A/N: The zucchini's are mine! Everything else probably belongs to Rowling in some way or another. James Bond's name belongs to someone else too.
I've forgone the historical excerpt for this chapter since it was long enough as is and I was having trouble thinking of a short one. Uric's thoughts are once again in italics but at one point Dumbledore jumps in and does so as well. Don't know how it happened but Dumbledore took over the chapter, so it's mostly from his point of view. Why does spell check have a problem with the name Albus?
Also, I am starting a new Uric story about his years at Hogwarts. It shouldn't interfere any with this story and should be up soon. I'll tell you guys when.
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The Leaky Cauldron had stood in the same place for over a thousand years. During the Goblin Raids of 1561, it was somehow transmuted into a giant cactus and sent to the Nairobi Desert but other than that it has been in the same place. In fact, it was rumoured that the location of the Leaky Cauldron was the reason why London was built where it was. Muggles of course, never visit the Leaky Cauldron. Instead they would see the fantastic Dustbin Emporium, perpetually closed for the holidays.
It has been destroyed many times in its history. Smashed by giants, rampaged by hippogriffs, devastated by demons – the Leaky Cauldron's seen it all. Of course, Uric Beaufolle is the only one of these creatures to have been banned for life.
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They entered the Leaky Cauldron and took a table near the wall. A server came over and took their order. Tea, some biscuits and a sandwich with cheese for Uric. He still refused to take the tea cosy off his head, but after a few strange looks, the other patrons ignored him.
Suddenly, Uric whipped out his wand and cast a spell that turned everything, including people's faces, a lurid green with pink spots. Dumbledore watched, amused. The other patrons were not so happy.
"That's better," said Uric. The proprietor was heading for them, his face turning a darker shade of green with anger.
"JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Uric looked at him blankly. Perhaps I should have made the dots purple.
"CHANGE IT BACK! NOW!!" Uric looked down at his floppy wand and back at the innkeeper. His pink dots were throbbing luminescently.
"Do you like zucchini?" he asked.
"NO! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?" Uric grinned a grin that made the innkeeper step out of his personal space, for fear of catching the insanity.
"That's good because zucchini's will kill us all. Everyone who ate zucchini in the 1400's is dead." The innkeeper stared open mouthed, his anger lost somewhere in the river of Uric's insanity.
"But everyone who ate anything in the 1400's is dead," the innkeeper protested.
"That's the brilliance of their plan you see? They make it seem like it's all types of food that kill people but it's really just zucchini. I tried to tell my father but he wouldn't listen. I suspect they already got to him." Uric shook his head sadly. "Why must so many people throw their lives away over a green vegetable that resembles a hung over cucumber?" The innkeeper took a couple more steps back, than appealed to Dumbledore.
"Will you change it back Mr. Dumbledore?" he asked. Albus looked from him to Uric.
"Can you change it back?" Albus asked Uric. "You don't want to be banned again." Uric sighed. He raised his wand and changed it all back to the boring everyday colours. So much for variety… The innkeeper walked back to his bar, glaring at Uric from afar. He would have thrown him out, but Dumbledore was well respected in wizarding circles. Many even said he was one of the few wizards with a chance of bringing down Grindelwald. Pity he was wasting himself teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts. His glare slowly shifted to Dumbledore.
Albus disregarded the stare of the innkeeper and began the questioning he had wanted to begin, ever since he saw Uric sock shopping.
"Uric. Uric!" Albus had to pull the wizard's attention away from watching the clock on the wall tick.
"What are you doing in this time, Uric?"
"Getting clothing and food, like the boys said."
"Who said?" asked Albus.
"James and Sirius. They showed me how to use the time turner," said Uric happily.
"May I see it, Uric?" The food and tea arrived.
"See what?"
"The time turner." Albus was beginning to understand why people found it so tiring to talk to Uric.
"You're not going to eat it are you? James said not to. Not even with mustard." Albus began to wonder just who this James was that Uric had been talking to.
"I promise I won't eat it, or dunk it in my tea for that matter," he said carefully. Uric handed him the turner and began to eat his sandwich, mumbling something about cheese.
