Harry was as good as his word. Summer days rolled by in the blink of an eye, each one more pleasant than the last. There was never a moment of boredom in a place like Alverbrooke. Time went by and Dumbledore never sent for Lupin or Sirius. Everyone suspected that the Headmaster was simply trying to let them have some time with Harry and his friends, unmolested.
Nearly every day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione tramped through the small woods on the property, joined often by Lupin and Sirius. The five of them made trails and collected wild herbs for Professor Bellaton. He was making a transfiguration potion that sounded very complicated to everyone, even Hermione. Ever since he had learned that Harry and Ron had never experienced the cultural pleasures of London, he had been hell-bent on taking his young charges out to a concert in town. "With the Personata Potion, we can all go in disguise," he said, and that was all the explanation he gave. "You'll have to wait and see how it works."
Quidditch became a routine practice in the late afternoon. Ron announced that he intended to try out for the vacated position of Keeper on the Gryffindor house team, and Bellaton volunteered to train him. Hermione seldom joined in; she watched occasionally, but more often than not she spent the time in the gardens with a dusty old volume. As Harry had expected, Hermione was delighted with the library, while Ron was indifferent at best. After she spent an entire day inside, Harry and Ron exacted her promise that she could spend no more than two hours there every day. The result was that Hermione rose well before her friends and spent her mornings rummaging through the books. She had a never-ending stream of questions for the teachers, both of whom were amazed at her unquenchable thirst for knowledge.
Dueling practice began immediately. Ron and Hermione were apprehensive on their first day, especially when Bellaton said that he would disarm each of them, one at a time, so they could see how the combat room worked. Ron went first. Face pale, hands shaking slightly, he faced Bellaton from across the room.
"Be calm, Ron," Professor Thornby called from the side, where she stood with Harry and a very nervous Hermione. "You won't be hurt."
"Expelliarmus!" Bellaton shouted.
Ron's wand flew from his hand, but even as he was blasted backwards toward the wall, he slowed to a gentle stop as the air around him solidified. "Wicked!" he said as his feet gently settled to the floor again.
Hermione brightened visibly, and took her turn with no qualms. After that, dueling became one of their favorite activities. The professors had them practicing all manner of disarming and blocking spells, and even a few attacking spells. Bellaton liked to attack without warning, teaching the three of them to think on their feet. "You can't trust a dark wizard any farther than you can throw them," he was fond of saying. "No, not even that far. Civilized people attack at the same time; you can't count on a dark wizard to wait until you say 'three'."
One day, Ron expressed interest in the weapons displayed on the walls of the combat room. Swords of all shapes and sizes, axes, spears, staves, knives, and more covered them. "Do you know how to use all of those?" he asked, staring up at a particularly wicked looking axe.
"A few," Bellaton said. "A good soldier should always know how to use more than one weapon. This is always the first and the best," he said, indicating his wand.
"The best alternate for most wizards is the quarterstaff," Professor Thornby said. She raised her hand and one flew off the wall, smacking loudly into her palm. "A wand can be transfigured into something else – knives and staves most easily." Taking it in both hands, she twirled it in front of her in a practiced way. "The use of a staff in duels is an uncommon practice now, but it used to be very popular. The Death Eaters probably know how to use them; Voldemort seems quite fond of the old ways."
Professor Bellaton summoned a second staff off the wall. He swung it back and forth between his hands a few times before lunging at Professor Thornby with lightning speed. She pivoted at the same moment, raising her staff to block. The two lengths of wood met with a loud CRACK.
Hermione gasped; she, Ron, and Harry all jumped.
"Care for a little practice, Celeste?" Bellaton said, grinning wickedly.
Professor Thornby's eyes flashed in a challenging way. "Why? Feeling rusty?" she said.
Without warning, they both leapt back from their holding position. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other nervously and backed up all the way to the wall.
The two professors each held one hand out toward the other, palm up, and raised it toward the ceiling. They lowered their hands and began circling each other, one occasionally probing at their opponent with one end of their staff, which the other blocked quite easily. And then – crack, crack, crack, crack! Professor Thornby's quick thrusts were stopped by Professor Bellaton. She swung her staff at his head, which he ducked. He leapt up out of his crouch, staff whirling, pressing a counterattack. She twirled her own staff, backing up, blocking Bellaton's thrusts. The big man was moving so fast that Harry could hardly follow his movements.
