Leonas in captivity
Content warnings: see title.
They landed on yet another cool masonry surface. There were low moans at some distance. The darkness was not absolute, but close enough. Susan sat up, clicked her tongue several times, then hissed, "We seem to be alone. It was just a body-bind in the portkey. Can you do a wand-less finisher?"
After several tries Leona managed that without also ending the Leona transfiguration. She sat up and looked around. "No wand-light!" hissed Susan, then found Leona's elbow, then tapped Leona's forehead, whispering, "memento quae tetigit et audivimus, Ecce!"
Leona found herself, the brick paved floor, and Susan illuminated, as if in daylight, though the colours were somewhat washed out, and most everything else still in darkness. There was a great shadow in the direction of Luna.
Susan seemed to correctly have interpreted Leona's gasp, "Glad that took, get Luna up and I'll teach her also."
They turned to Luna, Leona freed her from the body-bind, Susan passed on her semblance of sight.
"Are you ready," whispered Susan, "I'm going to snap my fingers low, and then high, then left and then right, keep quiet and pay as much attention as you know how."
As she spoke the over-bright floor had been dimming in the distance. Each time she snapped the nearest bank of shadowy fog coalesced a little more until it seemed more of a thin screen between huge gaps of empty space.
Given that they ought to be in a cage made of probably metal and that whatever this spell effect seemed to be, didn't pay any attention to whether Leona's eyes were open or closed, it ought to be some kind of spell readout, projected into her imagination, and if she tried to impute her own interpretation of … The near fog bank resolved into glinting bars, which slid sideways a bit and up a bit, and then resolved and were solid, and a fraction of a second later were rusty black iron instead of glinting.
That last transition had taken some magic to accomplish.
"So it's touch and SONAR and something similar with magic also?"
"What's SONAR?"
"How muggle boats see each other through the water, with sound instead of light."
"Yes, that part of the arithmancy is from blind people and merfolk, the part where it decides what colour to paint is from tracking charms. You've gotten it to do one already?"
"Yes."
Luna was moaning and holding the top of her head.
"The illusion of daylight will wear off in a few minutes, and the headache should fade a few minutes after," said Susan, "take it easy, try to just observe what it is showing you, and how you can help it, not force it to work, it either will or it won't."
"Alright," sighed Luna, and stood up, and looked around. Then went to the bars and slid her hands across them while walking the perimeter of their cell.
Cage, thought Leona, birds are kept in cages.
Leona decided to get up and copy Luna's observations.
Susan followed her, though each time she reached a corner or the centre of a side, she extended her arm as far as she could through the bars and snapped her fingers again.
Sometimes the bars of neighbouring cages resolved.
This place wasn't laid out like a prison, with cells built one against another, to save resources by making as many walls as possible do double duty.
This was a show room, a collection.
"I think we are souvenirs of hunting," said Leona.
"Probably we're also the audience of the museum that we're trapped in," said Susan.
"Zoo of pets," said Luna.
They finished their circuit and met at the last corner, "Now what?" said Leona.
"I'm thinking, Wait half an hour, if we're still alone, consider conjuring new snuggle nesting material." suggested Susan.
"And bath facilities," whispered Leona, "not sure what we ought consider normal."
"Nothing at all, but keep demanding to be let out to hunt?" suggested Luna, "Or … dig a hole in the floor as soon as we're sure that we've already conjured everything we want and can pretend we know nothing about any of it?"
"There are some complex enchantments around," whispered Susan, "I wouldn't be surprised if they eliminate some of the common dangers normally associated with caging monkeys, including: flinging poo."
"I hope so," said Leona.
.
"Speaking of enchantments," whispered Luna, "May I borrow your knife?"
"My bag is at the last place," said Leona.
"Conjure one, " said Luna, "just want to scratch some runes of moonlight on our bars."
"Subtle, " said Susan, "I like it."
Leona conjured a steel engraving rod and for good measure a diamond tipped one as well.
Luna set to work.
"Can you add runes of obscurity to make it not look like glowing runes?" said Susan.
"I usually use runes of frost lens-ing," said Luna, "It doesn't look properly like moonlight otherwise."
"Oh," said Susan, "Good." she turned to Leona.
"What?"
"Trying to figure out if I can 'fancy' cow hide without drawing my 'feather'," said Susan.
"How often would our dad hunt cows," said Luna, "squirrels and rabbits are more likely."
"Birds and marmots too," said Leona, "He's got a family of five to feed."
"And clothe," muttered Susan, "Yeah, makes sense we'd preferentially use cow leather for clothes, when it's available and anything else handy the rest of the time."
"Except he wouldn't keep those skins for nesting. The down though maybe."
.
Eventually, Susan turned her wand around in her holster and started conjuring rabbit skins. Leona examined one for long enough to duplicate it. By that time Susan had grown bored with grey brown and was mixing in white furred skins, also Weasley red and ravenclaw blue.
"Do fancy rabbits actually come in these colours?" said Leona.
"Why would we imagine they wouldn't, probably they do in other places," defended Susan.
"They do, but it depends on how fancy," said Luna.
"Oh," said Leona. She reversed her wands also and conjured a few that were a demented calico pattern of red and blue and brown spots. Some just spots, like spotted dogs or calico cats, but a few with rosettes.
"Merlin," said Susan, "I almost believe those are from real animals."
"Do veela swear by Circe instead?" said Leona, "or by someone South American."
"No," said Luna, "Mostly Beauxbatons graduates swear by Circe."
"Oh."
"My veela exclaimed, 'az vyarvam!' sometimes, but I didn't teach him to."
"If we've been to Hogs…forde, sometimes but not usually," said Susan, "we can say whatever we want."
"Or we could just make bird noises or pig noises," said Luna.
.
"Finished," said Luna, and activated her rune chain, not with a wand tap, but with a kiss. The horizontal bar around their cage closest to chest height began to glow palely.
Leona made up her mind to revise runes with Luna more often, there was apparently lots to catch up on.
It was finally light enough to see into neighbouring cages. One of the nearest was smaller than the rest, and contained a mound of fur with a very familiar pattern.
"Nim," whispered Leona and went as close as the bars of her own cage would let her.
"Don't do anything that will raise alarms."
"Why not?" questioned Leona.
"The longer we wait without raising alarms, the more chance we'll be rescued before we have to really face our captors."
Leona turned and stared at her, "But I'm not civilised enough to know that escaping will be punished, also I'm too cowed and confused by adults in general to imagine escaping, I just want to snuggle or eat a familiar looking animal."
Susan gaped, then shrugged, "Yes, those aurors really didn't feed us enough for active, growing, feral veela."
"Precisely," said Leona, then muttered under her breath, "Wingardium leviosa, Accio cat cage."
