Chapter Thirty One: Blessings and Curses

Robert slowly opened his eyes to see Colin Creevey sitting at his bedside. Colin smiled warmly. "Are you hungry, Robert? I can call Madam Pomfrey."

"Famished," Robert answered, "but . . . why am I in the infirmary?"

"Don't you remember?"

"I remember . . ." Robert paused in thought. "I remember a strange dream, Colin. Hermione was sitting where you are now, but she was crying. And Harry was standing over there, in the corner. I was flying above my bed and looking down at myself when Father Peter walked in, (you do not know him but he was with me when I was kidnaped). He looked up at me and said, 'My Lord, it is not yet your time. You must return.'" Robert paused again, looking Colin in the eye. "It was a strange dream."

"Maybe, but I do know who Father Peter is. I talked to him yesterday. He told me how he knew you."

Robert stared in surprise. "I could believe you had met Father Peter, but he could not have told you anything. Father Peter cannot speak. He has no larynx, no voice box."

"That explains his harsh voice," Colin admitted. "But he can talk, after a fashion. You'll see."

Later that day, Robert did see. Father Peter visited him in his sick bed and they had a wonderful conversation. Robert did notice how the priest managed this interesting feat. The old man would inhale to talk, forming the words as the air passed over his lips and tongue. It was a harsh voice indeed, but it was easily understandable.


"You're supposed to be dead," Malfoy said when he spotted Robert in the hallway. He was obviously upset.

"Madam Pomfrey has amazing talents," Robert replied with a smirk. When the old priest cleared his throat, Robert excused himself. "Forgive me, Father Peter. This is a fellow student, Malfoy, and his housemates, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy, this is my former History Professor, Father Peter Smalling."

"It is my pleasure," Father Peter said as he extended his hand.

Malfoy gave the hand a gruff look. "I hope you mind if I don't shake hands. You might have something."

Father Peter smiled kindly and made the Sign of the Cross. "I understand, my son. In Nomino Deus. Go with God." He turned to Robert. "We should not keep this young gentleman from his classes, My Lord. Perhaps you will show me this ship of yours?"

Malfoy laughed as the priest walked away. "Do you believe that barmy old coot," he said to his friends. "I insulted him and he didn't even know it. Those people are not only barbaric. They're ignorant as well." Still laughing, the three made their way to Transfiguration.

Malfoy sat down and waited patiently for the class to begin. Professor McGonagall told them their lesson for the day and gave them a demonstration. "You are to turn your flower into a flute. This may seem simple but you will be changing an animate object into an inanimate object. There will be extra credit if your flute has etchings or other distinguishing characteristics. Does anyone what to try first?"

Draco raised his hand. Being first meant that he was done with the lesson. He stood up confidently and raised his wand in the proper manner, pronouncing the spell properly. His flower remained a flower. "Sorry, Professor," he said sheepishly. "I wasn't concentrating." He focused his thoughts and tried again to no avail. After his third attempt, he threw down the wand. "There's something wrong with this blasted thing."

Professor McGonagall rebuked him for his remark, and picked up his wand. "Lumos," she said, and frowned when the wand did nothing. "It seems you are correct, Mr. Malfoy. Why don't you try someone else's wand?"

Draco grabbed Goyle's wand and tried again. Again, nothing happened. McGonagall looked surprised and took Goyle's wand from Draco's frustrated hand.

"Lumos."

The tip of the wand shown with a bluish light.

Draco stared in surprise. "That's impossible. Give me tha . . . Excuse me, Professor. May I try again?" McGonagall handed him the wand and Draco waved it calling out, "Lumos." After a short pause, he began waving the wand frantically, shouting, "LUMOS. LUMOS. LUMOS." He threw the wand down and grabbed Crabbe's wand. "LUMOS."

Defeated, Draco sat down with a stunned expression. He could not perform magic, not even the simplest spell. Then anger filled his face. "It was that old man, the one with Somerset." His voice was little more than a hiss. "He cursed me."

"He spoke Latin at him," Goyle offered.

"And what did he say?" McGonagall asked with concern.

