The Wizard of Oz
The voice was deep and powerful, and spoke with an effortless authority. It echoed around the room, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere. Then she entered: not particularly tall, but regal in bearing, with long black curls and a simple, elegant gown of scarlet and coral. She had a scepter topped with a circle bearing the letter 'A' inside it. It reminded Harry immediately of Ozma's scepter, which had a circle with a 'Z', representing 'OZ'. What would the 'A' stand for? Maybe Audo and Arnust, the two brothers? Was she deliberately trying to copy Ozma? Taunt her?…
The air around her shimmered, and Harry could see she had already thrown up powerful protective spells around herself. At her heels followed a dozen house elves. The elves marched with near-military precision, and ran to take positions around her and at the corners of the room nearby; their hands were lifted, fingers curled, ready to cast spells immediately.
"Princess Ozma," said Blafroua. "Welcome to my home. I hope we can resolve this without any more unpleasantness."
"Release the Queen," said Ozma firmly. "You have held her for over a thousand years. That is long enough."
"And if I do?" said Blafroua. "Ozma, my dear, your whole world will end if I do that. Firstly, of course, none of your wizard friends will ever get their powers back. Would you do that to them? But second, you will lose your whole kingdom. Oz will be destroyed. Is that what you want?"
Ozma did not reply. Her expression did not change.
"You don't know about the Crown?" said Blafroua. "I shouldn't be surprised — I only learned about it myself a few years ago. Yes, you see, when the Queen realized she was going to be captured, to prevent the wizards from gaining ultimate power, she used the Crown to travel back in time and conceal the greatest part of her magic on the other side of the world, in the middle of a deadly desert. She used that power to create Oz and all its inhabitants there. If she is released, don't you think she's going to want that power back?"
This was the first time Harry had heard about this, and he felt sure Blafroua was lying. But it was a strange lie to tell — one that should be easy to disprove.
"Glinda," said the Wizard, "is this true?"
"It is true," said Glinda quietly. "I read of this many years ago in my Book of Records, in which is written everything that happens in the world, as it happens. When I discovered this, I informed Ozma. We agreed that it should be kept secret, for it was not our secret to tell."
The Wizard said something under his breath. Harry thought it was probably not a nice word at all. He himself was thinking something similar. Surely Ozma would back down now. Her responsibility was to her kingdom. She would need to defend it at all costs.
"The Queen created our nation," said Ozma. "We owe our lives to her. She can destroy us, if she so chooses. But I do not think she will. She loves us too well. Release her! It is her choice to make."
Blafroua laughed quietly. "I do not think you know her as well as you think," she said. "If I asked her now, she would beg not to be released. And if I released her, she would beg to be returned to my service. Oz knows." She smiled, and looked at the Wizard. "Don't you, Oz?"
Harry was a bit confused to hear the Wizard referred to as Oz. He was struggling to keep up.
The Wizard bowed his head. "It is true," he said quietly. "We spoke with the Queen before you arrived, your highness, as I was telling you. She has, somehow, become a devoted servant to these mortal wizards. I do not understand it."
"Release her," said Ozma coldly. "I demand to hear the words from her own mouth."
"Fine," said Blafroua. She gestured at the large cage, and one of the house elves leapt to obey her. Harry now saw that there was a huge acorn in the cage. The house elf reached through the bars with his nimble fingers, picked up the acorn, and began twisting the top. After a moment the top came off, and a brilliant misty froth began to boil out of it.
"Oh Queen Lurline!" cried Blafroua. "Your subject, Ozma of Oz, is here. She wishes me to release you."
There was silence a moment. And then a small voice from the acorn said, "I do not wish to be released. The wizards need me." The voice seemed weary and sad.
"You see?" said Blafroua triumphantly.
Ozma glanced at Glinda. Glinda nodded very slightly.
