A/N: Rumors and speculations about the Ministry, Harry visits his healer, Gabrielle is NOT happy with one Harry J. Potter, and new toys for everyone except Cedric (but that's okay...Harry's all the toy he really wants or needs).
Disclaimer: Logic only gives man what he needs...Magic gives him what he wants--Tom Robbins
Chapter 50
Cedric Diggory stood at the helm of his flying carpet as it raced across the English Channel. Far below him, choppy waves could just be made out by the unaided eye. Glancing at his wristwatch--a souvenir from his time in Japan--he grimaced, then increased the speed of the carpet another notch.
Beside him, Harry Potter noticed, and checked his own watch, also a souvenir from the same Japan vacation.
"Relax, Cedric," Harry said. "If we're a few minutes late, Dr. Latour won't refuse to see me."
"I know that, prat, but still...I don't want to be late," Cedric answered back.
"You're the prat who wouldn't get up this morning," Harry grinned up from his chair.
"Oh, so now it's my fault that somebody was lying on top of me and wouldn't move until he was snogged to his satisfaction, is it?" Cedric smirked down at his boyfriend and betrothed, who at least had the grace to blush and grin back up at him. Then....
"Well, it's not my fault if you're such a sloppy snogger that we ran late, now is it?"
"Cheeky monkey! I'm going to tell Dr. Latour that you need the finger today, because you're obviously full of sh...."
"Are you sure you two aren't married yet? You certainly fight like it," Mad-Eye Moody emerged from the tent that occupied the rearmost part of the carpet, carrying a steaming mug of tea. "Remus and Sirius are going to eat up Winky's scones unless you get in there right now," he finished, tapping the carpet just behind Harry to cause another chair to rise from the enchanted weave.
"Why do I get the feeling that Winky wouldn't mind whipping us up a fresh batch?" Cedric smiled.
The old auror 'harrumphed' his opinion of that. "That elf would bake a pile of scones the size of the Cotswolds if Harry asked her to, no doubt about that."
"You two are just jealous that my house elves love me best," Harry laughed, rising.
"Harry, love, everyone's house elves love you best," Cedric replied, smiling.
"I know," Harry sighed theatrically. "It's because I'm so sweet and lovable."
Cedric raised one eyebrow at the younger man, then turned to the scarred older man. "Well, Mad-Eye, what do you think?"
"Needs the finger test, definitely. In fact, I'm surprised his eyes are still green and not brown already."
Harry made a great show of ignoring the comments being made about him.
"I still think you should have let me go after that ring, boy," Mad-Eye said, blowing on his mug to cool the tea a bit before taking a sip. "I could have been to Little Hangleton and back again before you'd known that I'd gone."
Harry sighed. "Mad-Eye, we discussed this already, and it's just not safe for one man to go alone...or do you fancy another few months spent locked in a trunk? Besides, you know that you have to be there for Little Jacque to fit your bracelets properly."
Mad-Eye didn't have an answer for Harry, but that didn't stop him from muttering under his breath between sips of tea.
Cedric noticed Harry standing there, apparently deep in thought, and gave his boyfriend a gentle nudge.
"Sickle for your thoughts," he said softly. "Ten galleons to act them out...twenty if I can watch." He waggled his eyebrows and leered suggestively at the younger man.
"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around some of the things that Amos told us last night," Harry said just as softly, although he did manage a small grin at Cedric's comment. "Pervy git," he mouthed just loud enough for Cedric to hear.
After they had adjourned to the library for drinks, Amos had gone into great detail about the various factions within the Wizengamot; dropping names, relationships, feuds and obligations until Harry's head spun. Finally, in desperation, the Boy-Who-Lived had asked--no, begged--him to write down a simplified version for later study.
"Like a Quiddich play book, eh? I can do that," Amos had promised with an easy grin.
Basically, there were at least five significant factions in the Wizengamot, and they ranged from barely concealed Death Eaters and their obvious sympathizers to staunch defenders of the Light. Harry was a bit surprised to learn that many of this latter group actually were suspicious of Dumbledore because of some of his past acts. Apparently, they were worried about the Headmaster having held such great power--both nationally and internationally--for as long as he had, and were supporting an agenda that included regularly rotating the Chief Warlock's position. In that, at least, they were firmly in agreement with the pureblood extremists, although they generally disagreed on almost every other issue.