When the cat cage arrived, Leona hovered it in place against the bars of their own cage with one wand and used the other to transfiguration-weld them together, and then used shaping techniques on each bar to make it seem she'd transfigured both into tissue then cast 'accio cat!' instead of the rather more deliberate and delicate procedure she had used. Then she reached through the twisted mess and lifted Nim into her arms.
Nim was very lite and thin, her heart still beat, but so very rarely that it was almost hard to believe.
Leona cradled her close and returned to the centre of the pile of conjured 'rabbit' skins, and crouched.
"Can you tell what they did to her?" said Susan.
"Besides starve her?" said Leona.
"Yes, besides that?" said Susan.
"Not right now," said Leona, "too many tears."
"Then I'll start by telling you that they took off her front left arm at the shoulder, ripped it off by the look."
Leona made a noise that at first she did not recognise as her own. When she did, she tried to quiet herself. It took several breaths to be completely silent again.
Susan and Luna were stroking her shoulders and arms.
"I'm … more alright now, thank you," said Leona, "they took off her thrall mark, that's when she didn't have easy access to my magic to be my familiar from farther away than is normally possible."
"So, can you mark her again?"
"I think, if she transformed, if she was awake, I wouldn't need to. And I can't make a true thrall mark without her awake and participating. In theory I could tattoo one, but I'm not sure that would be effective."
"Can you just cut without the ink?" said Susan.
"Can you just shave your mark into her hair?" said Luna.
They stared at her.
"I have to engrave a little farther than just her hair," said Leona, "But I don't have to go far enough to draw blood."
They agreed she should try.
"I've wanted to move her mark to her chest for a while," said Leona, "I'd bet this helps that happen."
"Not that you can shave that small," said Susan.
"I can try," said Leona.
"Don't go too small for you to draw it clearly enough to see it and activate it."
"Right," said Leona, "Gather round and obscure what I'm doing."
She moved her wand to her hand for more precise aim, and cast the shaving charm as small and as precise as she could, and dragged it through the now very familiar rune.
"With this mark," she whispered, "I claim and reclaim Nim as my own. Mine to protect, mine to help, mine to command. Mine to keep."
The magic flowed and Nim's magic seemed to by degrees to increase rather than decrease, it might take an hour or three to return to normal, if it could get anywhere close to normal with constant healing to do. Her pulse quickened a little. But she did not wake.
.
There was shouting a door clattered open letting in a flood of wandlight, then thudded shut, making the whole chamber reverberate.
"Give her to me, you go act." said Luna and sat beside Leona. Leona passed Nim to her, patted her head twice more for good measure. And stood.
The wandlight had rushed closer accompanied by footsteps. Somehow the echo of footsteps revealed more of the cages in that area than the wand light did. And yet, did not reveal the runner at all.
"Who the bloody fool are you all?" she shouted.
"We are Leona," Susan said to the woman, then turned to Leona, "Another black fancy."
"That is what the other black fancies told us to expect," agreed Leona.
"What's a black fancy?"
Susan reached through the bars and pointed at the wand, "Fancy light, fancy feather," she pointed to the woman wielding it, "a fancy person, wears black, a black fancy. Red fancies are strange and scary and mean, black fancies, just very very strange."
"Oh," said the woman, "muggleborns, just more feral than usual."
"Mum is muggleborns, sold to gypsies, stolen by veela daddy," said Leona, "we are Leona. Is it time for hunting yet? It feels like night."
"What?" she said.
"Eating," said Susan, "then peeing, then snuggle, night time" she accompanied each phrase with a motion.
"Merlin, do neither of you have anything on?"
"What?" said Susan.
The woman glanced between them, "who sent you here?"
"Fancy string?" said Susan and dove back into the nest, flinging rabbit furs everywhere and came back with the portkey shoelace.
"Here is the fancy string," said Susan.
But the woman was gibbering in shock at the pile of impossibly coloured furs.
"What are those?" she said.
"Rabbit furs," said Leona, "nest."
"Right, of course," she muttered gently, "Where did they come from?"
"We prayed for them," said Leona, "we were cold."
"Well no wonder you were cold," said the woman, "I'll just go get two plates of mash, you good with that?"
"Which is 'plates'?" said Susan soto voice.
"Other place thing," said Leona, "tile or clear tile things, or metal, people carry food on them, at Hogsforde plates are silver. Heavy."
"Hogsforde?" said the woman aghast, "What …"
"Hogsforde is city," said Leona, "Other place, books, fancy books."
"Now I see why you're here," she said, "riddles above my station, you're a puzzle for Rookwood no doubt about that."
Leona pretended to ignore that, and closed her eyes and continued happily remembering, "enough food."
Susan gasped and her stomach rumbled.
The woman snorted, "well my mash won't compete with Hogwarts food, no bones about that."
"What Hogwarts?" said Susan, after just the wrong interval, "Sounds sick?"
"No bones?" said Leona, then stepped all the way to the bars and glared as if trying to be intimidating, "big enough to chew bones out by myself!"
The woman laughed, "Never fear, there's not much meat in my mash, either." She turned and made her way back where she had come, taking her light with her.
.
"You didn't tell her three," said Luna.
"No," said Leona, "But I'm planning on it."
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Susan.
"It's alright," said Leona, "you played your part well."
Susan stared at her, "You don't get to accept apologies on behalf of someone other than yourself."
Luna huffed, "Please don't fight."
"No, no intent to fight," said Leona, "But Susan needs to understand."
Susan crossed her arms, "Understand what?"
"That Luna is hiding," said Leona, "You know how she's hiding, you can do it too, but for you it is a repeatable and continuous active choice, for her it was a single decision that she has not yet changed."
Susan sighed, "and how does that give you the right to accept apologies on her behalf.'
"Reject apologies." said Leona, "because you tried to take a responsibility that is already mine."
Susan crossed her arms, then smiled and shook her head, "no, you big daft love-able lump, I'm trying to uphold a responsibility that you specifically offered to share with the rest of Lion's-Keep.
Leona didn't have the right words to contradict that.
"A gryffindor hierarchy is not the only way to accomplish things," said Susan, "a hufflepuff collective can manage most things equally well, there's only the questions of the coordination style of the people involved."
"I understand," said Leona, "and I respect that, but my promises are not optional to me, only how you choose to help meet them, if you even choose to help meet them."
"Apologising for not accomplishing my maximum share of the groups tasks," said Susan, "is part of the hufflepuff collective coordination scheme."
"Are you sure that me complimenting your choice in the trade off between group survival and the temporary convenience of Luna's stomach, is not also part of both the hufflepuff collective coordination style, and the gryffindor hierarchy of responsibility style."
Susan huffed again, then nodded, "I'd have used the word 'verify' rather than 'compliment' for the gryffindor style. But yes, it was properly your place to reassure me about, but you could have made it sound like reassurance or compliment, instead of like rejecting an apology that wasn't even directed at you."
Leona sighed, "Alright, you're probably right. I'm sorry."
Susan nodded.