"I do not know what enchantment you have laid on her," said Ozma. "But she is my Queen and it is my duty to serve and care for her. And it is her destiny to walk freely the forests of the Earth, to see the starlight and the moonlight on the grass, to smell the spring air and dance on the surface of the snows in winter. That is her life's true path, and her birthright, whether she wills it or not. And I will bring it to her, if I can; for neither you nor anyone else can keep it from her forever."
With that, Ozma swung her scepter at the ground, and when it struck the stones there was a tremendous flash of light that blinded them all for a moment. When Harry managed to open his eyes again, he saw Glinda's lasso hurtling directly towards Blafroua. But unlike Heiland, Blafroua didn't stand there dumbstruck. She dived out of the way, and the lasso encircled a hapless house elf, who shrieked and disappeared with a crack just before it struck.
Then the air was full of heat and light. Blafroua's elves had released a firestorm. Harry's instinct was to fire back, or throw up a protective charm, but his magic was gone, and he knew his wand would be useless. Instead he used the only weapon he had: his own body. He twisted away from the flames and hurled himself sideways, throwing open his robes to try and protect Ginny and Neville, who were somewhat behind him. He felt the heat of the attack blast around his ears and fingers, and dropped onto the ground, rolling to put out any flames on his clothes. He heard yelling and screaming from the humans, and screeches and cries from the house elves.
"Get behind me, all of you!" he heard Ozma shouting. He unrolled enough to get his bearings, and he saw Ozma standing in the center of a blue halo of protection, impervious to the magical fire. The other wizards desperately scrambled to get there. He tried to get up and walk, but his hands and arms were seared and too weak to lift himself. Instead he just crawled towards Ozma as fast as he could, joining the others.
When he reached the blue halo, gasping for breath in the blast furnace of air, he tried to look around and see who was winning. How could Ozma, Glinda, the Wizard, Kreacher and Coddie withstand the attack of Blafroua and so many elves? They were standing in Ozma's protective halo, waving their arms, preparing some sort of counterattack.
He suddenly wondered, with a sinking feeling, how long the Wizard's magic would last. Blafroua's house elves could strike him squib at any moment.
It must have been just a few seconds, but it felt like much longer, before Glinda cast her spell. As she finished gesturing, she raised her golden lasso over her head, and it seemed to unravel into dozens of golden lights like fireflies. She then released them with a flourish and a shout, and each light zipped away, targeting a specific enemy. The elves screamed, and their attack turned into chaos. Many Apparated away; others slumped to the ground, senseless or dead. Was their magic being removed?
Blafroua, looking determined and angry, threw up a brighter, stronger protective shield, and the firefly targeting her bounced off it. She then conjured a blue bolt that zapped the firefly right out of the air.
Before she could do anything further, however, Glinda unleashed a second cloud of sparks, all of them headed directly at her. Quickly Blafroua conjured another shield, and the fireflies surrounded her in a swarm, hammering away at it. She Apparated to another part of the room and threw up another shield, but the fireflies followed her. She began zapping them out of the air one by one as quickly as she could, but then Glinda released another swarm.
Blafroua was losing! Harry could see the fear and desperation in her face. It was only a matter of time…
"Halt!" cried a high, loud voice. "Halt and hear your Queen!"
Everyone froze. The fireflies vanished. All was silent for a moment. Harry saw the tiny figure of the Queen standing within her cage, arms upraised in command.
"All mortal wizards to whom I have granted power, I hereby revoke my gift. I reclaim my power from you. All my subjects, all my sons and daughters, I hereby order you to stand down: do not fight me, or the mortal wizards, any further. This battle is over."
Glinda, Ozma, the elves, and the Wizard slowly lowered their hands. Blafroua lowered her wand, breathing heavily, her chin held high in triumph.
"It pains me," said the Queen, "but for everyone's safety, I must bind you."
