Invitations
"So Luna," said Harriet as they waited for Riddle to show up for their regularly scheduled spim, "I was noticing that with all this talk about the Yule ball, we haven't made plans yet."
"You're going to stay here?" said Luna.
"Dietrich has to be here for the Ball," said Harriet, "I think the rest of us were sort of planning on keeping him company, but I don't think … Anyway, I'm willing to do something else if you think it's best."
"I'm going home for the Hols," said Luna, "Feel free to sneak out and visit us any time. But … it would be best if you stay here, most of the networking opportunities will be here."
"Alright," said Harriet, "Should I go to the ball?"
Luna shrugged, "I don't care, you'll have fun dancing even if you have to learn the steps first."
Harriet smiled, "True, I was wondering if you have a preference or a recommendation who I should go with if you're not going to be my date."
"Ah," said Luna, "Give me a second."
She took a step back and looked Harriet up and down, "Tom is looking good lately."
"Tom … I'd expect to dance once with him, if I go myself, but the whole ball might be more of him than I'd want to deal with…"
"No," said Luna, "I meant his future is looking good since the first task, there aren't many interventions that he needs any time soon, slightly better if he goes with your cousin, but the Ball isn't as important as his club … Fleur's partner … is already set and the consequences of that will be in the hands of the ambience of second task and her support group afterwards. We should work on that… Hmm, Kisa and Anoushka could use some help."
"What kind of help?"
"Wait a second, I'm still checking on the last champion, No … Dietrich is more likely to turn into a mercenary again or big game guide or a ranger of some sort, no chance of dark lord status this century or next."
"So?"
"So make sure Ann gets to as many debate club meetings as possible," said Luna, "And … see if you can work something out for Anoushka and Kisa."
"What sort of something?"
"Imagine that … They are somewhat like us," said Luna, "Except neither of them is a metamorphmagus, so they don't have either traditional type of relationship to look forward to later on. Since they don't have any way to get public approval, they don't have any reason to wait for …" Luna shrugged, "some of what they wish for is illegal where they live, most people in their school don't know, but those who do … are very cruel to them, though usually not always openly. If you could help them be more subtle and keep more people from noticing for longer, it would go a long way toward lowering the chances that either of them going … dark, though their definition of that is different from that of Western Europe."
"Hmm," said Harriet, if Luna was using euphemisms it was a very bad, "Alright, I'll see what I can do."
.
"Well that was interesting," said Moit as they stepped out of debate club.
"Did you get half of what Tom and Glenda were talking about?" said Harriet.
"Five eighths by time, perhaps less than that depending on what was compressed into the part I didn't get," said Draco.
"Yes, I'd have guessed I followed about three quarters," said Theo.
"You're just saying that," said Draco.
"Well, and the distinct feeling I need to reread Hobb's Leviathan," said Theo.
"I'd ask you to explain it all to me," said Harriet, "But not right now, my brain is fried."
"No problem," said Theo, "ask the Monday afternoon after the train leaves, I hope to be done with revisions by about then."
"Probably make it the next day," said Harriet, "we can't all be as fast as you."
"That works," said Theo.
"This is your turn," said Draco. He and Padma disappeared toward Ravenclaw.
"Say Harriet," said Theo, "Are you staying here for the Hols, given that your family will be here?"
"Yes," said Harriet, "I think even Lord Potter is coming, at least for the Ball."
"Ah," said Theo, he sounded disappointed. Very disappointed.
"Let me get back to you on that," said Harriet.
"What?" said Moit.
"Huh? Oh, That is called slytherin subtext," said Harriet, "If you're going to hang out with us you need to learn to mask, or you may find people answering things you don't say, and in fact may not wish to have said."
"OK," said Moit, "But what did he … not say."
"He said, 'if Harry Potter is going to be here, I presume you're going to the ball with him and it would be pointless for me to invite you.' To which I replied, 'Harry has not yet either invited me nor instructed me to find him a date, so … thanks for the compliment but I can't answer yet."
"Wow," said Moit.
"Nicely put," said Theo. Which either meant 'thank you for not insulting me,' or it meant, 'you explained that very well for the first year,'
"Thanks," said Harriet.
"Speaking of," said Moit, "I'm not allowed to go unless someone third year or above invites me."
"Ah," said Harriet, "and should I interpret that as a request to set you up with someone?"
Moit twitched, "Maybe?"
Theo chuckled.
"What I wanted to know," said Moit, "Was why Tom was arguing so vehemently for both sides, back when the topic was imprisonment."
"Hmm," said Theo, "Are you aware that Lord Black was recently imprisoned for eleven years without a trial?"
"Um, no?" said Moit.
"And rumour is that Tom also was abandoned for quite some time at a very young age, or maybe several times," said Harriet, "Not enough to damage his ability to talk, but badly enough to give him a better idea what 'solitary confinement' means than most in the wizarding world."
"What do you mean?" said Theo.
"I mean," sighed Harriet, "Great Britain might be the only magical government that uses dementors for guards of their whole prison, instead of only for their worst behaved prisoners. Muggle prisons have developed similar techniques for the theoretically hopeless cases with the prisoner population, using light and walls and quietness, instead of dark and cold and magic."
