Chapter Seventeen
"Ow!"
"Sorry, sorry. It's a bit crowded in here, isn't it?"
"You could say that."
The first person had just had the displeasure of having his toes trampled by a young man trying to get what looked like a fairly heavy box down the corridor and it seemed it was the young man's luck that others was pushing him aside to move quicker.
"One side, bean-counter!"
"That's Census…" the young man muttered, as he found himself shoved up against the wall in the narrow corridor. A wince escaped him as a corner of the box dug into his belly, and the first man took pity on him.
"Here, let me help you with that."
"Thanks. This box is heavy."
It took a moment but soon they had opposite ends.
"Damn. This thing is heavy."
"Toldja," the man puffed. Neither spoke for the exertion of carrying the box until they shuffled into one of the many offices in the Ministry. When the box thumped down, they heard a crack from the desk. They cringed.
"I hope Arthur doesn't notice that. Thanks for the help," the younger man said as he extended his hand. "I'm Billy Newton."
"Fionn McCartan, lad. Glad to meet ye. Call me Fionn. What's in that thing? That's a pretty damn heavy box."
"Glad to make your acquaintance, too. And I don't have a clue – the thing appeared out of thin air with what sounded like a bunch of harps."
McCartan raised his eyebrows.
"Harps? You don't say. A magical manifestation?"
"Seems so, but I haven't been able to open it. I can't go anywhere without it. Anywhere."
If his eyebrows hadn't already gotten raised, he would have done it.
"You mean…?"
"Anywhere, and believe me, it makes going to the loo a real adventure. It follows me like a puppy and jumps in my lap anytime I sit down."
Taken aback, McCartan had to ask.
"How do you handle the weight?"
A disgusted sound was his only answer. McCartan started to leave but there was a distinct whine from the box. He looked at the younger man.
"Don't ask me. I'm apparently just the caretaker."
A shrug from the older man and he turned to leave again, only to be met with a rattle from the box.
"It did the same thing to me. Maybe you're the caretaker of the thing now."
Billy Newton stepped away to the threadbare couch across the room but the reaction of the box was the same as McCartan had just found out. They traded glances.
"Um, Fionn, do you have any idea why that box would be doing that?"
"None." Looking around, he took in the office. "Arthur, you said. Arthur Weasley? I didn't think he worked in any kind of magical manifestation office. Muggles, wasn't it?"
"Yes or at least I thought so, but for some reason I was lead to come here. There was some kind of parchment – well, it was finer than regular parchment – that simply said 'Arthur Weasley.' Why, I really don't know, and when I wrote to him he didn't either. He suggested bringing the thing here and he'd meet me. Well, us now."
"Oh. I guess we wait, then."
McCartan leaned against the desk and looked down at the box. The rattling had shifted it around a bit and he could see a distinct crack on the surface of the desk. They waited and watched the minute hand of the clock meander. It seemed to them that the silence in the office just made the thing go slower and slower and slower.
"Well, where is he?"
"Maybe he stepped out for a moment. I don't know what he does all day but it's Arthur. He stays busy. You know how this place is."
A grunt answered that.
"Well, that's true. Of course, it would be our luck if he decided to take an long lunch today."
A few more minutes went by before the door opened. Arthur Weasley stepped through, an overstuffed file folder in his hand. He looked up to see the two men. Both looked back at him, one with an irritable expression that he was pretty sure wasn't directed at him and the other with an amused expression. He was fairly sure that wasn't directed at him, either.
"Oh, hello! I was going to take a long lunch break today, but remembered that I had a meeting now. Fionn, right? What brings you here? And I'm terribly sorry, but I've forgotten your name."
McCartan grinned.
"Sorry, Arthur, I'm just the hired muscle today. Billy here came to see you with a heavy box. Seems you might know a bit more than we do."
Recognition dawned.
"Oh, right! I remember now. You had the box that showed up out of nowhere." Arthur looked at the box, placidly resting on the desk. "Is this it?"
"That's it."
Arthur walked around the desk, looking at the box. He glanced at the crack and Billy winced.
"Sorry, Arthur."
"No biggie. I've been waiting for a good reason to requisition a new desk since this one was probably made a hundred years ago using the cheapest materials they had at the time. I know how you bean-counters are."
Billy sighed. "I work in Census, Arthur, not Procurement."
"Oh, sorry. You still do counting, right? What's the difference?"