"In nominus duce?" Goyle replied, not sure if he was correct.

"Deus," Crabbe corrected.

"In God's name?" McGonagall was perplexed. "Malfoy, you are clearly upset. That isn't a curse. The priest was merely giving you a blessing." When Malfoy gave her a confused look, she added, "It's what they do. Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey. You may have contracted an illness and it may be contagious."

As everyone tried to edge away from him, Draco asked, "What about my wand?"

"Take it with you, of course."

Angry and confused, and slightly afraid he might really be sick, Draco slunk from the classroom and made his way to the infirmary. Twenty four hours later, he was fine but his wand still wouldn't work. He was forced to contact his father to take him to Ollivanders.

"Good Afternoon, Father Peter," Harry said, as the old man and his escort neared the ship, and the students.

"Hello again, Lord Doppleganger," The priest said with amusement. "I see you have been keeping my former pupil out of trouble."

"As much as I can, Father. As you can see, it is very difficult." As they shared laughter, Harry thought to ask, "Robert, are you well enough for classes?"

"Madam Pomfrey forbids it. I must wait until after the weekend. Instead I have been showing Father Peter around the school. Father Peter, these are my fellow cadets, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and Susan Bones. And the man on the deck is Captain Grissom." Robert turned around to point to another student who was running as fast as he could from the school. "And that is Colin Creevey. Colin is always noted for his promptness."

Susan Bones stepped forward and shook Father Peter's hand. "Thank you, Father, for what you did for Robert."

The priest actually blushed. "It is my calling, child. I must help any and all who are injured, and bless any who have crossed the path of the Dark Lord."

"The Dark Lord?" Susan asked with trepidation.

"The Devil, child. The Father of Lies. I refer of course to those who have been touched by Black Magic."

"He blessed Malfoy," Robert said and he and Harry grinned.

"Made it," Colin said as he ran up.

"On time, as usual," Captain Grissom said from behind the group. "Lieutenant Creevey, if you have time it would be easier to leave earlier. Then you would not have to run."

"Um, Harry," Ginny asked as Grissom took Father Peter aside to exchange words with him. "Why is it funny that he blessed Malfoy?"

"It was really a curse, wasn't it?" Ron asked eagerly.

Harry laughed. "No, it was a blessing. Father Peter is gifted in two ways. He is a healer, as we well know but he is also . . ." He stopped as Robert grabbed his arm.

"Harry, perhaps we should leave it at that?"

"I'll tell them," Colin warned. "Father Peter told me, because I'm part of this group. And they're part of this group, too."

Robert nodded. "But it can go no further."

"Besides," Colin added, "the rumors are already starting. The Slytherins have been talking about Malfoy, and Madam Pomfrey is keeping him in the infirmary."

"And why is that?" Ginny asked, with Ron and Susan echoing her.

"Well?" Colin asked.

"It is this way," Robert explained. "In our world we have long been aware of magic, and termed it the tool of the devil. The initial power of the church was from priests and nuns who had the ability to suppress magic in all its forms. This trait was passed on, of course, through their children."

"Their children?" Colin asked. "Then priests and nuns can marry in your world?"

"Unless they are missionaries," Robert explained. "Otherwise, the only restriction is that both must have taken holy orders. A priest can only marry a nun."

Susan was bemused. "What if they fall in love with someone who isn't a priest or a nun. Would they have to leave the Church?"

"Or the other person would have to take on the cloth. But that question is beside the point. The point being that, in my world, when you enter a church all magic is nullified. Every church has been blessed and consecrated by an Archbishop. If you have been affected by magic, you simply enter a church and seek out the nearest priest or nun and ask for a blessing. The effects of the magic are gone. Unless it is someone such as Father Maurice. He has no talent in any respect."

Ron grasped it first. "Malfoy can't do any magic. How long will it last?"

"As I have said, Father Peter is powerful in this respect. Malfoy should recover some time tomorrow, but his wand will not. It is now nothing more than a stick."

After the class, which Father Peter and Robert observed, Colin asked Robert a question. "If he's so powerful, why isn't he a bishop or something."