Between the two poles of these groups were three or four additional groups, each of which had a rather fluid 'membership' as people shifted their support based on the issue of the minute. Of course, each of the groups had at least two members who thought they should lead the Wizengamot, which caused Amos to quip that 'every Wizengamot member sees the next Chief Warlock in the mirror every morning'.
Everyone was generally expecting Dumbledore to try to hold onto his seat with both hands, with the most intense fighting scheduled to occur during the first and second weeks of September.
"Why then?" Harry had asked.
"It's simple," Remus had explained to him. "The first weeks of the school term are typically the hardest on the faculty, the Headmaster included. All of the staff will be dealing with consoling firsties away from home for the first time, first-time magic play accidents--Poppy Pomphrey won't get a good night's sleep until October, mark my words--the sturm und drang of relationships that didn't survive the summer...." The werewolf sighed and gave a rueful smile. "So, if the first two weeks go the way they always do, Albus will have his hands full and won't be able to spend the time he'd need to spend to keep the seat."
"So...if everyone knows this, that must mean that he knows it, as well." Harry had a very thoughtful expression on his face.
"Right you are, lad," Amos had agreed. "But, short of quitting his position as Head master, there's bugger all he can do about it."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked carefully. "I don't mean to be difficult, but if I were in Dumbledore's position I'd be trying to work out a way to have things both ways...or to do something so unexpected that no one could have possibly have prepared for it."
"I see what you're driving at, Harry, but there's been no indication of anything like that so far," Amos said.
"That's just it...you won't see 'it' until 'it' happens," Harry continued. "And without knowing what 'it' might be, I don't see anything that anyone can do to prepare a response ahead of time. That will force each faction to react 'on the fly', and that's a sure recipe for disaster. Isn't it?" he asked, looking around.
Amos Diggory had just shrugged. "I suppose you have a point, but politics isn't Quiddich, lad. It's a dance where everyone knows the steps, and no one's going to risk the consequences of breaking the pattern."
"If you say so," Harry said quietly, but Cedric noticed that his boyfriend didn't seem convinced even though he let the subject drop.
"What about the DADA position?" Moody asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had begun to linger a bit longer than was comfortable.
"Oh, that? Nothing but rumors thus far. I've heard everything from Madam Bones being asked to assign an auror to the post to the Minister declaring DADA a Ministry responsibility and putting his own toady into the job. As if that would ever happen," Amos gave a little laugh.
"Humph. Albus'll be long in the grave before that ever happens," Moody agreed.
Cedric was still watching Harry, who looked like he wanted to ask another question but didn't. Instead, the Boy-Who-Was-Hosting stood and picked up the tea pot.
"More tea, Anna? Sirius, would you check everyone's firewhisky, please?" And with that, the talk moved on to more pleasant subjects.
Cedric jerked as a seagull bounced off the carpet's protective spell with a loud squawk. Unlike his father, he wasn't convinced that Harry didn't have a point about the Headmaster's intentions vis a vis the Chief Warlock's position. Still, he readily admitted that he wasn't familiar enough with the inner workings of the Wizengamot to even begin to guess what might be going on behind the scenes. And, he certainly didn't see how Dumbledore could profit from somehow throwing Britain's governing body into chaos.
Well, worrying about it wouldn't change what was going to happen one bit. So, why not do something useful?
With that thought in mind, he stepped over to Harry, wrapped his arms around him from behind and rested his head firmly on his boyfriend's shoulder. His hands laced together over Harry's flat stomach, except for one finger that went on a tickling quest for Harry's navel.
"I'll still love you even when your eyes turn brown," he whispered, earning himself an elbow in the stomach for his trouble and a giggle when his finger found its target.
***
"Well, Mr. Potter, I am quite pleased with your progress these last few weeks," Dr. Anton Latour announced.
"Doctor, did you do the finger test? Several of us have been wondering just why his eyes are still green, he's so full of it," Cedric asked earnestly.
"No, he didn't do the finger test...and he's not going to, put the glove down...gits, I'm surrounded by bloody gits," Harry spat at his boyfriend and his doctor. "Now, if you two are quite finished, I'd like to know about my magical core."
Dr. Latour smiled and stuffed the disposable glove back in the box. "Very well, Mr. Potter, if you refuse the rectal and prostate exam...." When Harry gave him a death glare, the French healer merely laughed. "Oh, such a fierce expression, Mr. Potter...at any rate, I can detect only faint residual traces of both blocks on your magical core. I would expect that those traces will be completely dissipated within the next few weeks, but effectively your core is unblocked now."
