I've been watching Evita on TV. She does a good job."

"She says it's much more interesting when she gets to be bitchy, or even vicious."

"I enjoyed The Journey."

"Schuster says he thinks it might be like Papacy Scandal, a great movie, but a commercial failure."

Bellamy was beginning to feel confused again, beginning to forget why he'd wanted to see Vince. He was a good friend of course. Did he need another horse? No, he'd chosen Bellaleica for him not so long before. The mare loved to gallop, and Vince loved to gallop.

Vince said calmly, "You're already looking tired. Maybe you'd best tell me what's on your mind."

Bellamy suddenly remembered. "I saw a battle, the Khatabis against Egypt. Najia hasn't mentioned it, and you told me it was just my imagination. That I shouldn't worry."

"I assumed it was real, but it was too late to stop it. You couldn't do anything, and Najia couldn't have, either."

"What did you see exactly? It's blurry in my mind."

"The opposing forces in blue and silver."

Bellamy nodded, "Egypt."

"They were drawn up in ranks, maybe about fifty. I thought it must be a traditional wizard fight as we used to hear about."

"Zoe?"

"I was seeing from her position, I guess because you were. Yoweri was on one side, Sayyid on the other side. Zhang, Diethard, some I didn't know, a big man called Fahada. Abariki, Christian - that's about all I remember, but there were a lot I didn't know."

"Najia hasn't been notified of any deaths."

"Just the day after, I asked if Zhor was in contact. She said that she was, every morning. She didn't say there was anything different that day, so I presume the Khatabis won."

Bellamy said, "I guess. I can feel that Zoe's alive, but my head aches too much to try and know what Sayyid's thinking, for instance."

Vince said with a grin, "Sufficiently good reason?"

"I'm not quite as scrupulous when it's Khatabis. After all, they're not."

He was so tired. So the battle had been real, but Zoe must have won. Vince's voice was faint, and he shook his head, trying to hear better. Vince repeated his question, "Do you want to go back to bed now?"

"Oliver will help me. Thanks for coming."

"Whatever I can do."

Bellamy's mind was suddenly more clear, and he said, wanting Vince to know that he'd helped. "I wanted to thank you. They were going to put me down, and you made them think again."

"I doubt if Najia would have allowed it, not when it came down to it."

"Zoe said to do it."

"Did they tell you that?"

"I overheard it. Zoe's a courageous woman. She probably made the decision that seemed right, with the facts on hand."

"She probably did."

Bellamy smiled slightly, and said, "And I heard you thinking that a few more bloody wizards might die. I don't think they did."

Vince was surprised. "You felt that? And remembered?"

"I wasn't sure what I remembered. It's why I wanted to see you."

Vince shrugged uncomfortably, "Sorry."

Bellamy said, "Think nothing of it." Entirely justified of course. Wizards had done dreadful things to the boy, Valencio. Blackness was threatening him, but then Oliver was there, helping him back into bed and he could sleep.

Najia asked him later that day why he'd wanted to speak to Vince, and he answered that he thought he needed a new horse, because Caesar was too old to gallop any more. It was not until the following day that he again remembered that there had been a battle. It was real, he presumed, because Vince had seen it, even clearly enough to identify individuals. Fahada. Fahada was the Fighter who'd provoked the pleased thought that bloody wizards would die that day. What had the gentle giant done to Vince? Perhaps it was better not to know.

Najia told him a few days later that it was a lovely autumn day, and the sun was shining.

Bellamy asked, "Autumn?"

Najia answered, "It's the tenth of September. Autumn."

"Can I sit outside then for a while? I need Outside."

Najia looked at him doubtfully, but Oliver said, "Dad can make a chair that leans back a little. He can sleep outside as well as he can here."

Najia said, "One of his medj wants to sit with him a while. She's dying, Susan says, and she's already gone to get her."

"She can sit with him outside."

"I'll arrange it. Come back for him in a few minutes."

Najia explained to Bellamy that Kaede would be coming to see him for a little while, but he was talking to Pat, and didn't take it in. Najia wasn't disturbed. Her husband still seemed to be surrounded by ghosts, but when queried said it was nonsense, that dead was dead. Just that he liked to talk to the ones he loved, sometimes.