Leona looked at Luna, "We're done fighting, are you alright now? I intend to give you my plate anyway, I'm not all that used to eating supper anyway."
"Neither am I," said Luna, "we can share it, but … I do want breakfast."
"Agreed," said Leona, "Though I mildly hope not to be here that long."
Susan turned to stare, "What? If you have a way out, what exactly are you waiting for?"
"Nim's magic to stabilise, and perhaps a little more intelligence."
.
The woman came back with two plates of food and handed them through the only pair of bars built wide enough for that.
Leona accepted one and handed it to Susan then took the other to Luna, and returned to the bars. The woman still stood by, perhaps waiting for them to finish.
"Is there one for me?" Leona said plaintively.
The woman gave a start and looked around to assess the rest of the cage, "Where did you hide it? Under those skins?"
"I gave it to the other Leona," said Leona, "she's hiding."
"What?"
Luna's foot moved under the rabbit skins causing them to shift.
"How many of you are in there?"
"Three," said Leona and Susan together.
"Drugged," said Luna, "for alertness and hopelessness, I suggest we take turns not eating."
Susan opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, but she ate more slowly. "Disillusionment?" said the woman, "we'll see about that, Homenum Revelio."
A pulse of magic left her wand and spread outward sparks hovering briefly over each of them, but around Luna they seemed to only hover, not settle and fade.
Leona felt the draw on her magic and pushed more through.
The woman tensed as if doing the same.
Leona doubled again, and the sparks flew outward and dissipated.
"Someone's hiding alright," said the woman, "Just needs something a bit stronger to counter. Finite Incantatem."
Her aim was fairly accurate, but the invisibility wasn't a spell effect, and she had no authority over Harry's mark.
"Humph, worth a try," she said, stalked around their cage until she got to the remains of Nim's cage and tried to budge it. "What happened here?"
"Thought it was a marmot," said Leona, "Tried to get it. But it was only a cat. A starved cat with a leg missing. Nothing to eat."
"Yes, well, where is it now?"
"The hiding one is holding it," said Leona.
"Humph," she said, tried to budge the suspended cage again, then wandered away.
"Is she coming back?" said Luna.
"Don't know," said Leona, "keep eating, if she does we'll decide who eats what, if she doesn't I'll just take the first turn at staying clear headed. Unless you mean the kind of hopelessness likely to cause nightmares, in which case, stop eating if you prefer, and we'll concentrate on escaping a bit more aggressively."
"It's really not that good," said Susan, "you can have the rest of mine if you want it."
"Don't worry about it, your elves fed us well, complaints about red fancies aside."
Susan snickered.
They left their half finished plates by the slot for them and curled up together.
.
Leona woke to Susan shifting violently. Except for the violence of the motion, everything seemed to be right with the world. Until she opened her eyes and found several beams of wand-light pointing down at them.
Susan's assessment was out before Leona could convince her eyes to focus into the glare. "Food woman, the black fancy that found us, a fancy with snake skin, someone with clothes so unspeakably fancy that I cannot see through them or smell them."
Leona looked away from the bright light at Susan, caught the meaningful look, and realised that meant 'the weird-dressed one is an Unspeakable.'
She also caught that Susan was remaining seated, and her holster was drawing maximum power. Invisible. She was acting on her own for now.
She stood and went to the bars nearest the crowd.
Their guard didn't seem to care, Their captor and the dark lord conversed in low tones. It was the unspeakable who seemed intent on interacting with them.
Only their captor seemed the least bit flustered by her obvious lack of knickers.
So much for weaponizing that.
"Are you Rookwood?"
The whole crowd tensed.
"Who wants to know?" said the hollow voice of the being in the clothes even more anonymising than standard death eater regalia.
"We are Leona," said Leona, "and we don't actually care about names, we just wonder if you are the Riddle Solver that must talk to us?"
"Yes, I am the Riddle Solver," said the unspeakable, "and you may call me Rookwood, if it sets your mind at ease."
Leona smiled kindly, "I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for."
"I don't like riddles," said Leona, "I wouldn't like to have your chores."
The dark lord stiffened yet again.
Oh yes, Tom's last name. Which he didn't like, which reminds me … What was his mother's name again?
"Thank you for your consideration," said the unspeakable who might or might not really be called Rookwood.
"Now that we've completely botched the introductions and the small talk, perhaps we should move on, accio."
Leona's arm flew between the bars until her torso was brought up short against the bars of the cage, stopping her hand an inch from Rookwood's wand.
He drew a knife along one of her fingertips and caught some of the blood in a runic device that looked manufactured and meant for handling chemicals.
Be Leona! She re-transfigured herself whole. Mine! Leona closed her fist and all the blood outside her smoked and turned black.
Rookwood glared at her, then assessed the state of his device.
"Male," he said, "Pure Human, no veela, hints of several prominent pureblood families, but not enough time to begin to track down where his guardians stole him from."
"Not that they'd want him back in his present state," said Riddle.
"Greyback would take them," muttered their captor, "hell, I might take them one at a time, three is a bit much, especially if two like to be invisible."
"Only hide when they're frightened," shrugged Leona, "Just don't frighten them."
"Greyback is on his way, but we can go on without him for the present," said Riddle.
"Do you want me to try the test again? I might need to get a bit more rough."
"You may get rough," said Riddle, "don't damage the mind until we have all it's secrets."
Rookwood grunted and cut Leona's palm. The blood flowed faster. Leona healed herself again, and realised that she was going through extra trouble to make it a wand-tap spell, and then trigger it differently because she wasn't taking the wand from her holster, when she could just change it the way the animagus transformation was changed, to make it an in-contact wandless spell, and farther to make it a self transfiguration. It should be as easy as —
"It's not a healing spell," said Rookwood, "it's a bloody prostitute transfiguration."
The crowd gaped.
"Finite."
The blood flowed from her palm again.
Leona growled and got ready to recast.
"Finite," he said again.
The cut on her finger barely reformed before she thought through her new version of Be Leona.
"How many injuries are still there?" said Rookwood, "Buried just under the surface?"
"Usually only try to heal at night," said Leona, "not good to get dirt and blood in cuts while hunting."
"Humph," said Rookwood, "and how many layers of incomplete healing are there?"
Leona shrugged.
"Would it kill you if I removed them all at once?"
Leona trembled, then nodded.
"Good to know," he whispered, "we'll discuss getting you to a proper healer, when you've earned it."
"Earning is for feathers, and for extra meat," said Leona, "not for healing."
"You want a wand?" said Rookwood.
"Not from you," scoffed Leona, "Want dad back."
"Ah," said Rookwood, "well we cannot find him, without your help."
"Am good hunter," agreed Leona, "let us out."
"No," said Rookwood, "we want you to answer some questions, so we can figure out where your dad is, and where the … red fancies put him."
Leona narrowed her eyes, well that answered the question about how much sharing of notes had happened before they came down to talk.