All levity forgotten, Harry and Cedric both nodded their understanding, and they shared a quick look of relief that Dr. Latour noticed but chose not to comment on.
"Now, as to the tear in your core, it is much smaller, but seems to be reaching a point where it may not improve any further. It almost seems to be 'scarring down'--if I can use that phrase, purely as an analogy, you understand--around some foreign component that is refusing to allow it to heal." He shrugged, perplexed. "I have no explanation for this, I'm afraid."
Harry and Cedric turned to each other, communicating without words for several moments. Then, Cedric nodded once.
Harry looked back at his healer and took a deep breath. "Doctor, have you ever heard of horcruxes?"
***
A brief discussion later, which went much faster than Cedric and Harry had suspected it might--Dr. Latour could see the evidence with his own eyes--the Frenchman sat back and let out a long, low whistle.
"Had I not seen this myself, I never would have believed that anyone, even a Dark wizard, would take such an extreme step," he said. Then, shaking himself, he went on. "However, there can be no doubt...now that I know what to look for, the energies are indeed those of a fragment of a soul that is distinct from young Harry's." Shaking his head, he mopped his forehead with a tissue. "And you say that this Voldemort created not just one, but six of these abominations? Mon dieu!"
"We think he just created six," Harry said softly. "We don't really know how to tell for sure."
Dr. Latour pursed his lips in thought. "There might be a way...but I do not know for certain," he said carefully. "I would have to look into it, perhaps make some inquiries...."
"Doctor, I don't think that would be a good idea. We know for a fact that Voldemort has followers here in France, and all over the Continent. If they found out that you were asking about such things, the consequences..." he shrugged.
"I understand, of course, but I do not know how else I might investigate the subject," Latour answered. "In ways, this represents a tremendous opportunity for study, my friends." Seeing how Harry started with he said this, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "My friend, I understand how you dislike being 'different', but I must remind you that you are, by your very existence, very much un-ordinary. Now you tell me that a fragment of another's soul has been implanted in your magical core, where it has no doubt been nourished and protected by your own magic for many years now. This is unprecedented in the annals of both medicine and magic, absolutely unprecedented!"
As the doctor was talking, Cedric had risen to stand with one arm draped around Harry's shoulders, the other hand holding his boyfriend's tightly.
"I understand all of that, Doctor, but what I want to know is...how do we get it out?" Cedric asked coldly.
"I haven't the slightest idea as to how to even begin to try," Anton Latour answered mournfully. "Perhaps an exorcism of some kind? I'm sorry, but I have no method, medical, magical or otherwise, to remove an embedded fragment of a foreign soul." Once again, he could only shrug helplessly.
"Is there anyone you know of that we might talk to?" Harry asked, desperation beginning to color his voice.
Latour shook his head. "At this moment, no, my friend," he said quietly. "I will think long and hard on it, and spend some time in our excellent libraries here in Paris--discretely, I assure you--and perhaps then a solution will present itself. In the meantime, I believe that I have done all that can be done for you for the present."
"Well, we certainly appreciate all that you've done, please believe us," Cedric said, Harry nodding his agreement. "Tell me this, doctor: If we were able to somehow remove the soul fragment, could you then help Harry's core to completely heal?"
The green-clad healer nodded carefully. "Should any such healing be needed, then yes, I believe so. While magical core damage is rare, it is not unheard of, and there are spells and potions to stabilize the core, preventing its complete exhaustion and destruction from such damage. In fact, I can provide you with a formula for just such a potion. I would caution you," he said, raising one finger warningly. "It is a tremendously difficult, time-consuming potion to brew, and the components are quite expensive. Additionally, if memory serves, the potion itself is rather unstable, and has a short shelf-life. Only the larger hospitals such as ours would even think about keeping the component precursor potions on hand, so that the potion itself can be quickly made available in an emergency."
When Cedric and Harry looked at him, confused, he smiled as he realized what he had said. "Let me explain, my friends. Certain volatile potions may be brewed in two or more parts to a certain point, then stabilized prior to completion. These precursor potions can then be quickly mixed, activating and completing the brewing in a short time." He chuckled as understanding lit up the boy's faces. "Mr. Diggory, you at least should have been exposed to this concept, as it is quite common. That leads me to wonder as to the quality of the Potions instruction at your school."