He was a little irritated when Oliver and Peter tried to help him up, and said they should leave him alone.

Oliver said, "Don't you want to sit outside?"

Bellamy frowned at him, and then said that yes, of course he wanted to sit outside, and explained, "Everything's alive outside, and it talks to me."

"Who talks to you?"

"The grass and the bushes and the trees. They talk to me. I don't even need eyes, and I can see where everything is. Not furniture though. I can't see that."

The boss was very strange, but Oliver and his father helped him walk as far as the garden, and sat him in the comfortable chair. Bellamy felt the Outside, and smiled. Inside was never the same. But he was very tired, and lay his head back and closed his eyes.

The sun was gentle on him as he dreamed.

A little later, Emma helped Kaede to a chair next to his. Both Emma and Kaede stared at him, very thin, haggard, and with the deep furrow across the side of his head, though half concealed with his long black hair. On his knee was a cat, and another on the arm of his chair. The medj had been warned not to expect anything from him, that he still slept much of the time, and forgot who people were.

An awareness seeped into Bellamy. A gentle, wise spirit was close. He smiled and said, "Beth. I hoped you'd come."

Kaede replied, "Hello, John."

Bellamy frowned, puzzled. Not Beth. His mind was suddenly more clear, and he said, "Kaede. Is there something you need?"

Kaede shook her head, smiling. "There's nothing I need. Just wanted to see you."

The cat on his knee purred, and rhythmically sank her claws into his thighs, kneading. He started to stroke, automatically. He said apologetically, "My head aches. It's hard to think." It was one of his medj, who had to be looked after.

But Kaede said softly, "You don't need to think. I just wanted to be near you for a little while. I think you should go back to sleep, if you want."

Bellamy was relieved. He was really too tired to help her now, and she said he didn't have to. Kaede repeated softly, "Go back to sleep, if you want. Forget I'm here." He sighed and closed his eyes.

Beth was there, and he talked to Beth a long time. She had a wisdom and a compassion. She'd been like a wife to him for a while. They'd been Potter & Potter, and had travelled widely, sometimes doing some healing, sometimes building new Aniragias in countries that hadn't had them. But then she'd found her own mate, a true Telepath like herself. Jeremiah. In all their years of travelling, searching, Jeremiah had been the only one. Not like himself and Zoe and Vince, who just had the talent, but a person born knowing all the thoughts of those around them. Beth had been hated for it. He'd been so lonely at the time, and he thought that Beth had always been lonely. Too different. Not wanted, hated even. He and his daughter had loved and comforted each other, and had no longer been lonely. He wondered why he'd never found such a total communication with Zoe. She had a strong talent, and he was skilled, but maybe it was Zoe who resisted it, even more than himself.

He shifted restlessly, and demanded of Oliver, who was now sitting next to him, "When will Zoe come home?"

The other DMT healer, Joyce Townsend, came to see him that afternoon, and did her measurements while he looked at her in confusion. He finally asked, "Where's Bryce?"

Joyce said calmly, "You declared you didn't know him, and he couldn't possibly be your healer. So he said that I'd best take over."

Bellamy was quiet. He'd done that before to poor Bryce. He said, "He should have told me he was just the friend that likes to argue and sometimes goes surfing with me. Would you tell him I'm sorry?"

"Do you want him to be your healer then?"

Bellamy said, "Just that he doesn't seem like he should be a healer. Pesters me. Please ask him to come back? Tell him I'm sorry?"

Joyce smiled at him, "I'll tell him."

Bryce arrived the next day, at the usual time when he came to check on his patient. Bellamy had his eyes closed. Bryce just looked at him, thinking about what Joyce had relayed. That he was a friend, but didn't seem like a healer. Maybe Bellamy was right. That he'd trained as a healer had been almost an accident. What should he have been?

Bellamy opened his eyes, and Bryce started talking about a new theory that Daryl Innes had developed. Bellamy responded, apparently not having lost any of his knowledge about Daryl's Theory of Pecchin, and when Bryce said casually that he just wanted to put a sensor to his head, he tolerated it.

Bryce said finally, "Do you know who I am?"

Bellamy answered, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I'll know who you are."