Harry's hands were magically pulled backwards, gently but firmly, and he felt metal shackles appear around his wrists. He could see similar shackles appearing around the wrists of everyone else in the room — golden shackles decorated with filigree, not heavy, but terrifically strong. Only Blafroua's hands remained free, and those of her elves.
"I will now heal those who have been harmed," said the Queen.
Harry's scorched arms and ears immediately felt better. Blafroua's house elves began to wake up, shaking their heads and getting to their feet.
Harry's mind was racing, trying to think of something to do; but what could be done? How could any power defeat the Queen herself? He could only hope that she would make some mistake, or come to her senses somehow.
"My children," she said to the house elves, "my good and loyal children! Please bring to me all the Hourwicks you have gathered. Also, bring me my Crown."
What? What was going to happen now? Harry's mind spun. Was she going to reclaim her power, or something? With a battery of cracks, half a dozen house elves disappeared. A moment later they began to come back, each carrying an Hourwick. Was Harry's Hourwick — the Time Turner he and Hermione used to save Buckbeak's life — there among them?
And how were they going to bring the Crown, if it was as big as Hagrid said?
Within a few minutes, the house elves had placed six Hourwicks around the Queen's cage. Then one house elf came bearing the Crown. It was a completely normal-sized crown: perhaps eight inches across, it would easily fit on a human's head. But Harry could see that it was in fact a dozen tiny birch trees, with all their fine branches and roots intertwined so that they were a circlet of silver. The tiny leaves rustled as the elf gently carried it. Had it simply been shrunk down? The elf put it with the other Hourwicks around the Queen's cage.
"These are the last Hourwicks remaining," said the Queen. "Together, they have drawn away so much of my power that I am dying. I will now destroy them. And in doing so, I will regain my power. And I will destroy this terrible timeline, in which I have not been able to give my full power to my poor mortal wizards. They have had to live in hiding, persecuted by the non-magical humans, instead of bringing peace and prosperity and immortality to the whole of the human world. Let this terrible timeline, and all memory of it, be wiped away forever."
This was it, then, thought Harry. His Hourwick, the one keeping this timeline going, would be destroyed. He wouldn't just be killed; he'd never have been born. Neither would any of his friends, as far as he knew. All of human history would be completely changed, from 800 AD onward.
There was a deadly silence as the Queen began waving her tiny arms. Harry felt almost calm; he had faced death so many times… He wondered if it would hurt. He wondered if he would join Dumbledore at the train station, as he had when he died before. Or would it be different this time? After all, he wasn't being killed so much as wiped from existence. Can you really die if you've never been born?
The Queen gestured at one Hourwick, and a bolt of gold light shot from her fingers and struck the device. It glowed briefly gold, then white-hot, and burst into ash.
Nothing seemed to change. Harry still lived. He realized he was holding his breath.
The Queen destroyed another Hourwick, and then another. Still nothing happened.
Harry realized he was crying: silent tears were running down his cheeks. He wasn't really sad for himself. But everyone he knew was going to be instantly destroyed, and they didn't even know it. He couldn't move his hands to wipe away the tears; but he didn't really want to.
Another Hourwick was destroyed. The Queen was methodically destroying them counterclockwise around her cage. Two Hourwicks were left, and then the Crown.
The Queen destroyed the two Hourwicks. Only the Crown remained. And, somehow, Harry still lived.
Harry's timeline should have been destroyed. Why was he still here? He tried to glance over at Hermione, to see if she had any clue what was going on, but he couldn't turn his head enough to see her.
"And now the Crown of Life," said the Queen.
"No!" screamed Ozma.
This time the bolt the Queen shot from her fingers was black. The Crown seared and smoked, and the leaves of the trees began to rattle and quake. Suddenly it burst entirely into flame. Harry watched the flames consume it, the trees writhing like snakes at first, and then twisting and falling limp like spent matchsticks.
There was absolute silence. All of them stood there, staring at the small pile of burned sticks.