"You're not the only one," Cedric muttered, while Harry just snickered. Well, chalk up one more black mark against Dumbledore, if his lackey Snape had never even mentioned that particular 'quite common' practice in his field.
"Doctor, I'm tempted to ask if you could have your apothecarian here in Paris provide us with one of these potions, as the precursors...just in case," Cedric asked.
"I certainly have no objections to doing so, but they would almost certainly be a 'special brew' item. I'm assuming that the cost would not be an insurmountable issue for you," he saw both boys nodding and smiled, "but it would take several days and would certainly be commented on, at least here in the hospital."
"Umm, that might not be a good idea," Harry grimaced. The last thing they needed, especially before they had the last horcrux in their possession, was Voldemort or Dumbledore hearing about them buying core-repairing potions.
"I thought not," the doctor said, then grinned. "However, I can give you the names of several fine apothecaries here in Paris, and you can arrange for one of your French friends to have it brewed 'for them'. He winked broadly at the boys, who grinned. Also, I will give you the name of an excellent advanced medical potions text, which should provide you with all of the information you might need to give your own brewer."
"That would be great, Doctor! Thank you so much!" Harry gushed, having more hope now that he knew his core might actually be repaired.
"Do not be so quick to thank me, my young friend. I have not, as of yet, found a way to remove the soul fragment from your core. Until then," once more, the doctor shrugged (something he seemed to be doing a great deal of today, he thought). "Until then, you are not well...and my job is not yet done!"
With that, Cedric and Harry sat quietly while the doctor furiously scratched out their instructions. As they were leaving, the doctor stopped them.
"One more thing," he said, stopping Harry with his hand on the doorknob.
"Yes, Doctor?"
Anton Latour glared at both boys sternly. When he spoke, his voice was fierce. "I realize that this summer has been particularly busy for both of you," he began. "Still, that is an excuse, not an acceptable reason." As Cedric and Harry both began to look concerned, the healer continued. "Next summer--by which time I expect this so-called Dark Lord to have been dealt with once and for all--I expect to see you both at my farm, for at least a week's visit. Do I make myself clear?" he said, frowning.
"Of course, Doctor!" "Oh, we promise, Doctor!"
Healer Latour merely nodded. "Very well. I will hold you to your promise. Now, get out!" he said, waving them away.
Laughing and waving, the boys left the doctor in the examination room, shaking his head and grinning as he completed his paperwork.
***
Gabrielle Delacour was waiting in ambush in the clinic's reception room.
"'arry Potter! I am so angry with you!" she announced, stamping her foot and standing with hands on hips. Then, moving almost too fast for the eye to follow, she leaped into Harry's arms, throwing her arms around his neck.
Had Cedric not had Seeker reflexes himself, Harry he would have fallen backwards as the curly-haired missile struck his chest. As it was, only Cedric's hand on his back prevented a tumble.
"'arry, 'arry, 'arry!" the little girl was yelling, causing the other patients in the waiting room to look on in amusement. This was followed by a rapid stream of French that neither of the boys could follow until Cedric pulled his wand, then....
"...and the unicorn was lovely but I am still so angry with you, and Cedric as well, you have both been very naughty and I shall punish both of you most severely for not coming to see me!"
"Gabrielle! Please!" Harry laughed, managing to loosen her arms enough to breath. "We're both sorry, but we weren't able to get an owl to you the last time we were here."
"And why not?" the youngest Delacour demanded to know.
"Because we're both slugs," Cedric laughed, using Gabrielle's favorite insult, "who want to make it up to you by taking you for ice cream. Can you ever forgive us?" he asked.
Gabrielle sniffed, then slid down to the floor before answering. "Perhaps...if it is very good ice cream," she said reluctantly. "But you are correct, you both are slugs! Now, where shall we go for my ice cream?"
"We can go anywhere in Paris you want!" Harry laughed, taking her hand. "Now, if your mother will come with us, we'll go right now," he said, smiling at the elegant French woman, who nodded back.
***
Some time--and a truly impressive amount of ice cream later--Harry, Cedric, Gabrielle and Madam Delacour were on their way to LeGrande's shop.
"So you see, Harry, your first child must be a boy, of course, but then you should have a girl immediately thereafter, and she should be named after both of your mothers," Gabrielle was saying.