"My name is Bryce. I'm an old friend." No point provoking a denial again that he might be his healer. Bellamy was erratic.

Susan told her father when Kaede died a couple of weeks later. He asked, "Did you help?"

"I helped. But like you did with Clarence, left them alone once the coffin was lowered."

"Who did the ceremony?" Kaede had always done the ceremonies.

"Hilde. She's a civil celebrant now as well. She lives in Glen Kay with her husband, but that's only very close."

Bellamy remarked, "Most of them are married now."

Susan said, "I'm surprised there's been no real problems for them. None have even been divorced."

"They're strong people."

Zoe felt she didn't deserve her husband, didn't deserve to be forgiven. She didn't even ring any more. She was afraid that he might answer now that he was getting better, and ask her to go back to him. She couldn't. She'd done the wrong thing. Best if he forgot her, and was happy with Najia. Najia suited him far better than she ever had.

The Aniragi News that day said that Bellamy was continuing his slow, steady improvement, but that it was not known when, if ever, he would be fit to resume work spell-breaking. Yoweri had a degree of enhanced power, and Zoe had him report to her, and instructed him to go to Zola or Agneta, and learn to break spells, more than the basic First Aid that all the Fighters and Defenders learned. Yoweri inclined his head, not dreaming of arguing with his leader.

Zoe smiled at him, and asked about his children. Yoweri said proudly that Ling-Swai was pregnant again.

Zoe laughed, and asked who was it this time. "Kanguatjivi. He still spends all his days in the library, but didn't mind when Ling-Swai asked him for a little help. She said he didn't have much finesse, and luckily, once was enough." He smiled, and added, with satisfaction, "And he's black. This one will look like me."

"Is he ever going back to the Congo?"

"I doubt it. Likes Japan better, and is courting Patek's oldest girl."

Zoe was pleased. Kanguatjivi had been cured by Bellamy the day he was shot down, and if he married Suria, he might add his brains to the Khatabi Family. A pity the girl was not of true Khatabi blood, but that could come with the next generation. She rebuked herself. Was she beginning to think like Riza? Selective breeding? But it wasn't the same. No girl was compelled to mate with anyone they didn't choose to mate with. She wished John was here. She still upset him sometimes with her ideas that conflicted with his own sense of morality. Najet upset him, too. She'd apparently set out to repopulate the nurseries all by herself. Eight children, and another on the way.

She remembered John's look of stunned amazement when she casually announced that she might choose a Roos to sire her next child, and then there would be a child growing up as Khatabi that was a descendant of the great wizard himself. Zoe chuckled to herself. She'd managed it, too, though the boy had only been fifteen. She'd confided that she suspected that John might have warned the older ones.

Zoe swallowed hard. She missed him so terribly, terribly much. But she had no right to want him. Najia was a better person than herself. He should be happy with Najia.

There was another letter from Najia, which said that Bellamy was beginning to look less thin, but still staggered if he tried to walk without a cane. Zoe read, Nearly every night, when we go to bed, he looks for you. He's getting better, but no matter how many times I tell him, he still seems to expect that you'll be suddenly there, miraculously by his side again, where you should be. And she'd repeated that phrase, even underlined it - where you should be.

Bellamy stopped asking about Zoe. It made people feel uncomfortable, even guilty. His lost wives came less often. He was getting better, but said sadly to Pat that he'd be sorry to lose her again. Pat kissed him, and told him to look ahead, not behind. He nodded, and explained that he still couldn't talk to Zoe, because she wouldn't listen. Margaret Barnes was suddenly there, smiling at him, and said, Catch her while she's asleep!

Bellamy grinned at her, and said, "Sneaky."

Sometimes you have to be sneaky to get what you want.

Sometimes, you do. But his head ached fiercely, the moment he tried to reach for Zoe. He couldn't do it, not yet.

Another month passed. He used a cane as his balance was still poor, but he was able to walk as far as the horse paddock. Oliver walked beside him, and Chris. Young Chris Barnes, if he stayed, would be the sixth generation of Barnes to look after the great wizard.

Bryce McKenzie apparated, walked across to join them, looked critically at Bellamy, and said, "You're still far too thin."