Around and around they danced, jumping over low swipes and leaning backwards out of the way of headshots, staves clacking incessantly against each other. Harry and his friends stood and watched, entranced by the show before them. Finally, after a long minute, Professor Thornby failed to block one of Professor Bellaton's thrusts quickly enough. Quick as lightning, one end of Bellaton's quarterstaff knocked hers aside; the other end swung back to smash into her side. She suddenly seemed to be enclosed in an envelope of crackling light, and she fell to the floor with a loud "oof!"
Bellaton lowered his staff to his side and leaned on it like a walking stick, catching his breath. He was smiling broadly.
Harry looked anxiously down at his guardian. To his surprise, she seemed entirely unhurt; in fact, she was smiling too. "Touche, Ardoc," she said, breathing heavily.
"What happened when he hit you?" Hermione said, sounding awestruck.
"Did you see us raise shields?" Bellaton said.
"Is that what you were doing with your hands?" Harry asked.
Bellaton nodded. "They're only temporary. We use them for practice to keep from being hurt. One good disarming strike like that destroys the shield completely. They are useful for real duels, of course, but you might not always have a chance to raise one before the fight begins."
"Once you've been knocked down, you're more or less done for." Professor Thornby gestured to her partner. "If he'd wanted to, he could have easily killed me by striking me in the head, or by doing this." She lay back on the floor, and Bellaton moved to stand over her. He raised his staff, gently placed the end against her throat, and quickly removed it. She smiled grimly up at him. "All he'd have to do is bring it smashing down."
"I don't like doing that," Bellaton said, shaking his head. "Even when I'm only showing the danger to someone, you're still completely at my mercy."
"Then it's just as well that I can trust you with my life, isn't it?" she said, sitting up. "It's good that they should see it, Ardoc."
"I know. Best that they know the worst that can happen." He offered Professor Thornby his hand to help her up.
"Well fought," said a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to look at Sirius and Lupin. No one had seen them come in.
"You know the staff, Sirius?" Bellaton said, sounding delighted.
"My parents were very wealthy," Sirius said. "I had the best of instruction."
"Perhaps you'd care for a match?" Bellaton asked.
"Love to – but later, when you're rested," Sirius said.
"Very sporting of you," Bellaton said. "Don't be fooled by what you just saw. We each win about fifty percent of the time."
Professor Thornby laughed. "You don't have to sweeten the numbers that much," she said. "You win more often than that because you're so big. It's hard for me to knock you off your feet."
Ron was dancing on his toes, bobbing from side to side. "When do we start learning this?" he asked eagerly.
"Today, if you wish," Professor Thornby said. She rubbed her side gently.
"Are you all right?" Lupin said. The concern in his voice was obvious. "I thought you had a shield up."
"I am perfectly well, thank you," she said, still a touch breathless, her face flushed. From the exercise, Harry supposed. "The shield vanishes with the first direct hit. It's gone by the time you hit the ground."
"We can start today?" Ron said excitedly, as if Lupin had never spoken. Hermione looked exasperated; Harry just grinned.
"Of course," she said. "But you'll be starting with the forms. Your staff won't make contact with another for weeks, at least."
Ron's face fell. Sirius laughed, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Cheer up, Ron. You'll get to the fancy stuff. You have to learn to crawl before you can walk."
Every day afterwards, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves learning the basic moves. As the only adult in the house who didn't know how to fight with a quarterstaff, Lupin looked a bit uncomfortable watching the lessons until Professor Thornby suggested he join in. It seemed just the invitation he had been waiting for; Lupin was as fast a learner as any of his former pupils. Most of the forms they learned were numbered, though Sirius said that there were a few special moves with names. For each of those basic forms, Harry and his friends learned how to set their feet, hold the staff, and move their bodies. After a week, Bellaton had them all standing in a row, going through the motions while he called out numbers. When their responses grew quick and sure enough, he allowed them to begin facing each other, one student executing the commanded moves while the other performed the counterstrokes. The rhythmic clacking of wood on wood became a common sound in the house, but the three students and Lupin found that the staffs seemed to meet flesh as often as they met each other. Days passed, however, and they began to see the way the forms flowed together, the way attack met counterattack. As they improved they nursed fewer rapped knuckles and bruised shins.