Nothing happened. Harry felt his heart pounding as he waited for something… anything to happen. But nothing did. The Queen stared at the remnants of her Crown, frozen in surprise.
At last the Wizard stirred. With a small little smile on his face, he shook his shackles, once, twice, three times, and they fell off him.
Blafroua gasped. "Who released you?" she demanded. "You couldn't have released yourself! The Queen removed the magic from all wizards!"
The little man did not reply, except to smile more broadly, and lift his wand. A white bolt shot out of it and struck Blafroua square in the chest. She screeched and fell backwards in a heap; her scepter clattered away from her on the floor.
"If you will allow me, your highness," said the Wizard, stepping over to Ozma. He took hold of her shackles, and in a second or two she was released as well.
"Thank you, Oz," said Ozma. She grasped her scepter and advanced on the Queen's cage. The Queen was still staring in mute surprise at the pile of sticks that had been the Crown.
"Your highness," said Ozma firmly, "enough of this. It is not right that the Queen be in bondage to mortals. You must be released."
The Queen looked up at her fiercely. "How dare you!" she said. "You are my subject. Why are you not obeying my command to stand down?"
Ozma did not answer her. "Oz," she said, "can you break open this cage? Glinda cannot, because she is bound by the Queen's command. I cannot, because my magic is not strong enough. The cage is a mix of iron and spellwork, and while I might break the spell, my magic does not work well on iron."
"I believe I can help, your majesty," said the Wizard. "But if the Queen tries to stop me, I do not know if I can fend her off."
"I will not permit it!" cried the Queen. "Touch my cage, and I will consume you with liquid fire!"
"I will protect you," said Ozma grimly to the Wizard. "Be as quick as you can."
The Wizard nodded and took a step toward the cage. The Queen instantly tried to blast him with a bolt of fire, but Ozma had already cast her blue halo of protection over him. She parried the Queen's attack, and then, waving her arms to shape the magic in the air, she molded the defensive shield so that it surrounded the Queen herself within her cage. Ozma grunted and breathed heavily with the effort of the magic. The Queen screamed incoherently and raged against the barrier, but nothing got through.
Carefully the Wizard approached the cage. From the pockets of his greatcoat he pulled out a pair of heavy leather gloves and large thick goggles, and pulled them on. Then he took out a small vial, crouched by the bars of the cage, and carefully poured its contents onto the bars. Nothing seemed to happen. He began trying to turn and twist the bars, and where the liquid had been Harry now saw that the metal was discolored, and seemed weakened and thinner. In a few moments the Wizard was able to snap one of the bars. Then he snapped another, and another. Then he stepped back.
"Your highness," said Ozma, "the spell of the cage is broken. The iron no longer surrounds you. You are free."
The Queen screamed once, twice, then fell to her knees, sobbing.
"How did you disobey my command?" she cried. "How did this mortal human wizard still have his power? Why did the time lines not snap back? I do not understand!"
"I will answer your questions as best I can," said Ozma. "And then you will answer mine. Agreed?"
"Very well," said the Queen.
"I could disobey your command," said Ozma, "because you did not command me. You said, 'All my subjects, all my sons and daughters, I hereby order you to stand down;' but I am not your subject — I am your child, the ruler of Oz in your stead. And while I am indeed your child, I am neither your son nor your daughter. I was born a daughter, but when I was a baby I was stolen away and sent to live with old Mombi, the Wicked Witch of the North. To hide me, she transformed me into a boy, and changed my name to Tip. She raised me as a son. Later, when I was restored to the throne, I was changed back into a girl, and I rule Oz as Princess Ozma, as the law requires. But in my own heart I am simply myself: both and neither Ozma and Tip, both and neither boy nor girl. So, since I am not your subject, nor your son, nor your daughter, your command did not apply to me."
The Queen only gaped at Ozma. She was speechless.
"As for the Wizard," said Ozma, "I do not know how he comes to still have his powers. Can you explain this, Oz?"