Leona shrugged, "not good at riddles, tell me questions anyway?"
"Right," said Rookwood, "Can you do magic without a wand?"
"Fancy?" said Leona thoughtfully, then nodded, "Lion," said Leona tapping her chest, and pointed to each of the others, "Hiding & monkey, hiding & dog."
He didn't move.
"Lion is hard fancy."
"And one of you can conjure 'rabbit' skins."
Leona shrugged, "just prayed Circe for them."
"Transfiguration and conjuration connection again," said Rookwood, "what else can you pray to Circe for?"
Leona shrugged, "maybe … only … things other Leonas need, Circe doesn't like selfish."
"Ah," said Rookwood, "Is that how all the accidental magic with only light and blue alignments are maintained."
Leona blinked at him, it seemed an interesting new rule for the game they were playing.
"I'm going to cancel your temporary healing charm," said Rookwood, "I'm going to take another blood sample, and then I'm going to heal your hand properly, if you don't let me, I'm going to make you wish you obeyed."
"Say simple," said Leona.
"Don't heal yourself, don't burn your blood, I will heal you."
"No," said Leona and burned the blood that was already on the floor.
"Crucio."
Leona screamed and writhed for only a second before she disassociated, the body was fake, the personality was fake, only Harry's mind existed and he wasn't necessarily present. The pain wasn't real, and worrying about it was only a conditioned response, almost as easy to throw off as the imperious. Easier to resist than the compulsion of true hunger.
She stood upright and glared, then held the bars in one hand and yanked her arm back inside, "NO!" she shouted, "Nimrod only."
Rookwood gave a start and dropped the spell, "What?"
"That game is only for my Uncle, Lord Nimrod Black. Not for you."
"And who is your Uncle Nimrod Black?"
"Bought me from Aunt Merope Tammy Gant," she nodded toward Voldemort, "Last time you killed all the rest of Leona, and gave up on me."
"And how did the cruciatus game go?" asked Rookwood.
"We ignore each other," said Leona, "I hunt in his fields in summer and his green people feed me in winter, but when either of us is … lonely we hunt each other down, and fight with only cruci until … until …" Leona writhed a little, "pig noises."
Their captor chuckled.
"What?" said Rookwood.
"She said she was a concubine," said the man, "With cruciatus for foreplay."
Rookwood turned back, "is that right?"
"Yes," sighed Leona fondly, "my Nim, Lord Black."
This is a rather complimentary fantasy you're painting around me, Thought Nim.
Nim! It's good to have you back.
It's good to have you back as well, but I might have preferred it not to be in the middle of a Dark Lord's souvenir zoo.
Yes, well, we'll figure something out.
I'm intrigued and interested to see how what you've already planned plays out.
Right?
I have a few alterations: …
Fine.
"I find myself at something of a loss," said Rookwood, "does anyone else want to take over while I plan out another foray?"
Voldemort stepped forward, "Who is Merope Tammy Gaunt."
"Sometimes no one, sometimes too busy to find us, but when we do meet, usually our Aunt," said Leona, "sometimes from helping them tame and feed Mum after Dad dies, sometimes we don't meet until Hogsforde. Sometimes you are provost, sometimes professor of grey, but usually you are our professor of Blue, the first time you held us and snuggled us and taught us to read, with Beadle and Arachne."
"Hmm," rumbled the dark lord.
"And taught us to say 'snuggle' instead of 'nest,' to keep the other children from laughing at us and kicking us."
"Am I ever not your Aunt, or is it destiny that we meet?"
"Usually we starve in the woods before we meet anyone fancy besides each other and Mum and Dad," said Leona.
"Not a good sample selection," said Rookwood.
"Sometimes you're a Lady of Evening."
The captor man guffawed.
Leona held out her left hand and cocked back her wrist so she could cast a silencing spell, without hitting her own hand. But Mr. Riddle was faster with a "Crucio," over his shoulder.
Leona put her arm down and turned away embarrassed, "I said 'Lady of Evening', not 'woman of a night,'"
"What's the difference," said the guard woman.
"Lady of Evening would mean the same as Dark Lady," said Tom, "but handed down to modern English by a different tree of dialects."
"Oh," said the guard.
"Same as Lord of Evening," said Rookwood, "Originated before the Statute of Secrecy. They are political titles for mages embedded in the muggle command structure for military or strategic reasons, such as interfacing with other mages or directly for calling down magic in war.
"As they have reasonably better odds of surviving battle, they had a way of ending up towards the top of the command structure, hence the connotation of 'general' or 'warlord' without that ever being an intended part of the meaning.
Leona nodded and continued watching Riddle, "Sometimes you're hero for saving Britain from needing to pay tribute to Grindelwald's Europe. Sometimes you're just a politician with no time for any Leonas. Sometimes, when we're lots older than this before anyone fancy notices, we get sent to." Leona waved at Rookwood, "Riddle Solvers usually talk nicer."
"I said I would heal you," said Rookwood, "I verified effect before I removed all your transfigurations."
"You didn't ask nice to buy my blood."
"I had the dark lord's permission, I didn't need yours."
Leona narrowed her eyes, "Leona aren't Mr. Gant's pet, Mr. Gant doesn't have permission to give."
"It's pronounced Gaunt," said Riddle, "And it is not my name."
Leona only spared him a glance, "Mr. Riddle then."
"This Mr. Riddle isn't our Uncle yet," said Leona, "He hasn't taught us anything, he hasn't taken us hunting, he hasn't shared his meat, he hasn't smiled at us, he hasn't snuggled us, he hasn't given us people names, we are not his, and he has no permission to give you about us."
"You are in one of my cages," said Riddle, "It was an easy mistake to make."
Leona turned and stared at Nim's cage.
There was silence.
"You think this is a cage?" said Leona.
"What did you think it was," said Riddle.
"… Bad art?" said Leona, "bed posts that were trying to be a room instead."
Riddle laughed.
Leona tapped her bare foot on brick paving, "forgot mats and blankets." She shrugged, "Curtains are better," said Leona, "could they be quilted, I like quilted?"
"Not tonight," said Riddle.
"Why didn't you leave?" said Rookwood.
"Go where?" said Leona, "No adults will take us hunting, none will even tell us where we're allowed to hunt, and the food they shared is made of grass. Barely counts for neighbour-meeting, not for friends or family."
I'll take you hunting.
I'd like that, do you have somewhere in mind?
Shrieking shack? Potter manor? Lovegood farm? I take it Bones estates are compromised at the moment.
Yes. Probably Shrieking shack first, then bounce to one of the other two.
That works for me, I'll have to transform, or be transformed and borrow a wand.
"Greyback will be here soon," said Riddle, "he'll know where there's room for three additional hunters."
"Lord Greyback is in this place?"
"Lord?" said Riddle, "He's not a Lord here, but yes I know someone by the name of Greyback."
"Is he … hero of wolves and defender of creature rights?"