Professor Thornby was directing the lesson one afternoon, Harry and Hermione gently sparring with each other while Lupin and Ron looked on.
"One! Seven! Three!" she called. Harry, who was defending, quickly moved to comply, while Hermione executed the countermoves – almost flawlessly.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed as the lower half of Harry's staff caught her legs and brought her crashing down to the padded floor.
Professor Thornby stopped calling out numbers. Harry lowered his staff and pushed hair out of his sweaty face. Hermione sat on the floor, rubbing her leg and grimacing. Harry bent over, offering her his hand, which she accepted with a smile. "Thanks," she said.
"No problem," he replied. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "I just can't seem to get that last one right."
"You're doing much better on six, Hermione," Professor Thornby said, walking over. "Eight is better as well, but you need to work on the finish a bit there." Hermione nodded, breathing heavily, her damp bangs dangling into her eyes. "Right, then," the older woman continued. "Ron, Lupin, it's your turn."
Bellaton and Sirius chose that moment to come striding into the room, their robes billowing behind them. "The time is now!" the bigger man said, his voice booming around the room. "Bristlebark tree! Last chance!" And he turned around and strode right back again. Sirius shrugged, grinned roguishly at them all, and followed him out.
The five of them trailed out of the combat room and followed Sirius and Bellaton from the house. They were led to a back corner of the garden, where Bellaton stopped in front of a large patch of freshly turned earth. He reached into a pocket in his robes and pulled out a seed about the size of a golf ball. It was round, dark brown, and covered with long spines. He squatted beside the patch and picked up a small trowel. He planted the prickly seed a foot underground and stood back up, brushing the dirt from his hands.
"Don't say anything while I'm working, now," he said. "Just listen."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione grinned excitedly at each other.
Bellaton drew a few deep, calm breaths, opened his mouth, and began to sing.
The sound that came out was rich and melodious. The tune was simple but full, the words in another language – Latin, Harry thought. The notes were gentle and somehow reassuring; it sounded like Bellaton was trying to convince the seed to sprout out of the earth.
A long minute passed, while Bellaton sang on, his wand trained on the spot where he had planted the spiny seed. Harry, his friends, and the adults all watched the patch of earth intently. Without warning, a small sprout pushed its way out of the dirt. They watched in amazement as it grew larger, stretching upward and sprouting new leaves.
Then Bellaton did something extraordinary. His one voice became two, singing in harmony. Harry's head whipped around to look first at him and then Professor Thornby. Everyone else did the same. She stood calmly, mouth closed, watching the sprout become a sapling. The listeners looked at each other, but no one except Professor Bellaton was making any noise whatsoever. Harry listened in amazement as yet another voice joined the chorus, and then another. What he was hearing simply wasn't possible. The sapling stretched upward, the thin trunk thickening, branches beginning to divide off. Leaves burst out all over. The song became faster, and the tree grew faster with it. It was taller than Harry now. Up it stretched, the crown beginning to spread over their heads. Bellaton increased the tempo more and more, and the tree was truly exploding before their very eyes. They all stepped backwards as it shot upwards, the trunk thickening more and more, branches spreading, star-shaped leaves blocking the sun. Professor Bellaton slowed his singing, and the harmony became gentler again; the tree slowed its growth in response. One by one, the many voices of the chorus began to vanish. The tempo slowed until they could no longer see the tree growing. Finally, only one voice was left. The song ended as simply as it had begun; silence fell. The only sound was the wind rustling in the leaves of the brand new tree.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, awestruck; Sirius and Lupin looked thoughtful as they gazed at the tree.
"Well done," Professor Thornby said to Professor Bellaton, breaking the silence.
"Thank you," he said. He cleared his throat. "That did go well, didn't it? I haven't grown a tree in quite some time." He waved his wand and conjured up a glass of water. "Ahhh," he sighed, taking a long drink. "I needed that."
"How did you do that?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Beg your pardon?"
"Multiply your voice," she said.