"I'm not sure I get it," said Theo.
"I'm not sure anyone who's not hufflepuff can get it without experiencing it," said Harriet.
"Did you get that he wasn't pushing for a policy change," said Theo, "but contemplating a modification to some ritual he's recently found? And can't quite decide if it's broken enough to discard, or within his power and creativity to fix."
"Oh!" said Harriet.
"Wha?" said Moit, "You know which ritual?"
"If the common element is solitary confinement, I have a strong guess."
"And you're not talking any more than he is?" said Theo.
"Not … yet," said Harriet, "His ideas are awesome, but my hopes are … not commensurable with his."
"Come on," said Moit, "Give us a hint."
"No. Theo already knows too much," said Harriet.
"Oh, do I?" said Theo, "Hmm, a ritual, with strong connections to solitary confinement. Possibly as a side effect. Anything that seals anything away for later. Something that was intended to have stasis in it but the arithmancy doesn't quite work. Did he run across how to bring King Uthur back and suddenly realize that the poor sop is most likely batshit from being alone for a millennium and a half?"
"Close enough," said Harriet, "Though my impression is that several of the heros of old spent more time alone on the road for months at a time and could handle themselves alone sealed in a tomb, for a lot longer than moderns who can apparate or portkey everywhere, and have no idea what boredom is nor how to face interminable amounts of it."
"Oh," said Moit with a shiver, "Oh is that what solitary confinement is."
"That's what I've heard," said Harriet, "No one to talk to or hug or dance with, no book or newspaper to distract you or exercise your focus on, no clock or sun or stars to tell you about the passage of time, some of the worse implemented stasis charms allow thought but also block access to bodily sensations, divorcing the mind further from reality and choice the foundational reason bodies are said to need minds to start with."
"I'd want to master occlumency before I tried surviving too much of that," said Theo.
"And occlumency, depending on the school and practice," said Harriet, "might provide a crutch and alternate foundation to rest one's sanity on, or it might provide much too strong a lever, with which to pry one's sanity free of everything else that much faster."
"I … can believe that," said Theo, "which school do you recommend?"
"I'm afraid I've interpolated between two or three and settled on my own philosophy based around method acting."
"Because you're a metamorphmagus already," said Theo, "Of course you have."
"A metamorphmagus who was an actress before I could read," said Harriet.
"Ah!" said Theo, "And therefore knowledge belongs in characters more than it does in books?"
"Perhaps," said Harriet, "Ideas belongs in words, words belong in the mouths of those who believe them, mouths and beliefs belong to people or models of people, people are a part of their time and place and culture."
"And what?" said Theo.
"By stopping being myself, there is no knowledge or beliefs to steal. Or at least, nothing is highlighted as important."
Theo laughed, "So when they say, 'clear your mind,' you just switch minds?"
"Perhaps," said Harriet, "What school do you prefer?"
"I'm sure I don't know enough to have an opinion; my grandfather is planning to teach me, next summer."
"Cantankerous?" said Moit.
"No," said Theo, "Antoninus. And Cantankerous Nott was a pen name, if you couldn't tell."
"I'm not sure why I should have been able to tell, British Wizards have weird names."
Theo chortled, but did not try to explain.
"Did this Cantankerous Nott person write anything besides the pureblood directory?" said Harriet.
"Yes, but not under that name," said Theo, "He was actually member of a client line, who acted as researcher and librarian for the House for several decades, I think he did both pureblood directories that decade, the traditionalist one and the blood-purist one."
Harriet chuckled, "Why let all that research go to waste, after all."
"Precisely," said Theo.
.
Harriet trudged through the new snow on her transfigured snowshoes making her careful way down toward the erstwhile cable car that now sat in the middle of its own field with no paths leading to it, like some half Gothic half Tudor box house all the wrong size and placed in a unblemished pastoral scene by an artist with no concept of any kind of wear or erosion or the practicality of any of those kinds of architecture or landscapes. Or just one with a very practical understanding of just how much of the blemishes in the landscape could be covered by even a small Scottish blizzard.
She was dressed in Potter's suit and a fur lined cloak styled after one of Luna's favourites. She wore a face that she expected could be mistaken for Tunde's in three or four years. Her gait was rather unbalanced because a red fox was riding on the tail of one of her snow shoes, except when he would fall off and bound along beside until he could catch up.
"Hi," she told the guard at the door, "I'm trying to find Kisa … we had an appointment for tutoring?"
"Um, alright," he said, "upstairs second compartment on the right, don't know which door after that."
Harriet untransfigured her snowshoes and pocketed them.
.
She opened the second compartment on the right and found a normal sort of passenger compartment, except the benches had been removed and all the walls were lined with doors, and from the echos of voices coming from behind them, each of them was a full size bedroom in spite of the fact that the door frames were shoved together shoulder to shoulder.
It wasn't too early so she shouldn't be waking anyone. Even so, the least offensive strategy ought to be start with noisiest apartment and ask directions, but least gossip inducing might be quietest apartment. Except given the time that she shouldn't be waking anyone, quiet apartments might be quiet because they were empty.