"Gabrielle, wait! First, we have to get married!" Harry laughed, thoroughly enjoying hearing the young girl rattling on.
"Mas oui, of course, of course, silly boy. But then, you must come straight here to Paris for your honeymoon, so that the doctors may begin the treatments that will enable you to bear the first of my godchildren." From Gabrielle's tone, there was going to be no argument whatsoever on that last little detail.
"Well, we'll just have to wait and see," Harry said, picking her up and swinging her around. Gabrielle, of course, squealed and acted like she was upset by Harry's actions, but she fooled exactly no one.
"M. Diggory, I believe that my youngest daughter is somewhat attached to your fiancé," Madam Diggory said quietly as she and Cedric watched Harry and Gabrielle at their play.
"I do believe that you are right, madam," Cedric said, happy to see Harry so obviously enjoying himself.
"Please, call me Giselle," she answered back. "It is only proper, as it appears that your family and mine are already bound together."
"And I'm Cedric, and I know Harry will insist on you calling him by his given name," Cedric nodded back.
"Mas oui, certainly. But I am curious...how is it that you and Harry are allowed to roam the streets of Paris with only myself and Gabrielle as your guardians? I was told that Harry was not allowed to roam about without guards because of your so-called Dark Lord."
"Ordinarily, you're quite right, Giselle, when we're in England we always have at least one guard. But, today there's literally no way that anyone could know that we slipped away, and our friends will be meeting us in just a few minutes at LeGrande's shop." He paused, then grinned. "Also, I would bet on Gabrielle against any dozen Death Eaters," he said.
Giselle Delacour sniffed, then returned his smile with one of her own. "Ah, I see you know something of my daughter, then," she ventured.
"Indeed I do, ma'am, indeed I do," Cedric replied.
***
In short order the group was entering the shop of Little Jacque LeGrande. Sirius Black met them at the door, grinning broadly.
"Be warned, boys...Mad-Eye is back in the testing room having his new leg fitted, and he's fit to be tied! Oh, but you should have seen the look on his face when Little Jacque showed it to him--priceless, I tell you, priceless!"
If Harry was worried about what Mad-Eye was going to do to him for his 'little surprise', he didn't show it. "And his bracelets? Did Little Jacque have them ready?"
"Of course he did," Albert LeGrande said, coming to meet them. After hugs and air kisses all around, he went on. "Actually, the bracelets are my own work--Uncle allowed me to craft them--and I believe that he will find them satisfactory."
"If they're anything like the wand this youngster just made for me, they'll be more than satisfactory," Sirius bragged, holding up a new LeGrande custom wand of his very own. "Dogwood, with a cerebrus heartstring as the core...who would have guessed?" he laughed.
"Hmm, so will we need to treat both the wand and its owner for mange on a regular basis?" Harry quipped, then ducked the swat Sirius aimed at his head.
"Watch it, pup...you're still not too big to turn over my knee," Sirius threatened.
"Oh, no...there's only one man who's allowed to turn me over his knee," Harry smirked, winking at Cedric as he did.
Sirius' eyes went wide when he realized just what Harry was implying. "I don't want to know," he said, covering his eyes with his hand and turning away. "Too Much Information...."
"Serves you right, Sirius," Remus Lupin said as he strolled up. "Next time, don't be such a prat about it."
"Well, Remus, let's see it," Cedric cut in quickly before another round of insults and disclosures began. "I know that the LeGrandes had instructions to make you a wand, as well...how did it come out?"
"Most satisfactory, except that someone had already made arrangements to pay for it," Lupin mock-growled.
"Shut it, wolf," Harry snapped playfully. "It comes with your new job."
Knowing that he wasn't about to win that particular argument, Remus pulled a richly-colored dark wand from a new wrist holder. "Black walnut for the wand itself--an introspective wood, very calm and quiet--with a core of mooncalf blood. Quite suitable for me, actually," the werewolf smiled.
"Rather interesting combinations, both of them," Albert commented, ushering the group into a side room where refreshments were already waiting for them. "Of course, once I was informed of the...particulars...of each man, the wands made perfect sense. And, I think that both of them will work quite well, once you are accustomed to them," he finished.
"So you've said, Albert," Remus answered as Sirius just nodded. "I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we're going to have to 'take it easy' for the first few days. These new wands are significantly more powerful than our old ones."