Fionn started to say something, but stopped when he saw a mischievous gleam in Arthur's eye. He shook his head and didn't say anything. Frankly, if he opened his mouth he would bust out laughing at the look on the youngest face in the room. It took him a good moment but eventually he was able to pretend to take pity on poor benighted Billy.
"Aye, lad, enough of the jokes from we old men, eh? Think we can open up this demon box?"
"The word 'demon' isn't all that reassuring to me, you know," Billy muttered under his breath, but he stepped back a bit to let Arthur look at it. The older man frowned at it for a moment.
"Billy, I'm pleased you trust me enough to come to me, but I have to ask 'why me?' I don't see how the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office helps here like your message mentioned. Besides, I work in a different office now, remember?"
Arthur didn't mention that there was an office for anything. They all knew there was probably an 'Office for Naming Ministry Offices,' an 'Office for Detailing Paint Schemes,' and an 'Office of Silly Walks.' Much speculation had been had over the possible offices under the Ministry's overview.
"Not the office, per se, which I did forget you'd changed jobs. I meant you, specifically. You have an interest in Muggle puzzles, right? Aren't there puzzle boxes that the Muggles use to hide things?"
Arthur wasn't quite sure that owning various batteries and plugs had anything to do with puzzle boxes, but he could see what the younger man meant. Although after whatever this thing was got figured out, maybe he could branch out into something else. It sounded like something Fred and George would do. He grinned at the thought. Arthur was proud of his prankster sons, even if he didn't quite say that too loud around Molly or her sharp hearing.
"Well, let's see if there's a way to puzzle out how to open it, shall we?"
"Please do, Arthur. I'd really like to go to the loo without company."
The aggrieved sound in the young man's voice made Fionn nearly laugh, but he held it in. It was a near thing, and he didn't thing Billy boy would appreciate the humor all that much. For that matter, he was starting to wonder if he was going to have to put up with company too.
Arthur noticed the parchment with his name on it and picked it up. The face of the parchment morphed into some simple instructions on how to open the box, so Arthur took a moment to lay the parchment back down flat and read it. His fingertips brushed the surface of the box as he did so. The box shivered on the desk, and everyone watched as the crack grew a little longer. Arthur jerked his hand back and the box rattled more.
"Arthur, it didn't seem to like it when we got further away."
"Oh? Wonder why?"
The Weasley patriarch held his hand closer to the box and watched as it stilled. He pulled his hand away. He noticed that the box wriggled more – it actually jiggled like one of Molly's softer desserts.
"Huh. That's odd."
"Yes, I agree, but what do we do?" Fionn's voice was puzzled.
"I have no –" Arthur's voice was interrupted by a polite knock from inside.
"Did something just..."
Glances were exchanged for a moment before another polite knock was heard.
"Do we open it?"
Arthur thought quickly to Billy's question. He shrugged.
"Sure, why not. What's the worse that could happen?"
He reached for the lid and lifted it open.
-===(| - |)===-
"Lils?"
It had soon been decided that everyone needed a breather, Harry and Hermione the most. They were seriously flailing away at the task of staying awake and failing miserably. Madam Pomfrey had given them a phial of Dreamless Sleep and orders to eat something before they took it. It only took a couple of medical-grade glares before they slowly trundled off to their beds, practically holding each other up. Lily had kissed Harry good night, which made him cry again, and hugged Hermione closely for a moment before shooing them off. Professor McGonagall had quietly detailed a house elf to make sure they ate. The others watched as they walked off hand-in-hand.
In the meantime, Dumbledore had arranged for a set of Lords' Quarters to be made ready for the magically-returned couple for the evening and now they were cuddled up in the bed. Neither felt particularly romantic at the moment and both felt all kinds of confused. Lily turned to look up at James' troubled eyes.
"Do you feel like you've been hit with a Bludger, or is it just me?" he murmured.
Lily shrugged.
"I don't know what I feel like, aside from very confused."
"Me, too. Past very confused, if we're being honest."
It was quiet for a moment until she felt a tear drop onto her head.
"James?"
He held her close and sudden sobs shook his body. Alarmed, she scrambled up and hugged him to her. She wondered what was the matter, since this wasn't like James. It took a few minutes for him to weather the tempest.
"James? What is it?"
He dashed the few remaining tears from his eyes.