"Some say so?"
"Because he bit Lord Lupin's wife and she made him recant and suicide?"
"No," said Riddle, "he bit Lupin's son."
Leona shook her head, "bad, bad way, never works."
"Ah," said Riddle, "And how should I go about saving England?"
"Best is control Hogsforde curriculum and change teachers, next best is one or the other, next is talk in Merlin's hall a lot, change laws. Granger's law about no employment or promotion forms allowed to ask about blood status, creature inheritance, gender, or ethnicity, only national loyalty, exam results, and years experience since. Bones' corporate transparency act, about ownership and control, and taxes on interest. Davis regularisation of cross-statute finance reform. Black bill on regulation and control of the cross-statute potions and drug supply chain. The Weasley-Riddle bill to regularise the importation and rescue of muggleborn orphans. A Britain with all of them could become very rich in only a few years. Next best is without law changes, to only convince red and grey fancies to rescue poor and state from pureblood corruption, and everyone from corporate corruption, and everyone and corporates from state corruption."
"How?"
"Can be the biggest bully, and still not bully anyone," said Leona, "can be the biggest tattle instead of the blackmail king, let the people and their money be the biggest bully for you."
Riddle laughed, "Extreme press reform, with extreme prejudice."
"Without prejudice?" said Leona.
Riddle waved that away, "not about bias, it's a military term for a particular kind of haste."
"Oh."
Riddle turned to Rookwood, "we'll see what Greyback makes of them, find out if they hunt like children, or veela, or like immortals in children's bodies. I'll make sure he understands that you're to have full access to them during their times of rest."
"I'm already here," rumbled a huge man and stepped from the shadows.
Leona stared, "stronger and wolfer than where he stayed busy glaring and growling at purples in Merlin's hall."
"Translation?"
"You look healthier than in other lifetimes where you were a controller in the Wizengamot."
"She likes my looks does she?" Greyback came very close to the bars of the cage.
Leona backed away a pace.
"Hero of creature rights," she whispered.
"You're a fan?" he said.
"She says you ought to have bit Lupin's wife instead of his child."
Greyback shrugged, "chance of who was in the house at the time we found our way through the wards."
Leona thought she smelled something and sniffed harder, earth and plants. lots of plants, also blood.
"You're a real hunter here," she whispered.
"I am," he agreed, "I hear you wish to go hunting with me."
She flinched and looked away, "Not allowed to hunt with you, am property of Lord Nimrod Black."
"Since when," said Rookwood.
"Leftover compulsion from another life," suggested Riddle, "sounds like a compulsion a jealous and paranoid owner would put on a feral child kept for a concubine, if Greyback was known to visit."
"Wasn't a child there," said Leona, "Greyback there didn't hunt on milord's land. He wasn't interesting to me then. He only visited about helping Milord with votes."
"You still call him your lord?" said Greyback.
Leona stared at him, "Why not?"
"He's not here?" said Greyback, "Perhaps you'd prefer a master who is here?"
Leona narrowed her eyes. Then turned her back to him and went to the nest and came back with Nim, drawing back just enough of her magic to stop the hiding from working, still offering enough power for Nim to continue to heal.
"Here is Lord Nimrod Black, My Cruci." said Leona proudly, then sadly, "Most of him, want him back together please."
"What the blood is that?" said Greyback.
"Potter's familiar," said Riddle, "was a useful ingredient in a most convenient resurrection ritual, you may do what you like with the rest if you find it a convenient way to gain her favour."
Greyback reached through the bars to tug gently on the skin on her rump, calculating how loose the skin was, how far gone she was.
Greyback met her eyes, and they were human, concerned.
'He likes children in all the wrong ways,' was the persistent rumour about him.
He likes turning weak things into strong things that worship him Stockholm style, or bow to him for being even stronger than they are, was her own assessment.
She could play into that, if she chose.
She smiled a little, tentatively.
His concern went from a shared consideration for the injury and starvation of a weak thing to an assessment of her desire for his help.
"I can hunt for myself," she said, "I don't need you to share your food, I just need you to show me where I'm allowed to hunt, they say you're in charge of that."
He nodded, disappointment, loss of interest.
"I cannot heal Nimrod, by myself," she whinged, "I think they can," she waved a petulant nod at Riddle and Rookwood, "but they won't, Riddle won't because I'm not good enough at talking to explain how you and he made laws in the other place, Rookwood is angry because I won't let him take my blood and decide which purebloods to blackmail about that I exist and got stolen. Will you help Nimrod for me? Or will you make them help? Or …" she trailed off with a shrug, and then a, "please?"
His eyes danced, he knew she was flirting, was amused by her, and too defiant to let her win for only a 'please'.
Leona bit her lip, and looked down.
"I have a shirt," she said, she hugged Nim close.
"You'd give everything to buy healing for your cat," said Greyback, "but all you have is a shirt, a cat, and two sisters?"
Leona looked up and growled, "I cannot give my sisters," said Leona, "and I only offer Nim for long enough to be healed."
Greyback nodded, "and I don't want your shirt."
Leona nodded and looked down again.
"I want you to obey me in all things and call me 'milord,'"
Leona looked up, "Only for a month, and before that you promise never to wolf me or my sisters."
"You cannot call him milord and keep your title independent of his control," said Susan, "Why do you think I haven't accepted your mark?"
Leona nodded.
Greyback shook his head, "three months, you stay with me, you call me milord, and you give me the child, for me to 'wolf' or not as I see fit."
Leona nodded.
"That's what you want?"
"I think," said Leona, then turned to the other two, "am I forgetting to ask for anything?"
"You should ask for no wolf scars, not just no scars capable of infecting you," said Luna, "would you really give him control over you, you won't give me control over you?"
"I would do much more than concubine for a three month period to buy the life and health of any of my sisters," said Leona, "And anyway, then we have Nimrod back again, in this place I mean."
"If you do this," said Susan, "you'll lose all your marks."
"Purebloods have breed contracts all the time," said Leona.
"Yes, but never involving the sitting head of the house in a position of subservience. Only the heir, or a sitting head willing to abdicate could do such a thing, and you don't have an heir to pass your house on to before you accept."
Harry! Nim came all the way into his mind to yell even louder.
What Nim.
You're out of practice listening to me.
Sorry.
It's sweet and touching that you'd sacrifice so much for me.
Sex with a hunk like him might not be such a sacrifice.
Not the sex, losing a year of school, your education would be in shambles, and you're in a hurry to take over the judicial system and right the wrongs that are giving Riddle popularity to merely preach and complain about.
Right.
So you don't have time to waste playing veela in love with a werewolf.
Agreed, but I need you alive.
You don't need me alive, you want me alive, and I agree that I am valuable, but not that valuable.
If I don't keep my promise to you as best I can, what good is my promise to the others?
If you had to, you'd need to sacrifice one of us to protect the maximum number of the rest. And pulling Riddle's teeth is your best route to protecting your muggleborns.