Albus regarded the small golden time turner. There was definitely something off about it. How had Uric survived such a long trip in time? Where was the turner's chain? How could…
"Don't shake it," said Uric suddenly, just as a passing server jostled Albus' elbow, causing his hand to shake. He found himself outside the Leaky Cauldron and wandered back in with a bemused expression on his face. He handed the time turner back to Uric who slipped it in his pocket.
"Does it go to whichever time you want, besides moving you in space?"
"I don't know. I don't like knowing my destination until after I get there," said Uric. Albus gave Uric his best teacher look.
"You have to go back to your own time, Uric. If you turn in the time turner, I'm sure that they'll just fine you." Uric gave him a look that clearly said Albus was insane.
"They locked me up, Albus. No doors, no magic, no birds, no badgers and no socks. They said it was forever. I like being free Albus. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Why did Father let them do this?"
"I think," Dumbledore paused to consider his words. He couldn't tell Uric the future without compromising the past, but the past was already compromised if Uric didn't go back. "I think they let you go, Uric." Uric looked up from where he'd been drawing smiley faces with drops of water on the table.
"You think," he repeated, his hazel-eyes suddenly penetrating and very, very bright. The question he'd asked less than a half hour before flashed through Albus' mind. Are you really insane, Uric?
"Uric…" he started. Abruptly, Uric broke off his stare and laughed. Without warning he reached out and grabbed Albus' beard, pulling him close, so their faces were inches apart. Albus' hand went to his wand, but he didn't draw it.
"I once had a flying mattress. Beautiful creature. Of course, it did have a couple of accidents on the hearthrug, but other than that it was very well trained. She died one day, after she saw the ducks go into the pond and followed them. I had to fish out her water logged carcass and bury her in the garden." Uric looked off into space, remembering that not so fateful day. Albus relaxed slightly, realizing the danger had passed.
"Perhaps you could let go of my beard then?" he asked politely. Uric gave a delighted laugh, as if he'd just noticed that he was holding Albus' beard. Eventually, he let the beard go, but not before the auburn mass was divided into several neat braids by Uric's surprisingly nimble fingers and tied off with multicoloured ribbons, conjured by Uric's wand. Albus endured it with dignity, pretending that having someone braid his beard was an everyday occurrence.
The patrons of the Leaky Cauldron were now staring openly at them, while the innkeeper had progressed from glaring to openly staring down his wand at them. Uric had managed to finish his sandwich and the entire contents of the salt and pepper shakers. Albus had just managed to hide the sugar bowl. He decided enough was enough and beckoned the proprietor over to pay for the meal. How was he going to convince Uric to go back to his own time?
Unfortunately, the decision was taken from him. As they walked out the door into the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron, they were accosted by the strangest wizard either of them had ever seen, which was saying something since both of them had mirrors.
His robes were the customary jet black with a strange white collar and a black bow tie. He had a hood pulled up to hide his hair. Covering his eyes was a large pair of sunglasses, though Albus knew them as aviator glasses. In his mouth was a strange plastic device that those from the later twentieth century would identify as a red snorkel.
The man pulled the snorkel out of his mouth and examined it, before using his wand to transfigure it into a red cigar. He might have muttered something about 'those damn kids' but Albus wasn't sure. The man lit the cigar and placed it back in his mouth.
"Which of you is…never mind. Uric, right?" He had noticed the tea cosy. Uric just nodded. He could see his face in the man's glasses.
"We need to talk – in private," he said. Albus didn't like this.
"Wait. Who are you?" he demanded. The man dragged on his cigar and blew a smoke ring. He did not offer his hand.
"You can call me Bond. James Bond." He obviously paused for effect, but getting nothing from his audience, continued. "I'm an agent for the Department of Mysteries. It's important that I talk to Uric here." With that he put his arm around Uric's shoulder and led him off. Albus watched them go. Surely the department would sort it out, but then, why did he feel so queasy? He shook his head and began the long task of un-braiding his beard, resolving to go home tonight and read A Closer Look at the Oddball.
He should have read it a long time ago.
*****
Next Chap: Bond and Uric talk. Uric visits a very special house at a very special time. Will Uric be renamed Uric the Destroyer? Will the dead badgers appear? Will the zucchini take over? And coming sometime soon, the incident and trial that got Uric locked up in the first place.
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