"I just remembered the last thing before waking up and seeing Harry and Hermione in that circle." His eyes found hers and the despair in his eyes made her own widen. "The last thing I remember is throwing a lot of spells after yelling for you to take Harry and run. That and being brutally cut apart like so much tissue paper by that snake-faced bastard. I tried my damnedest to destroy him and keep him away from the two of you. I remember thinking, 'not my family, you bastard' and slinging every nasty spell I could think of with as much power as I could."
Her fingertips flew to her lips and her own memories played in her mind. She wept, and the feeling of his strong arms around her let her release everything. Just as she'd held him, he was now holding her.
"I… I t-told him to t-take me and not H-Harry… The last thing I remember is an Avada Kedavra sailing toward me, and I couldn't stop it! I couldn't protect Harry! I tried! I stayed between that bastard and Harry and wouldn't let him get near my baby, but I failed, too!" she wailed.
James didn't say anything. He just held her close. They stayed like that for a while, until she pulled away a bit. He released her, but watched closely. Lily carefully got out of bed and went to a side table looking for the elf-conjured pitcher of water charmed to refill itself and remain cold. She poured a glass and looked at James, who declined. The room was silent as she drank from the glass.
"I don't know how I know," she said. The confusion was there. He could easily hear it, since he had his own confusion.
"How you know what?"
"How did I know that the scrawny teenager I laid eyes on a few hours ago was my baby boy of fifteen months?"
He held his arms wide open, and she put her glass down to go to him. Her sniffles started again as she felt the love in his arms settle around her. His voice was reassuring and the trembles he could feel in her smaller form settled. She could hear the certainty in her husband's voice soothing her as he spoke.
"Because there's a bond between a mother and son. You carried him from conception to birth. Because you strengthened that bond with every breath, every kiss, every feeding, every nappy change, every cuddle, every song you sang to him before and after birth – everything, Lils. Everything you did as his mother made that bond unbreakable. I'm sure of that."
He broke off for a moment, but she didn't really notice. James thought about that and continued.
"And while I don't know what exactly Hermione did with Harry in that ritual circle, I'd be more that willing to bet the Potter fortune that whatever brought us back cast around and found that 'mother's bond' you have with Harry and in turn the marriage bond we have with each other. It pulled you though whatever that was and you pulled me with you."
Her voice was tiny.
"And I need you with me."
He kissed the top of her head.
"Always, sweetheart. I'll always be here with you."
There was more silence, and Lily seemed to be calming down some more. James could see his wife's big brain starting to tick over some mental checklist or another, so he waited for her. It was something that he never got tired of seeing, assuming that he wasn't the reason it was ticking and he wasn't in trouble either for something he did or something that he didn't.
"So what do you think about this girl with Harry? The Hat called her his bonded mate. First impressions?"
"First, I don't have a clue about this bonding. Something to ask the Hat about – probably best you do that." He didn't admit why and went on quickly before she noticed. "As for her? She reminds me of you, honestly. Distinctive name, though."
"That's true. Something out of Shakespeare. It's pretty cute to watch them interact."
"Yes, I have to agree." He did, too.
"And they obviously care about each other. She didn't leave his side and looked pretty protective of him."
"A lot. It's like they were drawn together. Think they're boyfriend and girlfriend, this bonding aside?"
"It sure looked like that to me, but you know what?"
"What?"
"As comfortable as they were with each other, I think they've been together for a while whether they knew it or not."
She thought about that. A suspicious green eye rolled up to look at his hazel eyes.
"So, are you going to embarrass the snot out of them?"
"Of course."
He gave her the angelic look again. A resigned sigh was his answer.
"Of course you are. Don't do it for a while, okay? This whole thing is going to take some settling into and there's something else that the Hat told me."
The grim set to her jaw and the sudden tension in her body warned him that this wasn't going to be a fun subject.
"About Harry?"
"About Harry." Her lip quivered. "Oh, James! Our baby boy's had a hard life!"
Suddenly she dissolved into more racking sobs. James didn't know what the Hat had told her, and his own experience with the Hat had hacked the grumpy old artifact off. The Hat didn't show him what Lily had been shown.
Maybe I leaped without looking again, he thought to himself. James wiped the tears from his beloved wife's face and rocked her to calm her down. She hiccuped a time or two, but James waited, knowing that Lily wouldn't say anything until she was ready. She was so quiet for a long enough time that he started to go to sleep.
"She was right."
He managed not to jerk awake and betray that he was thisclose to visiting ol' Morpheus for a while.
"Who was right about what, Lils?"