"Perhaps not more powerful per se, but certainly more suited to you than those sticks you were using," Albert sniffed, his disdain for their old wands--Ollivander's creations, both of them--obvious in his tone and manor.
"After all of this madness with Voldemort is done with, I predict that you and Little Jacque will be quite busy," Harry said quietly. "Until then, I'd just as soon we not spread around the fact that a quick trip to Paris could net a Death Muncher a much-improved wand. Merlin knows, they're dangerous enough as it is," he grimaced.
"Until then, Albert, you'll understand if we only send a very few people--people we trust absolutely--here for new wands." Cedric was pleased to see Albert's immediate nod of comprehension. "After we've done what we have to...well, then, I see no reason not to openly discuss just where the Boy-Who-Lived comes for magical implements."
"You may find yourself starting another controversy there, Harry. Ollivander's wands have been considered the gold standard in England for centuries." Remus raised one eyebrow as he pointed out yet another potential complication for Harry's life.
Harry, for his part, just shrugged. "Well, if I do, so be it. And, knowing British wizards like I do, I'd predict that most of them wouldn't change their wands for a barrel of galleons. Especially if it required them to use a French-made wand," he winked at Albert.
"Actually, my friends, LeGrande wands are not totally unknown in your little island," Albert smiled. "I think that, if you were to look, you might find one or two discerning wizards using one of our wands." He looked straight at Harry, who merely nodded back at him.
"Oh, the horror! A French wand!" Cedric laughed, as did all of the others, including Albert. They were still laughing a few moments later when a hoarse voice boomed out.
"Potter! Harry Potter! Merlin's lice-infested beard, I'm going to have words with you!"
Harry smiled as he heard the voice calling his name. "Well, I guess Mad-Eye's done with his fitting, then."
***
Fortunately for one Harry Potter, Little Jacque LeGrande pushed past an irritated Alastor Moody to shake his hand before Moody could draw a bead on him.
"Ah, friend Harry! And Cedric, with the lovely ladies Delacour! Truly, we are honored in my humble shop this fine day! Come, come...we shall move into my office, where we shall drink wine and tell tales of adventures past and future! But first, you must come see just what it is that I have done," he said, literally dragging Harry over to where a still-fuming Moody stood, his robe pulled back to reveal a brand new magical leg.
"See just what a skilled craftsman can do, given a chance," Little Jacque was clearly in the mood to brag. "Now, friend Alastor, move a bit so that young Harry here can see how well your new appendage functions." Ignoring the look on Moody's face, the Frenchman motioned for Moody to move and turn. "Look here, Harry...since your friend's leg is missing above the knee, I was able to construct a magical leg with a knee that fully mimics his normal range of motion. The same holds for the ankle and foot itself, of course. Also, notice how softly he is able to step, and how quiet! No more thumping and stamping around!"
Harrumph "Maybe I liked thumping around, you damned frog," Mad-Eye groused.
"Pay no attention to this rosbif, Harry...he will be most well pleased when he realizes just how well LeGrande has served him. And his bracelets, which you also asked me to make for him...let him complain all he likes; they are fine items, you will see."
"Now, I never said I didn't like the bracelets, you crazy frenchie," Mad-Eye protested, not realizing that he was keeping pace with Little Jacque and Harry without difficulty.
"Tell me, Harry...is the old pomme always like this?" Little Jacque asked, holding the door to his office open so that Harry (and Mad-Eye) could enter.
Harry sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes as he answered. "I'm afraid so, Little Jacque."
"And yet you tolerate him anyway, and even go out of your way to bring him here, to me," Little Jacque said, sinking into his chair. "Sit, sit--Albert, bring us some more chairs, if you please--ah, friend Harry, the depths of your goodness warm this old heart." And with that, he pulled a brightly colored rag from a pocket, wiped his eyes, and blew his nose thunderously.
"Now, see here..." Moody started to protest once again, but was cut off.
"Silence, you ungrateful cur, or I will silence you myself!" Little Jacque roared. Harry had to admit that he was more than a bit impressed when Mad-Eye subsided, muttering.
"There, much better. I will leave you to thank young Harry for his gifts--and make no mistake, they are indeed his gifts to you--at another time. For now, I must ask you all to swear that you will not reveal what I am about to show you, or leave now." Having said that, Little Jacque LeGrande leaned back in his chair and was silent.