Having no better idea she decided to split the difference, It was the corner by the window.
"Da?" followed her knock.
"Zdravstvuyte."
A groan, and a giggle, "Silly must to be trying in English, yes?"
Harriet groaned back, "Hello, I'm supposed to look for Kisa?"
The door opened three girls peaked out, It was not a large room, about half of the floor area was taken up by two tiny beds whose hardware looked like they could be linked and folded together to make a standard sort of train couch. "Come in," said the girl who'd opened the door. Harriet obeyed, Rdeca hopped down.
The girls that were still seated had books strewn around them, the empty chair also had books around and on it, and the girl who'd let Harriet in picked her way back to it.
"Who told you to look for Kisa?" said the girl on the nearer bed.
"A seer," said Harriet.
Her eyes widened, not in surprise or disbelief but in fear. No one fears a prophecy unless it is about themselves, or about a dear friend. "May I close the door?"
"Ah! Prophecies are often private," said the girl in the corner.
"Yes," said the girl on the nearer bed, "Close it if you like."
Harriet closed the door and turned around wearing her own face. She drew her wand her conjured her usual writing desk chair, this time with a small cushion. Her concession to the cold weather and the insufficient heating (in her opinion) in this room. When she was seated she turned to the others.
"I say," said the girl on the farther bed, "you're the odd one out that got called 'little girl' for doing your best, and then that spoiled brat came and told you to go away."
Harriet blinked at her, "I didn't recognise you sitting down." Or not dancing, to be more exact.
Anoushka grinned, "That's the point."
"Alright," said Harriet.
"Same as changing your face?" said Anoushka.
"Precisely," said Harriet, "Anyway, yes, I'm Harriet Matirni sister of Dietrich, cousin of Harry Potter who is the cousin of Tom Riddle. Harry is also cousin of a third cousin of Fleur Delacour."
"You are here to research genealogy?" said Anoushka, "So you can say you are related to all the champions."
"No," said Harriet, "I just want you to not be confused about whether I care which of you wins. I just want everyone to survive. I think Victor Krum needs the money more than anyone in my family does. Not that my family is rich, only that Victor's mother is very very sick."
"Ah!" she said, "But it is not much money to some people and very much to others."
"Precisely," said Harriet.
"And if I tell you that I also need the money?"
Kisa flinched and Harriet glanced at her then back.
Harriet shrugged, "I am not a judge, and I am not aware of any connection I could exploit for or against you in any way with any of the judges."
Anoushka blinked.
"Which is the point," said Harriet.
Anoushka grinned, "So it is."
"But what is this about a prophecy?"
"Um," said Harriet, "The invisible girl who followed me in, and followed Lord Potter out, she said that all the contestants were quite powerful for their age and most quite talented for their power, and that most of them and Kisa were in danger not just of their lives, but also of surviving to become dark ladies or lords."
"Too much fame and money if I win?" said Anoushka, "it goes to my head and spoils me?"
"That is not the danger that was hinted at to me," said Harriet.
"What then?"
"That you go to the dance with each other and everyone figures out … something that they shouldn't until later … and they … become cruel too soon, before you are ready to deal with it."
Both their eyes opened very wide, "What did she suggest was to be done."
"She said I was to help you find dates if you wished."
Kisa looked sick. Anoushka started to laugh an infectious belly laugh.
Kisa yelled at Anoushka. Probably telling her it wasn't funny.
The third girl chuckled too and tried to explain something.
Kisa yelled something else and they all stopped laughing and stared at Harriet.
"I did not understand," said Harriet.
They kept staring.
"Maybe if you hadn't been laughing, and had been speaking very slow, I might have understood."
Anoushka smiled, "You are in the green hall. All the others warn how sneaky you are, see even your animal is a fox. We want to know, how much you are being paid or what the bet is, that you can decide who we go with?"
Harriet shook her head, "I am just doing what Luna told me before she went home for … solstice holidays."
"And what did she tell you to do?"
"She told me to make my little brother and my cousin available to you, if you wished."
"Did she say which was to be with which?" said Anoushka.
"No," said Harriet, "Only hinted that … that I offer them to you, and that if you didn't want either of them, I try to help you find boys you can get rid of easily when you are tired of them."
"Ah!" said Kisa, "and how will you be doing that?"
Harriet shrugged, "Actually, all the students below third year may not attend unless an older student invites them. I suspect many of them are like my little brother, and would very much like to attend, and would be open to making a deal that they dance two dances with you and then stay out of your way."
"Yes," I see," said Anoushka, "And which of your many cousins did she wish you to set me up with?"
"Harry Potter," said Harriet.
"Nyet," said Anoushka.
"I can make sure he wears something sensible," said Harriet.
Anoushka laughed but shook her head again, "Have I met your brother?"
Harriet glanced around, then back.
"Kisa is petting him."
"What?"
"Moit get down and show them your face already, and make proper bows."
Rdeca hopped off Kisa's bed and shifted.
"Even littler than the invisible one," said Anoushka.
Moit shrugged.
Kisa stood to better assess this pronouncement.