Maybe.
Luckily you don't need to make this choice now, you need to turn me into a Leona and hand me a wand so I can apparate you out of here.
You can do three at once?
I can if you can get the combination to the anti-apparition wards from Rookwood.
How?
Claim his mark, and then look him in the eye where I can reach through.
Oh, is that all? I cannot see his eyes, and there's something weird about what his robes show of his hands, I'm not even sure that being is male, let alone human.
Rookwood is human, and the robes covering his mark is to our advantage.
Alright, how do I claim his mark without announcing out loud that I am Lord Potter?
Did you or did you not destroy two dementors without once mentioning that fact.
Oh, I suppose.
Leona turned to Rookwood, and narrowed her eyes.
She'd have to set Nim down to use her normal hand motions. But her normal hand motions were only an affectation, not a necessary component to the ritual.
Greyback let out a breath. It sounded like jealousy.
She turned to him immediately, "I like our deal," she said, "do you like our deal?"
"Yes," he said.
"Good," she said, "but now that we have a possible deal, I want to know if the others will offer anything better."
She looked at Rookwood again.
"It is not in my best interests to make an offer that would in any way inconvenience Greyback's interests," said Rookwood.
She pouted and looked at Riddle.
He was extremely amused, but trying not to show it.
She gave the man who'd brought her here a cursory glance, and the same for the woman who seemed to exist solely to bring food and point wandlight at them. She turned back to Rookwood.
"It might be even more important," said Leona, "to choose what offers you make, based on not inconveniencing my interests."
Rookwood scoffed. Though his hood masked it strangely.
"Remember the poor man has no imagination," said Riddle, "He sees only the trapped bird, and cannot remember that you scoff at the bars of your cage."
Leona huffed and put Nim down so she could take hold of the bars, caressing them until both her wands touched, she did not reach for the material it was made from, only the shape, and gave it perfunctory permission to remain mostly iron. She pictured the shapes she wanted, and what intermediate changes it should go through to get into those shapes.
Rookwood gave a startled yelp just as she released her twin transfiguration spells, but by that time it was too late. Greyback leaped away from the motion, but she'd put enough power, and enough precision into the timing each of the changes should take, that it was over before he'd moved more than a meter.
The bars of the cage parted on the side farthest from her, folded away from her at the corners, folded in the middle of the sides, made a slight detour on one side to leave the prison guard and Riddle alone, then folded at the next corner and wrapped themselves around Greyback and Rookwood in two identical cages a meter apart. Except Greyback's cage had a small inclusion the size of Nim's erstwhile cage.
Riddle chuckled.
Leona ignored him and went to Rookwood's cage, "Now will my Riddle Solver listen to me?"
"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish," said Rookwood, "this doesn't inconvenience me much more than it inconvenienced you."
"Because you are fancy and have your feathers with you," said Leona, "Well I am fancy too, and I have enough feathers too," she dashed the tears from her eyes and tried to stop shaking.
Riddle stepped up behind her and rubbed her back.
Which didn't help at all with the shaking.
"Sorry I yelled, Auntie Gant … Gaunt.'
"Forgiven, little Leona," he kept rubbing her back, Comforting? To help her calm down? or encouraging her to keep making a scene?
I predicted what to do to keep his interest. But I didn't predict he could mimic affection that well, I thought he was crazy.
Then you put too much stock in his enemies' propaganda, thought Nim, he's the kind of psychopath that feels the same as everyone else, but can partition all that off in order to make strategic decisions.
Then … I don't know what his game is, and he might be outplaying me.
Perhaps, but don't give up! Giving up would immediately render you boring and disposable.
Obviously!
Also it doesn't matter if he has a three turn checkmate, if you have a two turn castle he doesn't know about. I'd say keep going.
She reached through the bars and wordlessly summoned Rookwood's left wrist to her hand.
He looked concerned, they glared at each other.
She started her litany but kept it mental. Suddenly startlingly aware of her body and mind as a conduit and lens and mirror, by which her intention entered the world from Harry's mind, and converted to shape and focus by which to control her magic.
He noticed something.
After he tried to pull away and she did not let him, he looked to his master for … for protection? and Riddle only seemed to see her seemingly awkward attempt at needy affectionate touch. And remained oblivious to the magical attack. He allowed her to continue. He continued petting her shoulders encouragingly.
And then the mark changed from Riddle's mark to Sher's mark. And Rookwood's head turned to face her. She felt his eyes on her and she opened the mental barrier and dragged him inside, siccing Nim on him.
He was expecting an untrained child with a few extra old memories, he wasn't expecting to face a team of a lord who had become a hunter, and a hunter who had been raised a lady.
Milord. We're not under a standard death eater anti-apparition ward, we're under Potter Manor. Which might be why it sprang so readily to mind.
Understood, Riddle must have claimed it by right of conquest, even as I claimed as many of his followers as I wanted, will I be able to claim it back?
Perhaps, though it depends on how much it cares about blood vs about conviction that either of you is rightful heir.
Oh. So I might need to defeat him again, just to finally get access to my family's things?
It's worth a try.
Alright.
Milord, Rookwood is carrying an excessive number of portkeys.
Where? … Perfect.
Luna and Susan, Come hold my elbows, "Leonas, time to leave, Pick up Nim and come hold on."
Leona heard them get up and walk around Riddle still trying to simulate fawning.
Make him a distinguished old woman, thought Nim, My age but healthy, straight hair, medium-to-smallish boobs, given that he hasn't had any children. Tall and arrogant, human nose and no scales of course.
Like this? Leona imagined.
Yes, but… Nim made corrections to her imagination, little changes that made the image that much more like the boy she remembered from the chamber of secrets. Longer hair. Hints of grey. Laugh lines.
You don't think it's a crazy idea?
Tonks isn't crazy, maybe he isn't either.
With her left hand, the hand that wasn't holding onto Rookwood's wrist, Leona covered Riddle's hand where it rested momentarily on her shoulder.
He moved it away and then back, realising though slowly that she wanted to return the caress.
Be Auntie Merope Tammy Gaunt.
He stumbled away from her.
She turned to look at him.
"Is that better, Auntie?" said Leona.
Riddle growled mild annoyance and looked down at what Leona and Nim had designed.
Susan grabbed her right shoulder, Luna took her hand and brought it down against Nim's body.
Leona turned back to Rookwood and intoned, "Safehouse 35, activation code, 5-9-1-6-1."
And they were somewhere else.
.
Rookwood snatched his hand away, and backed away until he was against the wall.
"What the hell, what the hell, how?"
"Calm down," said Leona and cancelled her transfigurations, "The Lord Potter, recognises service to a peer of the realm and the danger and risk involved, and rewards you with the protection of the House of Potter."
She drew a wand and healed her palm and finger.
Susan conjured robes and pointed hat around herself and cancelled her own transfiguration. Then conjured robes around Harry as well.