Robert grinned. "For the same reason he teaches history. He loves to read and study. I was told once that he was more powerful than the Pope in Avignon, but he has no mind or interest in bureaucracy. After all, Colin, what good would a Pope be who was more interested in reading the old tomes than in the current affairs of the Church?"


The Lord Seneschal entered the chamber and genuflected. "Your Gracious Majesty."

"Please rise, My Lord," His Majesty said in ill temper. "What is known?"

"Your nephew lives, although it was a near thing."

A sigh. "That is the news We have been praying for. We thank God, and Father Maurice for his quick thinking."

"There is other news, Your Majesty. Lord Darcy has reported success in his investigation. Professor Quirrell has been informed of this and has dispatched a team of scientists, all Master Sorcerers."

"No journeymen?"

"It seems that Professor Quirrell does not wish the spy to know too much. We wish to keep the Poles thinking, preferably about the wrong things."

His Majesty nodded. "While it has been useful to let this spy wander unmolested, his usefulness is at an end. Order Captain Smollet to turn this agent or remove him."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Lord Seneschal, The school, Hogwarts. Find out when the end of the school year is. I think we should make a demonstration against these wizards." He paused. "Have our researchers found anything that is useful to us?"

"In some areas. Literature and Music, especially."

The King scowled. "Even the Poles have Literature and Music, and before you say it, they also have Art. We were asking about Science."

"Nothing, Your Majesty. All of their spells are based upon their amplification devices. Almost all of them use power and little skill. Nothing that could be used to help the general population. Their muggle scientists have made achievements that we could possible duplicate, but even there we are faced mostly with means to destroy ourselves quite easily." The Lord Seneschal remained quiet, although he was trying to formulate a sentence. "Your Majesty, this world we have contact with. It is horror within horror. Nowhere do I see any cohesion, no common purpose. In one of their books I came across a phrase which described it perfectly."

His Majesty nodded. He knew of that phrase. "Every man for himself and God against all. Lord Seneschal, We will visit this horror and see what effect reason has upon it."

"Will reason carry a sword?"

"And use it if needs be."


April faded from the Calender and May took its place. Sirius Black became a familiar sight at the school and became a favorite of the more adventurous students. He would readily tell stories about the old days and of the Marauders. The Weasley Twins were regular visitors but they would always talk privately with him. Ron told Harry it was because they were planning on opening a joke shop when they graduated. "They figure Sirius Black could give them some good ideas."

Harry laughed. "If half of what I have heard is true, I think they are trying to make him a partner."

Ron looked shocked, then nodded. It was obvious once you thought about it. "There's Hermione."

They turned from where they were sitting by the lake and waved. Old enmities forgotten, Hermione and Ron were friends again as though nothing had ever happened.

"More studying?" Harry asked as he looked at the book in Hermione's hand.

"No," Hermione said. "I wanted to check on something after Robert told me about his conversation with Father Peter."

"You mean the day he blessed Malfoy?" Ron asked with a laugh.

Hermione nodded. "Exactly. And I found out something interesting. Where's Robert?"

"He's talking with Captain Grissom," Ron answered. "He'll be here in a few minutes."

"Good, I found out about Remus Lupin."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I know where he went, and why. He went to your world, Harry. They're going to cure him. They're going to banish the curse." Hermione's smile was immediately matched by Ron, but both frowned when Harry did not join them. "What is it, Harry?"

"I know about Uncle Remus. I know about the cure."


Captain Grissom now hosted Sirius Black on his ship instead of Remus Lupin. Sirius and Remus were as different as night and day, and as a result the frigate had a different atmosphere. It also received a name. One day, after talking with Grissom, Sirius Black obtained a bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey and christened the ship. Dumbledore used his wand and the name appeared on the stern: Sea Wolf.

Sirius was aided in his recovery by a meeting with Father Peter before he returned home, and came away with an initial opinion of amazement that such a thing was possible. He was one of the few wizards who held the Empire in respect.