"How old are you," said Kisa.
"Eleven," said Moit.
"No," said Kisa, "You can have him, I'd be afraid of stepping on him."
"Äle! Really?" said Moit.
Anoushka shrugged, and held out her hand.
Moit caught it and carefully kissed the air close above it, as was proper for people you didn't know very well.
Anoushka froze, apparently she wasn't expecting pureblood etiquette. Then she relaxed and smirked, "Very good, this might be interesting after all."
Kisa turned to Harriet, "Who is this cousin of yours? And why should I accept his escort rather than going in search of … a twelve year old that is tall enough to see?"
"Harry is …" Harriet looked up at her. And tried to figure out how to describe Harry. Most of her internal description of him was her own internal method acting instructions, not how she'd ever heard anyone describe him.
"Your step cousins, the twins?" said Anoushka, "like them only haughty."
"Like which one?"
"Whichever one he thinks is best at the time, I think," said Anoushka.
"I don't think of him as haughty," said Harriet.
"What do you think he is?"
"Um, Over protective."
"Of whom?"
"Me and Luna," said Harriet, "also Moit and Tom Riddle, but don't you dare tell Tom that."
"Tom is very strange," said Kisa, "But so is Dietrich, and Fleur, and Fox boy."
"My name is Moit," said Moit, "My fox's name is Rdeča."
"Rdeca, Of course it is," said Kisa. She looked past Moit at Anoushka, "What does Harry look like?"
"Like he thinks— Started Anoushka, then stopped.
"Kind of like—" Harriet quick morphed to Riddle's face then slow morphed to Harry's, "Um. And eyes."
"Hmm," said Kisa, "I'm not sure whether to freak out, or—
"Oh, and he has a scar about right here." She put that on as well.
Kisa wrinkled her nose.
"It's from some runes that his mother put on him before she died," said Harriet, "Sometimes they still work and one of the other runes manages to hide all of them, and sometimes that one shows through."
Anoushka stepped around Moit and grabbed Harriet's chin. "Let me look,"
Harriet wasn't quite sure how to respond to such manhandling. She was used to it from Ann in the middle of a directing or choreography lecture. The abstracted look that Anoushka was giving her on the other hand…
"No, stop changing your face," said Anoushka.
Harriet obeyed.
"Good, now go totally back to normal."
Harriet obeyed.
"Did your mother put the same runes on you?"
"Probably the same," said Harriet, "But mine stay hidden all the time, except for under thief's downfall."
"What is that?"
"Enchanted potion waterfall that halts most runes, washes off most glamours, ends most transfigurations and polyjuice, even breaks the imperious curse. I've only seen it at the bank, but there has been talk of putting it in several places in the ministry."
"Your ministry is so backwards," said Anoushka.
"Um," said Moit, "What about me?"
"What about you?"
"Did Mum put runes on me?"
"I don't know," said Harriet, "take a mirror with you next time you visit Gringotts."
"Don't be a silly," said Anoushka, and turned and lifted his chin. After several seconds she glanced between him and Harriet, "Yes, they are the same runes."
"What do they do?" said Moit.
"You're the rune's expert," said the third girl who'd been trying valiantly to ignore their conversation.
"Yes, but if I can't see them, I can't read them," said Moit, "I'm still just a first year."
"Ah yes," said Anoushka, "I still forget that you people don't start training until eleven."
"My family started training me when I was six, but mostly potions and runes," said Moit, "I can see most runes in the dark, but I can't see small bits of magic against the brightness of her core." He hooked a thumb at his sister.
"Oh," said Anoushka, "Then no one could teach you the technique I used."
"Hmm," said Moit.
"Never mind that," said Kisa, "why can you change your face? Is it glamours?"
Harriet shook her head, "I am called a metamorphmagus, it is rare. I only know of two others." She blinked, "Harry is one of them, so … if you don't like his hair colour he could change it for you." She switched her hair to several different shades, "But … he might forget if he trips or sneezes. And … he might get annoyed if you ask him to show off too much."
"I didn't think he had any problem with liking to show off," said Anoushka.
Harriet frowned, "it's not about showing off, it is like … it is like asking someone to mispronounce their own name. Most people would not even think of asking for that, and most people would not do that. I can change my face, but usually I only do that on stage. I have a friend who changes hers all the time to try to make people laugh. Harry … I don't know if he ever changes his face except to protect me."
"How would changing his face protect you?"
"He … used to switch places with me sometimes," said Harriet, "Usually to get me out of trouble or steal my punishments or other strange things that only he would think of."
"Does he have a strange idea of what authority is for and how to show respect?" said Anoushka, "or does he merely have a strange idea of who deserves respect?"
She opened her mouth but caught herself in time, instead she blinked, "Oh! You keep saying he was acting haughty? And I already know that the Transfiguration professor was there."
"Yes," said Anoushka, "They don't get along?"
"They blame each other for … difficult to explain things about the last war."
Anoushka snorted, "I don't think Magical Britain knows the meaning of war."