"The heir of Bones also recognises your service in a fraught situation, and remands you to the custody of the House of Potter."
"Thank you," said Harry.
Rookwood made inarticulate noises.
"Are there time delayed defensive wards you need to deactivate, before we begin debriefing," said Susan.
"Not for the next half hour," said Rookwood.
Harry nodded, "Given that I've taken control of your thrall mark, where do your loyalties lay now?"
Rookwood scoffed, then pulled up his sleeve, stared, and fainted.
"It's always the proud, shy, retiring types," said Susan, "bloody unspeakables."
Susan looked at Harry and shrugged, "If we really do have half an hour, that probably means this is a place to drop his work robes, shower and put on town clothes before leaving by floo."
"Ah," said Harry, "and every unspeakable has several such safe houses to rotate between?"
"Technically they usually share them, but yes. The fact that he could get away with disabling some of the wards on this one, implies that no one shares this one with him at the moment. Or that his partner is equally lax with security protocol."
"Oh."
"I'm going to go shower," said Susan, "Then we'll decide what to do next."
"I'm coming too," said Luna, and pushed Nim the rest of the way into Harry's arms.
.
Now what?
May I have a witch body yet?
Sure, is that the solution? Standard, Leona, Riddle, or something else?
Aged like Riddle, except my own hair, and instead of my own face, half way more Potter.
Someone who might plausibly be an aunt on my father's side.
And why your father might have been predisposed to notice someone with green eyes.
Alright.
Can you make me male?
You know that was in the book, but that we didn't study it.
Fair. But … can you make me as much taller than you as I used to be?
Really?
If you don't mind.
I don't have a strong opinion, sure why not.
Harry lay Nim out on the floor, then tapped his wand to her.
Be Auntie Nimrodina Black.
Potter.
Whatever. Check a mirror, decide if you like it.
She got up, Lend me a wand?
Sure.
When she started to wander away, he conjured her normal amount of clothes, except he kept strictly to leather because that was the material he had the most practice thinking about just now.
Harry wandered the house until he found a fireplace and floo powder. He called the DMLE.
"Name and nature of your emergency."
"Not an emergency, is that a different floo address?"
"No, go ahead."
"I'm Harry Potter, and I'd like to speak to Lord Black, Alistor Moody, or Trainee Tonks."
"Preference in that order?"
"Yes."
"What should I tell them it's about?"
"Um, and tell whichever one, to bring along whichever auror is their preference for bringing along to negotiate with unspeakables."
Her eyes went wide, "Do you know where you are?"
"No, the unspeakable said the wards wouldn't attack us for half an hour, and then fainted."
"Who's with you?"
"Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, and a woman we found who looks kind of like … pictures of my dad. She's been starving a long time I think."
"Good, hold the floo open."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
She gave him a nod and went away.
Eight minutes later Sirius, Amelia, and the hit-wizard who wasn't Moody that had come to help with the dementors appeared, and told him to let them through the floo.
"How?"
They told him.
Harry obeyed.
"Robards, see to the wards." Amelia said as soon as they were through, "Harry, what happened?"
"From last night?"
"Yes," said Amelia,
"They started hitting the wards with siege spells. Susan and Hanna knew what to do and started evacuating us to Hanna's house, then the floos got blocked."
Amelia narrowed her eyes, "Go on."
"Susan said we were in an unfortunate place and couldn't get to the safe house. But She and Luna agreed that we should be underground by the time the wards fell."
"True."
"I said 'what's underground?' And suggested we wouldn't be as useful to hold hostage, if we staged it to look like we'd escaped, and disguised ourselves and pretended to be prisoners instead."
Amelia raised an eyebrow, "and that worked?"
"Yes," said Harry, "Sort of, I'm afraid we might have become too interesting."
"How interesting?"
"You-know-who might think we're some kind of re-incarnation based seers, and might manage to catch an identity crisis. And I took control of the thrall mark I found on the unspeakable who they were calling Rookwood, and made him bring us here."
"Where is he?"
Harry pointed.
Amelia blinked, then frowned, "Try again."
"The alleged unspeakable, who allegedly goes by the name Rookwood, is under the protection of the House of Potter."
"Ah," she said, "well that's interesting."
"Wards are seen to," said Auror Robards, reentering from deeper in the house, "Shower's running upstairs. Crazy woman's in the kitchen scarfing stale scones and raw eggs right out of the cold box."
"See to Rookwood."
"Where's he?"
"Right there, under the protection of Harry Potter."
"Meh-aaaah? Damn it, What was that?"
"Harry Potter's mark is a disillusionment," said Amelia.
"More like notice-me-not, I think," said Harry.
"Hmm," said Amelia, "you need to register it."
"What good would that do?" said Harry, "then there'd be an invisible piece of parchment in a file in the ministry."
Amelia smirked, "you think that's the most inconvenient mark effect magic has ever bestowed on anyone? We're not amateurs Lord Potter."
Harry shrugged, then nodded.
"Who's the crazy woman?" said Amelia.
Harry froze, "Just another prisoner we found in the dark lord's zoo."
"Zoo implies many more cages than two?"
Harry nodded.
"Zoo implies …"
"Souvenirs on display, not confined as punishment," said Harry, "I'm thinking about officially retiring the Leona persona except when I'm trying to visit the dark lord."
She raised an eyebrow.
Harry shuddered, "The man has an unhealthy interest in seers."
"Unhealthy for you?"
Harry shrugged.
"Are you a seer?"
"No," said Harry. Though I'm not so sure about Luna.
"But he thinks you are?"
"When you've read Moody's dossier on someone, it's not hard to make up worlds, in which any of their favourite dreams was actually accomplished."
"Do I need to write you a citation for entering pureblood property under false pretences?" said Amelia.
Harry shrugged, "I was side-along apparated to the Bones estate without my permission or warning, I was portkeyed into Riddle's zoo with only an option of whether to be stunned first."
She nodded, "and in both cases you did not declare yourself."
Harry nodded, "Susan knew me before I even woke up, she was the one who invited me into the main house."
Amelia's eyes widened.
"If that was even the main house, I'm afraid I'm very confused at this point. And I hadn't even had a chance to tell her I was experimenting with living-to-living transfiguration disguises before she guessed her way through that one."
"Well, that's interesting."
Harry shrugged, "Also," he turned to Sirius, "Riddle's zoo is in the basement of Potter Manner, I presume he managed to claim heirship of the estate by the same technicality that has allowed me to claim some of his minions?"
"Shit," said Sirius, "Those are not pretty wards to go through."
Harry nodded, "I blame Dumbledore for thinking I needed to know about valuing love more than possessions."
Sirius shrugged.
"I don't disagree, but his method leaves much to be desired, given that I learned much more of that from the examples set by my cousins Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, not from the muggles he stuck me with. Having my parents Manor available wouldn't have made me value my friends less, it would have given me more resources to bring to the problem of protecting them."