On this particular evening, Sirius was sitting at his dinner, completely unaware of the sounds around him in the Great Hall. Tonight was the night of the full moon and his mind was on his friend. He could only hope that Remus would be safe.


Remus Lupin stood nervously in the large circular room. The time had come for his cure and he was anxious for it. The moon would rise within the hour and he feared this transformation more than any other. He had no potion, and there were no chains or cages. Unless this windowless room was the cage. The single door opened, and the Grand Master walked in followed by twelve Master Sorcerers.

"Goodman Lupin," The Grand Master said courteously.

"Master Sorcerer," Remus replied with a slight bow. "Um, I suppose I should stand in the middle of the room?"

The Grand Master was surprised for a moment. "I should apologize, Goodman Lupin. This is the first time that the person is my charge has wanted my services."

"And I fervently pray for your success," Remus added.

The Grand Master gestured, and Remus took his place on the dias in the center of the room. He looked down in amusement at the recessed bar which normally did hold chains. The Grand Master began to chant the spell in the old Latin. At certain points the other Sorcerers would join in, each waving a wand of some wood or metal, or tossing powders into prepared braziers until the room was thick with smoke. At the conclusion, all shouted "Finis" then fell into silence and quietly marched out of the hall.

Father Maurice entered and walked toward the wizard. Remus Lupin was smiling.

"I can feel it, Maurice," he said with a laugh. "Or should I say I can't feel it?"

"Come with me, Remus," Father Maurice said in a voice that shared his friend's cheer. "See the fruits of our labor."

Father Maurice led the wizard from that room, across the corridor and into another room. Remus smiled at Harry and Robert, who were standing there with Dumbledore, but continued to follow the priest. Father Maurice opened the doors leading out to the balcony, and led Remus outside. On the horizon, the first sliver of the rising moon could be seen.

Remus clutched his chest in anticipation, but no pain came. He stood there and watched, saying nothing as the full moon rose into the sky. He had never seen such a sight since that time long ago when he was just a boy.

Someone stepped up next to him, and Remus saw Xavier Pantely, his doctor. "Xavier, it is all I have hope for."

"But what you have lost, Remus."

"Is nothing to what I have gained." Remus smiled. "I suppose you will no longer be my doctor."

Xavier smiled in return. "I suppose I could have 'one' muggle patient."

Both men laughed, then went inside. There was a celebration to be made.


The sullen man saw nothing as the coach rode through the streets of London. The excitement of his cure had faded and reality had set in. His old life, good things and bad, was gone forever, and he had no thought as to how he would live. The offer of employment that he accepted would at least give him something to do.

Remus looked out of the coach as it approached a familiar house. The townhouse of the Marquis de London. The coach stopped and he stepped out, pausing to pay the driver. He walked up the path and knocked on the door.

"Goodwoman Charity," he said when a familiar face opened the door.

"Goodman Remus," Charity said as she let him in. "Lord Darcy told me that we should expect you. I should inform you, for the future, that the servants always use the rear entrance. But do not fear, you are not a servant yet."

Remus smiled. "Lord Darcy seems to think that I would be a good Groundskeeper for Lord London's country estate. I hope I can prove he's not wrong."

Charity smiled warmly and put her hand on his. "I must tell you, Goodman Remus. Lord Darcy strongly suggested that I permanently manage the country house. He said I would be helpful to you in your new job."

Remus looked at Charity's hand, and at her smile. "Is Lord Darcy trying to play matchmaker?"

"He was very open about it. He thinks we would work well together." Charity gave an impish grin. "Lord Darcy also told me I should inform you of his suggestion." She lowered her eyes and added softly. "As I thought about it, the idea began to seem quite pleasing."

Remus almost laughed. While the matronly woman was almost his age, she always seemed gruff if she did not get her way in running the house. But the idea had a certain appeal. It was an idea he had never dared to entertain before. "It seems . . . interesting. I will have to think about it."

Charity gave him a smile which transformed her face, and touched his heart. "Then come, Remus. Lord Bontriomphe will need to interview you. It is a mere formality."