She sniffled again but answered.
"The abuse Harry suffered. Hermione was right."
At that, his heart dropped and his face grew cold. She sounded so miserable. James quickly thought back to the declaration Hermione had made and the fire in her eyes.
"What did she say, 'starved, hurt, and without homework?' Did the Hat give you details?"
She nodded quickly, but didn't say anything. He sighed and held her closer.
"Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me who I have to hex into phoenix guano."
He kissed the top of her head again and through her tears, she told him.
"Petunia. Somehow he got sent to Petunia after… after that night. They abused him. The Hat showed me some of what they did to him, but didn't want to show me everything. He's been beaten unconscious, had his bones broken, starved to the point of malnutrition, made to work like a house-elf…" She choked and the sobs came.
"What?!"
There was moment of disbelief. James rocked Lily again, trying to keep his own tears from flowing and doing his best to be strong for her to cling to. They remained that way for a while until James felt sure that more questions could be asked.
"Lily, what about Sirius or Frank and Alice or Remus?"
"I don't know, James. The Hat didn't say or maybe didn't know. We have to find that out for ourselves."
"Well, in the morning we need to start getting some answers. That's my boy and I'll be damned to hell and back again if a Potter gets treated like that."
A jerky nod answered him.
"I'm so tired, James."
"Then we need to rest. We'll find out more later."
James was about to drop off to sleep, when he heard Lily mumble to herself.
"Huh. 'Hermione Potter…' I wonder if they knew…"
Maybe it was time to see if Harry had The Talk yet, he thought to himself with a mental yawn as he pulled his wife closer to him. For damn sure the Dursleys wouldn't have done it. That's another thing, too. They'll…
His thought was cut off as he finally dropped off into slumber.
-===(| - |)===-
Neville sat on a convenient bench in the hallway of the Hospital Wing. He'd been sitting here for a while and no one had been by to see him sitting there since they were desperately busy inside. His hands, arms, and chest was covered in Luna's drying blood and he didn't notice it. When he saw the trickle of blood, his wand had been out casting without a conscious thought. Somehow, he'd found where Luna had been hidden, broke the enchantment in a surge of power and got her to Madam Pomfrey. As he'd dashed there with her convulsing in his arms, the thought in the back of his mind was repeating over and over.
She's so light. There's hardly anything to her. She's so light. There's hardly anything to her.
The pounding of his heart matched the disjointed memory of his feet pounding the ancient stone floors as he sprinted. He only dimly remembered a silent and wandless pulse of magic racing ahead on his path, slamming the heavy doors to Pomfrey's domain open and sticking them to the walls. He absently noticed the inset windows shattering from the impact and repairing themselves as he streaked in with Luna.
The cries of pain coming from her had gotten weaker and weaker and her eyes were rolling up in her head as he put her on a bed as gently as he could. The last thing he could remember was the horrified gasp from a newly-returned Madam Pomfrey and a low moan and a rattle from Luna before the Matron hip-checked Neville out of the way. After that, he could remember the orders being barked to her assistants and not much else. Somehow, he'd wandered around until he found the bench and tumbled down on it as the adrenaline eased and he started to shake. He didn't know who or what did that to Luna or if she was alive or dead. Somehow, he needed to know that.
There was something within him that cried out to know, one way or the other.
As he sat on the bench and shook, a determined part of his mind dictated mental orders that he'd find those answers. The resolution bolstered itself with the fury of an enraged bear and his face hardened as the ursine growls echoed in his mind and magic. Neville Longbottom was going to get to the bottom of this. If anyone thought otherwise, that was just too damn bad.
Since no one else was there and no mirrors or otherwise reflective surfaces was near, no one saw the hazel gleam of hard edged power flickering to brightness in his eyes. Inside the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey worked with all her ability, under Luna's closed eyelids a soft silvery glimmer answered.
-===(| - |)===-
In the castle, there was a silence that persisted away from the Common Rooms with the great majority of students there after curfew. A few of the more adventurous rule-breakers were elsewhere instead of in their beds. There weren't many.
The few that were had been making furtive arrangements to set up some 'equipment' in a fairly far-flung classroom that looked like it hadn't been used in decades. This was fine with them, since they had been doing a little 'extra-curricular' study and found out a method to create some off-the-books libations, as they referred to it between themselves.