Bellaton shook his head. "I don't know how to explain it to you," he said. "All Singers can do it. It's mostly a matter of knowing all the parts of the Song and thinking them into being. And then you just find yourself singing five harmonies or so at once. The more parts, the harder it is to sing the Song successfully."
"Oh. All right," Hermione said, looking slightly dazed.
Professor Thornby was looking at them in a searching way. When Harry caught her eye, she smiled and looked away. "What do you need the tree for?" he asked.
"The bark of the Bristlebark tree is used in many potions, including Veritaserum," Hermione said. Professor Thornby smiled at her and nodded. "The leaves, roots, and sap are also useful, but I don't remember how."
"Better remember this day, Harry," Ron said. "Hermione has just admitted that she doesn't remember something she read once. She is mortal, after all."
Hermione gave her head an indignant shake. "It won't happen again anytime soon, Ronald Weasley," she said.
"She's right again, though," Bellaton said. "They don't put forth seeds very often and take a long time to grow to seed-bearing age. Time was, Singers were always used to raise them, but there aren't many of us around anymore."
"And you're all out of Veritaserum, are you?" Sirius asked. He winked at Harry.
"As a matter of fact, no," Professor Thornby said dryly. "But I understand that Professor Snape is."
No one really had anything to say to a statement like that.
**********
The day finally arrived when Bellaton declared the Personata Potion to be ready. "The London Symphony Orchestra is performing Scheherazade tomorrow night, and we are all going," he said. "If I hadn't met those Muggles you grew up with, Harry, I'd never be able to believe that they never took you out in London."
The next evening, they all assembled in the hall wearing their dress robes. When Ron appeared, Harry was happy to see that he was wearing new dress robes – dark blue with silver trim. "They're from Fred and George," Ron said, looking enormously pleased. "They won't tell me where they got the money, and they made me promise not to tell mum about the robes. You know what that means?"
"Um..." said Harry.
"They sold one of their jokes! They must have! There's no other way they could have that kind of money, and that's why they don't want mum to know. She'd blow her top if she found out they were still working on Ton Tongue Toffees and the like. I mean, she always suspects, but still."
Harry sighed inwardly, relieved that the twins had kept his secret. If Ron knew that the robes had been bought with his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament, Ron would die of shame. Harry fully intended to keep that little something secret.
When they had all assembled, Bellaton presented them all with a small glass of a clear, purplish potion.
"Bottoms up," Lupin said cheerfully, and drained his glass. The others followed suit. A few seconds passed while everyone stood around, holding the empty glasses and looking at one another.
"Is something supposed to happen?" Ron said.
"Not until I do this," Bellaton said, moving to stand in front of Ron. He flourished his wand. "Cambio!"
Bellaton kept his wand trained on Ron. As Harry watched, Ron's features and clothing began to change. In moments, a taller, dark-haired young man in a dark suit and tie stood where Ron had been. The new Ron looked down at his body and back at Professor Bellaton. "Um... did I miss something?" he said. His voice was the same.
"That's the beauty of the Personata Potion – and the danger," Bellaton said. "You still look like you when you look at yourself, even in the mirror. So if the potion wore off, you wouldn't know unless someone told you. We're all going to have about twelve hours."
With that, he set about changing the others. Hermione's eyes became blue, her hair blonde. Harry couldn't see what happened to him, of course, but Ron said that he and Hermione looked like they could be brother and sister. Professor Thornby and Professor Bellaton transformed into an old woman and an old man; Lupin and Sirius grew a bit younger.
They Flooed to a deserted storeroom in the Leaky Cauldron. It was so crowded downstairs that no one seemed to notice them; a few steps and they were out in the streets of London. They crowded into two taxis and headed for a restaurant that the professors seemed to know. Harry had never been in such a place before; he found himself eating a five-course meal and trying creme brulee for the first time. In what felt like no time at all, dinner was over and he found himself sitting in a polished concert hall with his two best friends, listening to sounds of a sort he had barely heard before. The music swelled around them; Harry was completely absorbed in the performance between listening to the changing themes and watching the performers manipulate their instruments. He sat and listened, swept away in the sound, until the last aching note from the violin sounded. Professor Thornby sighed; Harry looked at her, and she gave him a wrinkled, blissful smile. Harry thought he knew how she felt.