Sirius grunted.
"Anyway, now Riddle has my wards."
"What's this? Trouble in Paradise?" said Robards.
"What Paradise?" said Harry.
"I meant the larger House of Black," said Robards.
"Again," said Sirius, "What Paradise, you remember I ran away from home at his age too?"
Robards shrugged.
"Robards, How's he coming?" said Amelia.
"He'll be fine, most of the unspeakable compulsions were already disabled or significantly weakened. He won't die of having a new mark, but he might not be sane enough to interview for several days."
"You sound disappointed," said Harry.
"I am, he should be dead from accepting your mark."
"He didn't accept my mark," said Harry, "he accepted you-know-who's mark, I merely convinced magic that I inherited him after my mother defeated Riddle."
Robards turned and stared at him, "What was Riddle doing at the time?"
"Rubbing my back, trying to convince me that having a temper tantrum wasn't so very much a breech of etiquette, trying to distract me from the fact that in my bout of 'accidental' transfiguration I'd lashed out and trapped the second and third strongest wizards in the room, rather than the strongest."
"How? Why?"
"Mind games," said Harry, "you-know-who appreciates them, I played along until I had control of Rookwood's portkeys and got the hell out."
"Who else was there?"
"Greyback, and the death eater who'd hit us with body-bind, and portkey'd us to the zoo, and a prison guard who I wasn't clear, might have been under imperious."
"It seems to me," said Amelia, "that you were very, very lucky."
Harry nodded.
"Is that luck under your control?"
"Not that I've ever noticed," said Harry, "Just, the more danger I'm aware of, the more willing I am to expend the magic to set things right."
"In that case, I respectfully request that you leave Susan out of your shenanigans."
Harry nodded, "respectfully, Ma'am, I'll leave the choice up to her to the extent that's possible, given that I also do my best to keep myself out of shenanigans."
Amelia narrowed her eyes.
.
There was a shriek and Nimrodina Black/Potter pelted into the room around the wall and crouched to a kneel right behind Harry's right hand, moments before Luna followed, searching for her.
"Harry, your cat," said Luna breathlessly.
"Was stealing food," said Harry, "Yes, I know. She was starving, let her be."
"Raw food," said Luna.
"Oh," said Harry, "good point. Nim, don't make yourself sick."
Nim looked up with trembling lips and puppy dog eyes.
He turned back to Amelia, "Tell the unspeakables to send me a bill for the food that needs to be replaced in safehouse 35."
"Who did you say she was?" said Amelia.
Harry froze.
"She is Harry's cat, obviously," said Luna, "Lady Nimrodina, triumphant in battle and of the sharp claws. Mrs. Nim to her friends."
"And you just happened to 'find her' in the dark lord's zoo?"
"Yes," said Harry, "she was caged up, one cage catercorner to us, unconscious, missing her left arm, and hadn't been given anything to eat since they took her arm to bring back the dark lord."
Amelia conjured a chair and sat facing him.
"Harry?"
"When they took her on the night of the third task, they said she was only useful because she was precious to you-know-who's enemy. I tried to pretend she didn't matter so they'd leave her be, but …"
Amelia nodded, "and is the missing arm the only reason she's under a disguise transfiguration?"
"And because she wouldn't wake up," said Harry, "I gave her enough magic to … she started healing again, and enough more she found her way back to talking in my mind, but it didn't help her body wake up."
"And are the missing arm and the not waking up thing the only reasons, that you used that spell on her?"
Harry shrugged, "and she requested it."
Amelia nodded.
"What Nim?" Harry looked down, Nim offered him the wand he'd lent her.
He took it and put it back in his holster, "she also fetches my wands, and in fights, sometimes other peoples."
"So I heard," said Amelia.
"Oh, hello Aunty," said Susan, "Glad you could make it."
"Likewise," said Amelia.
Notice how they're smirking at each other.
Notice how they're not hugging.
… That is weird now that you mention it.
Not weird, they just don't share affectionate touch as a love language.
Susan doesn't mind touch … but I suppose 'doesn't mind' isn't the same thing as 'crave'.
True.
Was Amelia flirting at me, and I was too busy interpreting the words straight that I missed important subtext?
Yes, she likes you, and she's proud of you for surviving. And intermittently she's been annoyed at how dense you are, or she's happy that you're going to take six years of extra schooling elsewhere before you come work for her as a prosecuting barrister or public defender, instead of two years of auror training, because that's six years for her to seduce you without worrying about accusations of corruption or lines of influence or whatever.
Oh my, Merlin, and that's why she's seemed blind compared to Moody and Sirius and I don't know who else, about how much Susan tries to spend time around me?
Maybe.
Fine, I'll pay attention for that too. And try not to be too foolish.
Epictetus says that 'trying not to look foolish' is a goal at odds with 'learning what you don't yet know'.
Yes, Nim.
"So what's the topic of conversation," said Susan, "or is it standard debriefing things?"
"Some standard debriefing things," said Amelia, "We're currently bogged down on Lady Nim's medical issues."
"What's boggy about them?" said Susan, "That Harry couldn't diagnose the cause while in captivity?"
"No," said Amelia, "what kind of healers I should get for her, given the circumstances."
Susan narrowed her eyes, and stared into the middle distance for several seconds, finally she turned to Harry and said, "Tell her what you told me the first time the topic came up."
"What?" said Harry, "When?"
"Behind the shrieking shack," said Susan, "When you gave Parvati a wand holster."
"We covered a lot of territory that day," said Harry.
"But very little of it was about Nim," said Susan.
"I still haven't found where the law says how to say what I mean."
"That's because it's part of magic, not part of the law, and the law recognises that there's nothing it can do about it."
"Oh," said Harry, "But … paperwork?"
"I doubt if there is paperwork," said Susan, "If there is, she'd be able to tell you how to file it, just tell her."
Harry turned to Amelia Bones, "Regent Bones."
Amelia stood up and narrowed her eyes, "What is it Lord Potter."
"I have been advised to inform you that I am in the process of hearing a plea for mercy from the outcast witch previously known as Bellatrix Lestrange.—
"Bloody hell!" said Robards.
"Until such time as I can publish my verdict, she is in my custody," finished Harry.
Amelia clenched her teeth and glanced down at Nim, then her eyes returned to Harry, "and is that her?"
"It is," said Harry.
Amelia gazed at him, for a long time, then nodded, "See, that wasn't so bad."
Harry shrugged.
"Now," said Amelia, "Take her to St. Mungos and tell them she's an animagus in need of healing. But first deputise me to announce to the Wizengamot what you just told me about her. And remember to get her registered."
"Yes, Regent Bones," said Harry, "How do I say that?"
So she walked him through the formulaic words, and reminded him the floo address for St. Mungo's, and told him the birthday party had been re-located back to Abbot's Gate after all.
...-...
{End Chapter 8}