"I don't know what that means, but I probably don't want to know. Please do not talk about it with me or Harry," said Harriet, "Harry lost his parents the same night that he-who-must-not-be-named seemed to vanish. Many people say Harry defeated the dark lord and try to praise him for it. He … does not like to be reminded of parents that he does not remember. Others lost much more than that, and so he does not like to complain. But please don't try to ask him about how the war was fought. He might enjoy discussing the politics that led to the war, that is different, just economic math of various sorts. But he won't want to talk about how the war was fought or how heroic his parents were."
"I understand," said Kisa.
Harriet relaxed and resumed her seat. The others resumed theirs as well. Moit made to sit down on the foot of Anoushka's bed.
"Nye!," Anoushka said, "Not on my bed until I've invited you for the sex."
Moit recoiled and seemed to be contemplating the path to the door very eagerly.
"Which won't be for three years, if I have anything to say about it," said Harriet firmly, "Longer if Dietrich or Glenda does."
Moit relaxed.
"Transfigure a chair or something," said Kisa, "Everyone else does."
"I can barely transfigure nutmegs into bolts."
"Why transfigure that?"
"Why matchsticks into needles?" said Harriet, "because the other way around someone might be tempted to eat or burn or breathe."
"Nye," said the quiet girl in the corner, "we will not be talking about the transfiguration sickness. Or that Tom Riddle."
Everyone agreed with that sentiment.
"I'll do it," said Harriet. And conjured a chair for Moit, "Unless you'd prefer a cushioned box for Rdeca."
"This is fine for now," said Moit and sat down.
"So… Miss Matirni of close family connections to all the contestants."
"No family connections to Mr. Krum," said Harriet, "and you saw all the interaction I've had with Miss Delacour, she called me 'little girl' and I blinked at her."
"Yes, I saw," said Anoushka, "tell me anyway, does anyone know how to break the enchantment on their egg?"
"The current consensus is, that it is only a puzzle box, and that the runes are only there to keep you from using magic to look inside to see how the puzzle works."
Moit perked up.
"That is one of the three theories I have," said Anoushka.
"May I see these runes?" said Moit.
Anoushka reached into her night stand and tossed him the egg.
He caught it and began to examine it.
Kisa and Anoushka began to mutter something in Russian much too fast for Harriet to begin to catch.
"Ah, here… or perhaps here." Moit placed his finger very precisely on the egg and began to turn it every which way.
"What did you find."
"Which connector rune I would obliterate to stop the obscuring runes, I can't tell what the others do for sure but they mostly seem to sense levitation spells and attenuate … kinetic force."
"Meaning what?"
"I suspect that it is hollow brass," said Moit, "But it feels heavy like solid gold."
"Probably," agreed Anoushka.
"One set of runes hides everything by just being powerful, the other set of runes makes it seem heavy, even to levitation spells maybe especially to levitation spells."
"Perhaps," said Anoushka.
"May I turn off the disguise runes?"
"Can you put them back after?"
"Yes," said Moit.
"What do you need?" said Harriet.
"Jeweller's hand saw, a tiny paintbrush, and black enamel paint."
Harriet conjured the first two and transfigured the last from a candy wrapper.
Moit carefully set to work.
"Do you want a jeweller's work table too?" said Harriet.
"That would be nice."
Harriet conjured that for him as well.
.
"That should do it," Moit put down the saw and picked up the paint brush. A moment later he put it down again and blew on the egg. Gradually it became much less obvious.
"Well done runt," said Anoushka, "May I see?"
Moit tossed it back.
She looked it over for a while, "I'm believing here," she said, "levitation spells, it does not just notice them to be difficult, it changes the puzzle inside."
She stared then she waved her wand at it.
"Melting down," she said, "well I will melt it back up." She held her wand steady and rolled the egg about something that wasn't its centre. Then she grinned, "and here are the zamochkya, and…" she smirked and twitched her wand and something inside the egg rattled. She shook it and it rattled a bit more.
"I am believing that it is solved," she said and held it over a piece of parchment to catch the lose pieces and pried it apart.
It whined and was quiet. A few tiny hinge pins fell out.
She looked inside and hummed, "It is a music box, I think, but I don't see where to wind it up." She looked at each half.
Kisa said something.
Anoushka tossed Kisa one piece and Moit the other piece. "What can you find?"
"I see more mechanism than there is space for," said Moit, "I suspect that there is space expansion at work."
Anoushka nodded.
"You will be hating me for saying this," said Kisa, "Maybe the winding up is done by the solving."
Anoushka nodded, "Does letting it play to the end unsolve it again?"
"I'm hoping so," said Kisa, "Otherwise you are only listening to the clue once."
"Ah," said Anoushka. She waved her hand and Kisa tossed it back. Anoushka began staring inside the egg and fiddling with the twisty things on the outside.
From time to time it sighed or hummed at different pitches. When it sighed at two pitches together they all winced.
"Three chasovyye mekhanizmy on the inside that are wound together but not by one. Strange. What is the other side?"
Moit tossed her the other piece. She fiddled with it and stuck the pieces together. And began to methodically turn the dials. "It is no puzzle, just a winding made tedious by switching keys all half turns, more a test of patience than intelligent. I think the music it will play will not be pleasant. We will be glad that it stops playing when it is closed."