"I think that I will now take my leave, gentlemen," Giselle Delacour said, rising. "You obviously have much to discuss, and I should be getting Gabrielle home before it becomes too late. Goodbye, all...and I hope to see you all again very soon."
With that, Madam Delacour took her leave, taking a protesting Gabrielle with her only after crushing hugs for Harry and Cedric and waves for the rest. When they were gone, it left only Little Jacque and Albert LeGrande, Harry, Cedric, Sirius, Remus and Mad-Eye in the elderly wandmaker's office.
"Now, my friends, this is what I have for you," Little Jacque said, reaching into a drawer and taking out a small silk bag. Pulling a writing leaf out of his desk, he spread a velvet cloth over it, then gently shook the silk bag over the cloth. Out dropped a small ivory-colored disk attached to a leather thong.
"Little Jacque...is that what I think it is?" Harry asked carefully.
"My friend, if you think that it is an amulet which will allow you to mimic a binding charm on your magical core, then yes. It is indeed that which you asked me to craft for you." Little Jacque positively beamed in delight. "The necklace itself is graphorn leather, from the same hide as the thongs in your bracelets. For the amulet proper, I have used a piece of erumpent Ivory, which will hold a binding spell in almost exactly the same way as your magical core would. To any but the most careful of inspections, it will appear as if your core is still bound!"
"Wicked," Harry breathed.
"Brilliant," Cedric agreed.
"Woot woot," Sirius added, while Remus and even Mad-Eye nodded, impressed.
"Now, it remains only to cast the bindings on the amulet. Who have you chosen to do that?" LeGrande asked.
"I...I hadn't really thought about it," Harry said, suddenly uncertain.
"We just came from the doctors' office," Cedric added. "He said that all but a faint trace of the bindings was gone. Will that make a difference?" he asked.
"Only if there's not enough there to get a good reading from, lad," Mad-Eye said carefully, his earlier anger forgotten. "As long as there's a trace, then I should be able to duplicate it without much trouble...as long as it's not some esoteric spell I've never heard of," he amended.
"I, also, should be able to cast a similar spell," Little Jacque said. "But I agree with the limitations that M. Moody mentioned." He nodded to Mad-Eye, who nodded back, "If neither of us have ever encountered spells of this type before, then that could be...difficult."
"I wouldn't want to try, myself...spells like that are not something I'm familiar with," Remus said. He looked around the room to see Sirius shaking his head and Albert holding up his hands in a 'not me' gesture. "Although, I suppose we could always try to go back to Harry's doctor this afternoon. After all, he was the one who found them in the first place," Lupin finished.
"Mm, perhaps. But, let us try what we can, shall we? Then, at need, we can see about bothering young Harry's healer," Little Jacque suggested.
Since no one had a better idea, that is just what they set out to do.
***
Ultimately, it required several tries by both Little Jacque and Mad-Eye, and dusting Harry with a selection of rather noxious (and itchy) powders to bring out what traces of the bindings were left before both Little Jacque and Moody pronounced themselves satisfied. As the two wizards worked together, their animosity had completely vanished as they were caught up in the challenge of the task. In fact, when they both sat back, drenched in sweat, their insults had taken on an almost friendly tone.
"Mon dieu, Harry! At last, this greasy boef and I are finished!" Little Jacque exclaimed.
Not to be outdone, Mad-Eye added, "Harry, this bloody frog does damned fine work, by Merlin's beard! I can't see how anyone could see through those fake charms now."
Carefully, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. "I can feel...something in the amulet itself, but my magic doesn't feel different. Is that how it's supposed to work?"
"Absolutely, Potter. That amulet doesn't actually bind your magic, it's just a carrier for the binding spells we put on it."
"M. Moody is correct, Harry. Your magic itself is unaffected, but anyone who attempts to cast a diagnostic charm on you...while you are wearing that amulet, that is...will think that you are still bound as you once were."
"I don't know how to thank you both," Harry said earnestly, to which Mad-Eye and Little Jacque both waved away his thanks.
"Harry, my friend, my fee for this task will not been inconsequential," Little Jacque said. "And, it has been a most interesting challenge, which is a rare enough thing for someone of my age and experience."
"Harry, lad, with these bracelets and this leg...which, I'm told, have already been paid for in full, damn you...what I just did doesn't come close to covering what I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything, Mad-Eye," Harry said quietly. "And Little Jacque, if there's anything I can do for you...the money means little enough to me...then please, just ask."