The little man smiled somewhat shyly. "Certainly, your highness. I did not lose my powers because, in fact, I have never had any magic at all."
"No magic!" cried Ozma. "Did you not just destroy the Queen's cage? Did you not free us from our shackles? Did you not strike Blafroua with a bolt from your wand?"
"I did," admitted Oz. "But not with magic. I weakened the iron of the queen's cage with a mixture of hydrochloric acid and some other chemicals of my own devising. My wand is in fact fitted with a powerful battery, and the bolt I shot was simply electricity. As for releasing the shackles… well, any stage magician with a lockpick in his sleeve could have done it."
"Where did you learn all these tricks?" said Ozma.
"I learned them in my youth, in Omaha," said Oz. "You see, I was born to a large family of wizards, but I am a squib. I have never had any magical talent whatsoever. In order to keep up with my brothers and sisters, I learned as much slight-of-hand magic as I could; and then of course I learned more tricks when I joined the circus…"
"The Wizard of Oz is a squib?" cried Ron.
"A fraud, in fact," said Oz, grinning. "As I told Dorothy many years ago. I was a very bad wizard, but a very good man. I have gotten better at wizardry, I think, but I still cannot do any actual magic at all."
"But the Hourwicks!" demanded the Queen. "Why did destroying the Hourwicks not destroy the timelines? Why does the Land of Oz still exist? Why do I not have my full power back?"
"I do not know," admitted Ozma. The Wizard also shook his head.
"I think I can answer this one," said Glinda. "As you know, an Hourwick is like a large stone dropped into the river of time; it diverts time's flow onto a new course. But a river, diverted into a new course for long enough, will carve a new channel. It will dig its way into the earth and make itself a new bed. At that point, the rock can be removed and the river will remain on its new course. I believe it is the same way with the Hourwicks. They have been too long in place. Time will not snap back."
"Oh thank goodness," gasped Harry. He suddenly felt light as air; it was as if a tremendous weight — one that had been in place for so long he'd forgotten how heavy it was — had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt like he could take full breaths again.
The Queen looked around from one to another of them. Standing in the remnants of the cage, she looked like a small frightened animal. Her tiny cheeks were wet.
"But why did you free me?" cried the Queen. "Ozma, my child, why did you free me? For the first time in my life I had purpose. I could serve. I could give happiness and joy to others. I did not have to worry if what I was doing was right or wrong… I simply had to obey. I knew purpose. I knew fulfillment. Why did you take that away from me?"
"Your highness," said Ozma gently, "if you wish, you may serve and give happiness to your subjects, who love you. But your destiny, your purpose, is to walk free on the Earth under the sky. That alone will give you true fulfillment, and that can never be taken from you. You would remember this better if your Crown were restored to you. If you will permit me…"
Ozma knelt by the charred remnants of the Crown and, closing her eyes, passed her hands over it. Green light swirled around it. Ozma concentrated, gasping with effort. Then, from each blackened twig, a single golden flower blossomed. The blossoms sprouted green shoots that reached out to each other and wound round each other until they were all bound together in a garland. Then the green light faded. Ozma, still breathing heavily, lifted up the garland, and as she did so, it shrank down to the size of a golden ring. Still kneeling, Ozma bowed her head, and presented the Crown to the Queen.
The Queen looked at it a moment. Then she bowed her own head. Ozma placed the crown gently on her, and the Queen immediately fell forward. Ozma caught her and lifted her out of the cage, standing up.
"She is asleep," said Ozma. She picked up the Queen's acorn and carefully put her sleeping form inside, and closed the lid.
"When she wakes, she will feel better," said Ozma. She smiled, looking tired but happy. "We will take her back to Oz. With her Crown, and her subjects, surrounded by her magic there, I hope she will quickly feel whole again. Glinda, I give her to you for safekeeping."
"Of course, your highness," said Glinda. "Perhaps the Wizard could first release me from my shackles?…"