They watched her methodical progress for a while, then looked around. The girl in the corner had already gone back to her revising. Even Anoushka seemed to grow bored. "Lisjonok," she said, pointing at Moit between twists, "I will see you at Christmas dance, Yes?"
"Yes," said Moit.
"Are you coming here or am I finding you under the big rug?"
"I think you have to come find me," said Moit.
"Alright," she said, "Do you have something formal like what your sister is wearing?"
Moit glanced at Harriet and seemed to notice her clothes for the first time.
"No," said Moit, "Not like that. Something more 1600s."
She narrowed her eyes, "Think hard I am going to peek."
"What?" said Moit.
"Very carefully, I will not look at what you had for breakfast, only at your formal clothes. So think about them and not about breakfast."
Moit growled at her but relaxed.
"Stare at my eyes."
She waved her wand and spoke a word Harriet did not recognise, but the spell light was the same shade and shape as legilimency.
After a second and a half it ended.
"No," said Anoushka, "it is not what I want, Come over two days before and I will find a friend to loan you the clothes I like. And probably charm them smaller."
"Alright, but…" Moit glanced at Harriet.
"You're allowed to say that you won't wear them if Glenda doesn't approve," said Harriet.
"Yes," said Moit, "That is what I mean."
Anoushka stared at the wall for several seconds, "I forget what it looks like to others when I wish to stay away from men big enough to be disgusting." After a second longer she looked at Moit again, "There will be nothing your family will disapprove of. Also shave your face that day, even if you don't think you need to."
"Alright," smirked Moit, like he'd been waiting for someone to tell him that.
"What about Harry," said Anoushka, "What is he likely to wear?"
"Um," said Harriet and took her cloak off the rest of the way and stood up to model the suit, "This is his suit actually, he leaves it with me sometimes when he goes out of the country. He will probably want to wear it when he comes back." She glanced deferentially at Kisa, "Unless you have other ideas."
"It is very plain," said Kisa, "but strange in places, does the shape of the collar mean something?"
"Yes," said Harriet, "most every line means something."
"Teach me to read it."
"Alright," said Harriet and took a deep breath. Queuing up the rather long lecture, and trying to reconcile the information to the mood and tone that she as merely 'Harriet' would use in this situation.
.
They all asked questions, and there were some extraneous corners who's meaning Harriet had to admit that she didn't know. But that one of Harry's Aunt's whom he trusted, had insisted on every aspect.
"It sounds like he is rather more proud of himself than Anoushka tried to warn me," said Kisa.
"I don't know how much of the code is being proud," said Harriet, "and how much of it is about wearing a proper flag to warn everyone who approaches him how dangerous he is supposed to be so that everyone can be appropriately polite if they choose."
"And he lets you wear it?" said Anoushka, "is that normal."
"It is very irregular," said Harriet, "he has given me the authority to speak for him, which is not usual. Even for twins."
"Ah!" said the quiet girl, "Are you twins that were separated at birth, and told that you are cousins?"
Harriet giggled, "Maybe so, it would explain some things. But if so, they went to the trouble of telling at least one of us a new birthday."
"Yes," said Kisa with an imperious wave, "tell him to wear this, but I will bring him a cloak proper for a lord to be wearing."
"Alright, I'll tell him."
The egg clicked differently and stopped winding. Anoushka looked down at it, and after a few seconds let it fall open, no prying required. It sounded awful. After two second's scrabbling, she had it closed again. Everyone eyed her warily before lowering their hands from their ears.
"Ukhodi, err shew-shew?" she waved her fingers at them, "You can tell the others to twist with patience, but let me try to figure out the 'music' on my own for a while."
"Yes ma'am," said Harriet hopping up.
.
Counter cribbing
Mme Bethaz steeled herself and checked her occlumency and pushed open the door, to catch sight of two wizards she didn't quite recognise comparing their left wrists.
"Am I in the right place for the coaches' meeting?"
"Yes," they said, straightening, letting their sleeves fall, and coming at her with aggressively feigned friendliness. Working a fraction too hard to put distance between themselves and their previous pursuit.
"Mme Ummah Bethaz," she held out her hand, "Assistant Duelling Mistress, Beauxbatons Academy."
"Severus Snape, Senior Potions Professor, Hogwarts," said Professor Snape. He took it and shook confidently in the international muggle businessman's style. Potions maker conferences must have similar etiquette to the security professionals conferences.
"Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang," said … Headmaster Karkaroff, he copied Snape. But reluctantly, capable of acting muggle but unused to the need for it and ill at ease.
"Do I know you?" said Professor Snape.
Mme. Bethaz frowned at him, "What do you mean?"
"You remind me of … an acquaintance," he frowned, "are you allied with the House of Black?"
She should not have expected not to be recognised the moment she set foot in Scotland.
She laughed it off with a wave of her hand, "Your British House of Black only exists because we cast them out centuries ago, I was raised to believe that they weren't still around, but have heard recently that they were merely in decline. Am I likely to encounter this acquaintance of yours while I'm here?"