"I will, friend Harry, I will...but now, I understand that there is one more thing that I am required to do for you before you leave?" the elderly wand maker said, a gleam in his eye.
"Wha...oh, you mean, my 'fake' wand," Harry suddenly recalled, and grinned. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out the red-enameled and lacquered chopstick that he was going to show as his 'spare' wand.
"So, Little Jacque, Albert...we know that this isn't your usual commission, but...could you put a magical core in this chopstick for me?" he asked innocently.
It was several minutes before Little Jacque LeGrande could mute his laughter enough to allow him to do as Harry asked.
***
Later, as they flew over the French countryside bound for the Channel and home, Mad-Eye had a chance to show off his new toys.
"The leg is a fine piece of work," he admitted, grinning. "Even if some speccy gits shouldn't have," he grumped, ignoring the tongue Harry stuck out at him. "It's even got permanent, Finite-resistant sticking, walking and silencing charms built into it. I've never seen the like before," he mused.
"What about your bracelets?" Cedric asked. "And did you get Albert to make you a wand?"
"I passed on the wand...too many people know me, and know my wand. Constant Vigilance!" Moody exhorted, then snorted when everyone just snickered and/or rolled their eyes. "Well, it wouldn't do for me to be brandishing a new wand, along with everything else, now would it? At any rate, these bracers will do just as well, thank you very much!"
Unlike Harry's bracelets, which were styled for a younger man, Moody's 'bracers' were large, flat, solid bands of alder wood, stained a deep black with mix of blood and bile from a Hebridean Black--'the better to hide 'em under black robes, don't ya see?'--with cores of hippogryph talon. Like his prosthetic leg, the bracers were charmed to stick once put on, cutting down the chances that they would be lost or Accio'd during a duel or battle. And, like Remus' and Sirius' new wands, Moody would be putting in some extra time over the next few days to adjust to the new sensation of using a magically-customized item.
Everyone 'oohed' and 'aahed' appropriately over Moody's new toys, and he and Remus and Sirius amused themselves with trying out their new playthings once they were safely over the Channel. Of course, if anyone at sea happened to notice what looked like muggle fireworks, Harry and friends never heard about it.
Much later, when everyone but Harry and Moody had moved back into the tent for tea, the old auror motioned the young Lord Potter to his side.
"Now see here, Potter. Don't think I don't appreciate what you've done for me--I do, and it's Merlin's own truth--but I don't want you thinking that I'm destitute, now. I can take care of myself, and have been for years before you came along." The grizzled veteran's voice was soft, insistent.
Harry just smiled fondly at the older man. "I know that, Mad-Eye. It's just that I wanted to thank you, somehow, for all that you've done for me, and this is one way that I can."
"Oh, pish, lad," Moody shrugged dismissively. "Wasn't nothing," he said.
"Oh, no you don't!" Now it was Harry's turn to lecture a bit. "You've been training me and Cedric for weeks now, and I expect it to continue even after we go back to school. And, I'll just let you know right now, I fully expect you to stand with me when I take down Voldemort. So, Alastor Moody, since anything I provide to you that enhances your ability to help me at the final battle actually works in my favor, I expect you to shut up, take it, and soldier on. Do you have a problem with that?" he finished, sternly.
"So, it's all really just enlightened self-interest, lad? Well, that I can do," Moody grinned. "Auror Alastor Moody, reporting for duty, Lord Potter, sah!" he barked, bracing to attention and throwing off a sloppy salute.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. "Very good, Moody. As you were," he said calmly. Then, cheekily, "I know better than to tell you to 'carry on'."
Alastor Moody barked out a laugh. "Aye, lad, when you have to do that, you'll know that things are well and truly in the pot."
Harry just shrugged. "Story of my life, Mad-Eye...story of my life."
A/N: Once again, I've 'borrowed' information about woods from goldentreewands (dot) com, but any errors are purely mine and mine alone. Love to all of you few, you proud, you who are still reviewing; bite me to the rest of you! (Just kidding) This monster is now officially over 200K words, which still rattles me every time I think about it. And, I'm still not finished yet (although I am working on the last day of August right now). There's still lots to come before September 1st, then a whole entire Hogwarts year to deal with (eep!). Remind me again why I started this thing? Oh yeah...the reviews, that have dried up.... *pouty face*
Next Chapter: Unwelcome guests for breakfast, and the Order meets (oh, joy!)