The only worry they had was the possibility of ghosts or portraits. They lucked out with no portraits in the general area where they were, just unmoving tapestries. A bit of Runes work took care of the ghosts, redirecting them away from the 'Libation Suite.'
It had taken a bit of stealthiness, but they managed to rustle up enough materials to build a still. There was something they found in Muggle books called 'moonshine,' which confused them since it apparently had nothing to do with the lunar cycle. There was something called 'proofs,' which caused more confusion to the more capable Arithmancy students in their group. What did a theorem have to do with this?
They shrugged. They would figure it out as they went. There had been some argument about what number to use for this 'proof,' but since there were two Ravenclaws in the group anything less than one hundred was out of the question. Since 'extra credit' was a thing with them, they decided to just round off at a hundred and fifty and quit arguing about it.
The results had been… well, not eye-opening at the first sip. Since magical flames and some charms had kept everything running as smoothly as possible while unattended during classes, it was just a matter of checking the results of the ongoing process against the books they had smuggled in. That first sip of the clear liquid nearly knocked them flat, hence the 'not eye-opening' description. In fact, everyone was wheezing with their eyes screwed shut while the fruits of their labors burned its fervid way down.
Once they recovered from that, there was some debate about how to add some flavoring. Once that was decided, then there was a rather strong argument about what flavors. This argument was a little hard for some to follow, what with the slurred words and belches that would pop up for some reason. Still, apple pie, chocolate, and some two or three flavors of toffee were the winners.
There was some disgruntlement from a couple that had been lobbying for 'pink bubblegum,' but the others shouted them down. That was quickly stricken from the record of approved flavors.
Now, after a couple of months they were ready for a trial run. The shelves had dust rings where unbreakable-charmed jars had stood in formation to be filled, but were now empty. They had sold their efforts to others for their House parties, swearing them to secrecy. The little taster bottles they had taken with them had assured them of the others' various silences. Strangely, the Hufflepuffs had made the suggestions of banana and coconut flavors for their product. That was duly noted.
Most of the group was there. Three of their number was away in evening detentions due to some misdirection needed for their little side project. Nobody bothered with minutes for their meetings, of course.
"Hey, Jim, what happened to the stir stick?"
"The last I knew, it was over in that corner."
"It's not there now."
"Well, look around. Maybe somebody moved it when we sold our run."
There was a few moments of silence. Jim went back to looking over the group's order sheets. Apparently the test tastes had made this Muggle moonshine become popular. There was a soft thump in one of the other rooms, which was ignored just then. One of the girls looked up.
"Jim, didn't you hear that?"
"What?"
"That noise. It sounded like a thump. Didn't Leo go that way?"
Jim huffed in irritation. He hated being interrupted when he was busy doing something.
"He might have knocked something over. It wouldn't be the first time. He's not the most graceful, you know."
"That's true. He'd fall out of his own casket at his funeral."
Jim grimaced at the mental image, but it was true enough if the rolled eyes of the others were any indication. The girl fidgeted for a moment before speaking.
"Maybe I should check on him."
"Yeah, go ahead, Kristen. You just want to snog him."
The volunteer stepped out and Jim went back to his counting. A muffled scream broke his concentration and he dropped the book to run toward the scream. The other student remaining with him followed.
They collided at the doorway with the screaming girl. When they got up, trying to decipher the babbles coming from her, it was soon apparent what happened.
Leo lay in the oversized fermenter barrel as though he was enjoying a dip in a hot tub. However, there was no conceivable way he was relaxing. The missing stir stick was missing no longer, since they could see it rammed down his throat all the way to the tines. His arms floated in the mash as they followed the waves imparted by the circulating heat. Thick drops of blood punctuated the gently foaming surface of the pale yellow mash and some of the ghastly mixture trickled ever-so-slowly down the outside edges of the barrel. Leo's eyes were wide in unseeing terror.
As they looked on in horror, they heard the door behind them slam shut. The wall sconces extinguished themselves and nothing they did would relight them. Before someone could remember to cast a lumos, a flaming whipcord shattered every wand they carried. A malevolent face could be seen grinning at them in the flickers of light the cord gave off. Screams bounced off the walls after that.
Outside the Libations Suite, classes proceeded apace without any knowledge of what was happening. Professors asked questions and students gave answers. Lectures and practical classwork continued without the faintest of clues giving away anything that revealed what was occurring in those rooms. Far away, a pale hand caressed a glimmering carving of a snake and a nose-less face smiled. Things were proceeding as planned.