Bellamy smiled at him, and said, "Maybe that's why I didn't want you to be my healer. Hermione didn't seem to mind my being skinny!"

"How's the head?"

"Still aches rather. Fine otherwise." He put a hand to the side of his head, and added, "I'm very pleased that my hair covers the scar. I have far too many scars." He leaned casually against the fence, trying to conceal the fact that he was already feeling weak and dizzy.

Bryce gave a shrewd look at his pale face, and said, "Don't even think of apparating. It's far too soon."

Bellamy assured him, "I know not to apparate yet. Unless I need to. Otherwise, I'll wait until you give me the say-so."

Bryce grabbed his arm when he started to walk back, steadying him. Oliver said, "How about I get Dusty for you?"

Chris glanced at his father, opened a gate, and led a small dun pony to where the sick man waited. Oliver helped him on, and they walked back gently. Bellamy stroked the pony afterwards, and said, "It's not the first time I've needed a nice quiet pony."

Chris said proudly, "I don't mind lending him, Boss."

Bellamy thanked him, but was almost fainting by the time he was back in bed. Bryce glanced at Oliver's worried face, and said, "He should have died, remember. He's doing very well." He said soothingly to Bellamy, "Just the Niscos, and you can have a sleep again."

Bellamy frowned briefly as Bryce laid a sensor on the back of his hand. It annoyed him to be still so weak. And when would Zoe come back to him. His head still hurt fiercely whenever he tried to contact her.

It was November before he cunningly worked his way into her dreams and showed her all his yearning love. He needed her. He might love Najia, but he needed Zoe as well. Zoe showed him her shame, but he replied, "You did your best. I know you had a fight. I know you punished, more harshly than I would have done. But please, Zoe. I need you."

It was almost too much for him, even now. It was taking so long to get strong. He couldn't sustain the effort, and lost her closeness. Hermione told him that it was just that it took a lot of his energy to heal his brain, and there was too little left to make much progress in other areas. He stood up from his chair, depending on his cane, and staggered toward the bed. Oliver took a quick step to his side, and helped him to lie down without falling down. He muttered a thanks, or he thought he did. His head hurt dreadfully. So tired.

When Zoe appeared in the App. Zone at Emohruo, Ross Bourne looked at her with scarcely concealed hostility. The boss had wanted her, and she hadn't been there for him. Zoe ignored him, only walking to the house and straight to the bedroom, knowing where he was. Najia was there, just looking at him as he lay asleep.

Zoe asked quietly, "How is he?"

Najia jumped, and asked, "Is that what he was doing? Talking to you?"

"He wanted me to come back." She walked to his side, and stroked his forehead. The frown of pain disappeared and he smiled slightly, but didn't wake.

Zoe admitted, "I was too ashamed. I did everything wrong, but he said I was to come back anyway." She turned to her cousin, and said, "I'm sorry. I was trying to be sensible and responsible, but you were right and I was wrong."

"I'm glad you're back. Just me wasn't enough for him. He needs us both."

When Bellamy woke, he was alone in the room, and he stared at the ceiling, suddenly smiling in satisfaction. She was close. He could feel it. He even pried a little, very subtly so she wouldn't feel him. She was in her own room, talking to Najia. Zoe had come back to him. He could be happy now.

Two little girls slipped into the room. They were the three and four-year-old daughters of Louise. Madeline pulled at the bedcover, and said, "Do you want me to help you outside now, Boss?"

Laura said, "Me too. I want to help."

Bellamy sat up, and put a hand to his head. The room swayed sickeningly. The girls waited for him, hopeful, expectant. He had to disappoint them, and admit that he needed Oliver. Madeline said, "I'll get him, Boss," and Laura looked at him critically, told him he was far too thin, and she'd fix him something to eat. Bellamy smiled on the little girl, and assured her he would like something to eat.

But then he forgot the children, as Zoe looked at him from the door, almost timidly, when she was never timid. He took a step to her, holding out his arms, and she went to him, quickly, before he could fall.

Madeline and Laura watched crossly, and Laura said to her sister, "Grown-up men are not supposed to cry!"

Madeline glared, and then said, "Let's play dress-ups in the tree house." They ran off.

***chapter end***