Professor Snape paused the wrong length of time, "She is on the Hogwarts board of governors, she may or may not find reason to visit the school at any time. Though perhaps she'll most predictably choose to conduct business here directly before future tasks. Combining business and entertainment, don't you know."
"Ah," smiled Mme. Bethaz, so he was talking about Narcissa, not herself. That might be more convenient, as long as Narcissa didn't act surprised, in the wrong way.
All the more reason to notify Cissa of her presence and the reason for it.
"Anything else we ought to discuss before the others arrive?" said Professor Snape.
"No," said Karkaroff, glancing at Mme. Bethaz with suspicion, "my other concerns can wait for a later time."
Snape smirked and turned away.
Two more professors arrived and introduced themselves as "Webster Tam, Charms, level three, Koldovstoretz. (Yes, I'm a Yank by birth.)"
Mme. Bethaz suspected he had muggle military training in his background. How he became a professor at Koldovstoretz she wouldn't try to guess.
And finally and reluctantly, "Zoyechka Semetov, race relations, Brown Institute." She looked like she'd be more comfortable be negotiating contracts with a wild kneazle, or a goblin, than here. Mme Bethaz wasn't sure.
"So," said Karkaroff, "we are here today, because we have each been selected as coach and advisor by the contestant that represents the schools for which we work. And it was agreed that our main purpose is to warn them about the legalities and dangers involved in any actions and strategies they wish to take and use in the contest trials ahead."
"Quite," said Professor Snape, "Which is why, I suspect many of you might be consulting with me for the contact information for legal council that can give more exact advice than I can, about what is legal here in Scotland, though the tournament contract does stipulate that the hosting country will in certain cases, defer to the tournament's official judges to make rulings regarding things like self defence pleas and the contestants' state of mind at the time of any untoward occurrences during official tournament tasks. Outside of official tasks, the laws of Scotland and the British Ministry of Magic apply as usual."
"I'll want that right away," said Semetov.
Webster Tam immediately agreed. Though he said something dismissive about 'hoping it wasn't necessary.'
Things became a bit more informal after that, and they agreed to meet weekly.
When she had a chance Mme. Bethaz took Professor Snape aside and asked him about an insect venom she'd heard about that was harmless to humans, and particularly sought after as a preservative for breast-milk.
He knew of the substance but claimed he didn't yet have a source, but he could check. He seemed to derive her reason for asking, but kept his nose out of her business.
When the meeting broke up she made her way out into the corridor before sighing in relief. Semetov copied her, though she managed to disguise it as a stifled yawn.
Then ruined the effect by muttering, 'boys.'
Mme. Bethaz laughed, "Where are you headed after this?"
"To eat and then to bed, finally. I despise portkey exhaustion."
"Touche."
"You?"
"I'm trying to decide if I should look in on my baby's godfather."
"As opposed to inviting him to look you up at his convenience?"
"Hmm, more like, most professional to notify him that I'm around, rather than seem like I might be stalking him or avoiding him."
"I suppose, good luck and diplomacy."
"Thank you. … would you like a tour as far as the kitchens before we split up?"
"Yes, very much so."
…
"Hello Trixy Lady," said a dwarf wizard in grey robes … No it was Dobby in … clothes.
"Hello Dobby," said Mme Bethaz.
Dobby frowned at her, "What is you doing here?"
"I'm here to answer questions for Fleur Delacour, Champion for Beauxbatons," said Mme Bethaz, "though perhaps … certain others will also wish to demand lessons."
He nodded, sober and suspicious. "Neville Longbottom sir has a lovey, you oughtn't be here."
Mme Bethaz shuddered, what Heir Neville Longbottom had given Bellatrix, he'd given as an adult and judge and a head of house to her as a muddled child in an thrice impossible situation. Now that she was on her feet, mentally, ethically, and economically, and he was … nominally under the protection of his parents and in the context of a school. Any further advances Assistant Duelling Mistress, Mme Bethaz, of Beauxbatons could offer to Neville Longbottom of Gryffindor would be very very uncouth.
"While I don't normally accept ethical advice from an elf, even one decades my senior, I agree with your assessment of this case. I will not attempt to renew contact with Neville."
He frowned.
"Does he have a house elf around?"
"Maybe, why?"
"Would you tell that house elf that I say that Neville and his house elf are permitted to visit Victorix, and that Neville is permitted to decide whether he wishes to do so at times when I am present, or at times when I am not. They may coordinate times with Grosyublu."
Dobby nodded, and the set of his shoulders changed. It was more difficult to read through more layers of clothing, but if she didn't miss her guess … Dobby considered Neville personally, not his house, to be an ally of his master. "Dobby will be telling her."
"Thank you," said Mme. Bethaz, "Do you know how best I could make contact with … your master or Tom Riddle?"
His eyes flashed, "Harry is not expecting you. Lord Riddle sir is killing himselfs again."
Dobby knew enough to disapprove of necromancy then? Or something else?
"Do any of the death eaters acknowledge him?" she whispered.
Dobby frowned, "Those is not Dobby's secrets, you is not Dobby's master."
"Very true," said Mme. Bethaz, "Pardon my question, I … shouldn't have asked."