The Remus Lupin who entered the library to meet Lord Bontriomphe was not the same man who had entered the house. This Remus Lupin was eager to live his new life.


"What will happen to him?" Harry asked after he and Robert returned with the Headmaster, arriving in Dumbledore's office.

Albus chuckled. "Lord Darcy, at his wife's urging, is trying his hand as matchmaker. It may not succeed, but Remus will have at least one friend he can talk to. And that is what he needs the most."

Robert took on a bemused look. "Um, Aunt Charity. It has a certain ring to it."

"A wedding ring," Harry mused. "If she has her way, brother."

"Then we should ponder a gift, brother. Something funereal, I should think."


John IV read the report in front of him. It was dire news. Naval Intelligence had managed to ensnare the spy, but the results were not expected. He looked up at the Chief of Naval Intelligence and frowned. The members of the council, seated at the table with him, said nothing.

"Captain Smollett, you are positive this is not a ruse? The Poles have schemes of their own"

"Your Majesty, we verified much of the information he gave us. It appears that the Turkics has an interest in what we are doing. From appearances, they wish to interrupt our efforts."

John IV frowned. The Caliph of Baghdad was the nominal ruler of the Turkic world. This consisted of most of Arabia and the northern coast of Africa as well as the southern part of Grenada. He had little authority in civil affairs, but he was powerful in the theaters of religion and war. John IV did not have to be told how he learned about the control stone, but he had to worry about what the Caliph intended.

"How is our knowledge?"

Captain Smollett smiled. "Quite up to date. All powerful men have enemies. This information we were given connected the points for us. We knew what they were doing. We now know why. Therefore, we may anticipate."

"With you approval, Your Majesty," the Lord High Admiral requested. "I am already placed the fleet on a war footing. We are calling all officers to active duty." He paused knowingly. "Do you wish any exceptions to this order?"

"Were it truly Our choice," His Majesty said heavily, "We should wish to exempt everyone. We know to whom you refer, but they must especially come."

The Lord High Admiral nodded. John IV paid his mind when military strategy was taught him. Both Somersets would be targets, but both could also be effectively used as bait, if they were used properly. Also, Lord Henry's reputation made him useful as a recruitment tool. As the conversation turned to the Field Marshall and other points involving the Army, the Admiral began to consider possibilities.

"Your Majesty, if I may interrupt?" he asked at one point, with no idea of what was being discussed. Nothing was said, but the entire group became quiet. "Your Majesty, it has been known for some time that both the Caliph and His Christian Majesty, the Emperor of Roumeleia, have been arming themselves for over a year in preparation for hostilities."

"Dear God In Heaven," Captain Smollett uttered. He suddenly understood the point his superior was about to make.

"I find it unusual that in the course of this buildup there has been no verifiable incident between the two. I suggest the possibility that both these governments are in secret alliance."

"But we have an agreement with Constantinople," The Lord Seneschal pointed out. "We have even dispatched a fleet to the eastern Mediterranean in case . . ." He paused. A treaty was only good as long as both sides wanted it to be. "They are sailing into a trap."

"How far away is the fleet from Constantinople, My Lord?" His Majesty's face was grave.

"Our timetable is to place the fleet in their waters the day after tomorrow. They are taking a leisurely pace, so that the smaller ships do not stray too far from the four dreadnaughts."

"Four?" Field Marshal Markham asked.

The Lord High Admiral nodded. "The Emperor asked for us to help with a show of force. It leaves us weak in the West but we do have the reserves and drydock at Marseilles. And we were planning on sending in a dreadnaught from the Atlantic fleet."

His Majesty sighed. "How quickly can they be recalled?"

The Admiral thought quickly. A teleson call to Dover. A cutter to race across the Channel. Another teleson call to Paris. He briefly damned the fact that no means had been found to lay a cable across the channel. "We could have the orders to Marseilles in less than half a day, but it would be three days more to reach the fleet with the faster ship available. That would be the quickest route."

King John pondered the situation, his mind flying on tangents to find anything useful. Then it settled on a young girl with bushy brown hair who had a curious cat.