"You is wanting Tom Riddle and not you-know-who?"
"Aren't they the same?"
"You-know-who cuts himself apart, Tom Riddle eats himself together, both kill too much. Both — NOT DOBBY'S SECRETS, NOT DOBBY'S MASTER!"
Mme Bethaz pulled a charmed necklace from under her robes, "which one wrote this book?"
"Tom Riddle sir, helped."
"Then I want to talk to Tom Riddle."
Dobby popped out of existence. A moment later she heard him exclaim from somewhere nearby something about "Trixy Lady!"
Something sizzled and landed behind her, she turned to see a handsome young man standing by the door, she could almost recognise him.
"Apparition in Hogwarts?" said Bellatrix.
"Like Dumbledore?" said Tom, "not precisely apparition, no. Strategically, yes I can. So could the previous headmistress, though no one ever caught her at it. So will the new headmaster, someday soon, I have no doubt."
He approached to two paces and stood still.
"Hello Bella, what are you doing here?"
"Fleur Delacour selected me, Ummah Bethazmaveth, Assistant Duelling Mistress, to be her strategy coach for the tournament."
"Congratulations," he said, "you do me proud."
"You selected Professor Snape?"
"There might be other and better professors available now, but … he is the known quantity, and knows he can't hide anything from me."
"And you have Karkaroff advising the Durmstrang champion. Who is Webster Tam and why do you have him here?"
"Webster is the cousin of Pythagoras Tam, and not at all someone I care about. Anoushka Litvak is being advised by my group's seer and is therefore likely to do the right thing without needing to consult me."
"Oh," said Mme Bethaz, "OK then, what about?" she pointed with a head tilt toward the professor at the table behind her.
Tom looked, "Probably here to offer counselling and life advice to Dietrich and/or his arms-woman, as much as she is for anything tournament related. Dietrich is here to survive and learn and thrive, not to win the contest. He'll probably win at life-in-general without nearly as much effort as the rest of us will need."
Semetov swallowed noisily, "who is your nosy, clear sighted companion, Professor Bethaz?"
"The grandson of one of her early mentors and employers," said Tom without looking up.
"As in apprenticeship?" said Semetov.
"Nothing so formal," said Tom, "though perhaps exactly that, from a relationship point of view."
Bellatrix melted inside, he knew? And was willing to acknowledge her now? Though perhaps only while also highlighting the distance in time, and adding the indirection of an additional relative.
He grinned at her. It was a warmer smile than she'd ever have expected from that face. He leaned forward and whispered, "you'll always be one of my deadly little dragonettes, dear Bella, even if you someday choose to fly away and be your own person, or house, or country."
Somewhere deep inside Mme. Bethaz, Bellatrix finally stood up straight, without it meaning defiance or rage or mocking, belittling pride. Finally Bellatrix' reality matched Mme. Bethaz professional posturing.
Tom saw other-than-the-surface again, and nodded his approval.
Bellatrix and Mme. Bethaz were very quickly becoming much more the same person. Except somehow this made Bellatrix-the-girl want to cry and curl up and Bellatrix-the-warrior want to preen or kick back with a drink and a fellow, and Mme. Bethaz the professional and mother want to relax and meditate and hug her mentor and her daughter and…
"I apologise that my shoulders are not yet that broad," said Tom, "Go hug your daughter, before I stop restraining myself and turn dragon and carry you off to my nest. I don't remember you ever mentioning a fondness for visiting dragon hoards to bask and nestle."
"What?" said Mme. Bethaz. "I don't think …" though the image registered and somehow seemed warm and huglike instead of cold and bony.
He snorted, "Go hug your daughter, Bella; I'm not your parent in any of the real senses, and only one metaphorical."
"Alright," she said, and as her eyes turned from him to the door behind him, he shrank and sizzled and was gone.
"Was he really here?" she said.
"He seemed to be," said Semetov, "Who was he again?"
Mme. Bethaz smirked, "The Hogwarts champion."
"Oh. Constantine!" said Semetov, "and … the rest haven't just conceded?"
Mme. Bethaz shrugged, "I've seen Fleur duel, I don't know if that will amount to much in this tournament, but if it does… who knows who will win. I assume that the others are also impressive enough at something, I just don't know what or how, yet."
"Now what?" said Semetov, as if mourning the destruction of her mission in life.
Mme. Bethaz shrugged, "No idea, for the moment, I think I'll just follow orders, and go feed my baby."
"Right," said Semetov.
"Relax, woman," said Mme. Bethaz, "You're here to give advice about law and magic, not to implement strategy. It's a school contest, not a war and treaty situation."
Semetov nodded and … seemed to start a breathing exercise.
Mme. Bethaz left her to it.
{End Chapter 7}
Author's note: … yet …
Muahahahahaha
In case you hadn't figured it out yet, my story differs from cannon in that, after Voldimort's first fall, Igor Karkaroff ran away before getting caught by the ministry, hence he never had the opportunity or motivation to betrayed Antonin Dolohov, Evan Rosier, Augustus Rookwood, Travers, Mulciber or Severus Snape.
portkey exhaustion = jet lag.
