Chapter Twenty-Three
The Tinker in Spite of Himself
It had begun as a typical Christmas Eve, except that this year Corey had company. He had closed the shop early to let the clerks go home to their families and hurried to his new cottage at the edge of Haven Row, the name that his Muggle friends had given to their own little circle along the outer town on the other side of the hill where the Shrieking Shack once stood.
Garland hung on every door, and the snow glistened from the oversized candles placed in bowls upon every porch, some of them scenting the air with fresh pine and other holiday smells. Open curtains seemed to flaunt his neighbor's trees, decorated with all sorts of ornaments from traditional to obviously plastic. Even electric lights were hanging from some although they didn't actually work; it seemed too strange to them not to have them there. The candles upon them were anxiously tended, for Eliza and some of the others didn't quite trust the magic companies' claim that they wouldn't catch anything else on fire, despite a long list of safety test stamps.
His own house was quite modest on the outside and reminded him very much of the Broom Closet in many ways…especially since the greenhouse in the backyard was bigger in comparison. But inside, the house was warm and inviting, with a spacious living room and farm style kitchen big enough to act as a dining room as well and three bedrooms; two up under the triangular roof and one down.
Opting for light for her plants instead of extra room, Rose and Corey had quickly volunteered to take one of the upstairs rooms, leaving the larger one downstairs for her mother. It also, Rose privately reasoned, put them closer to the other bedroom, which she and her mother had intentionally left empty but clean, polishing the wooden floor there as they had throughout the house and giving the walls a fresh coat of neutral paint. So it became a constant habit in the mornings as they headed downstairs to glance in the open door of the room and share an enigmatic smile with each other before continuing down, but never speaking a word about it.
Downstairs, the poplar floors were covered with warm ornate rugs, while built-in bookshelves on either side of the main fireplace were filled with a collection of Herbology, Alchemy and History books that nearly rivaled the collection at Hogwarts. On top of the mantle sat a array of fancy carousel candles for the holidays, their sounds even now greeting him as he came in. But their sound was not nearly as warm as the pounce he received the moment the door was shut as Rose came in from the kitchen and leapt into his arms, kissing him passionately.
"Goodness, Rose! You could have at least waited until he had taken off his boots first!" Ashley clucked as she went past them to straighten the living room.
"No, I couldn't! See, Mother, mistletoe," Rose said mischievously, pointing above the door.
"As if you needed any excuse," Ashley said knowingly, putting away her sewing. "How was the shop? Busy?"
"Until the last hour or so," Corey said, still with his arms wrapped around his wife. "Fortunately it died off enough then for us to finish cleaning up and restock, what little there was of that."
"Thank goodness for Hogwarts. If it hadn't been for Pomona and Professor Dumbledore, I don't know where we'd be right now," Ashley said, heading back towards the kitchen.
"Broke and with nothing organic to sell, at least not plant life anyhow," Corey admitted as he and Rose followed behind her. "At this rate, we're going to be owing the school three or four years of free orders."
"I'm sure we'll manage," Ashley said, loading up the table. Immediately, Cheshire found his way out of his corner and was rubbing her legs insistently. "Now, you wait your turn," she chided the cat. "How long until this church meeting of yours?"
"Oh, that's not until late," Corey said as they sat down. "You really needn't go, you know, if you don't want to."
"Nonsense, of course we'll go," Ashley said, and Corey looked at Rose questioningly.
"I want to go as well. What with all the work lately, we haven't been spending much time with friends at all, and I would like to get to know yours better," Rose said.
"They're more than friends," Corey admitted quietly, staring at one of the tossed dandelion greens on his plate thoughtfully. "After my parents were killed and I found myself having to live a different life, they've become my strongest connection to the past…who my parents were…who my brother, sister, and I were. They've had a big influence on me over the years."
"And vice versa, it would seem, since they followed you here," Ashley said.
"Well, it wasn't me so much as it was their exposure to magic," Corey said, but Ashley merely smiled. "Although I admit that sometimes I still wonder if it had been right for us to expose them to all that."
"Personally, I think it's been good for both sides," Rose said.
"Maybe," Corey said thoughtfully. "But there are still a lot of people that oppose them being here."
"There are a lot of people who still oppose you being here, but I don't see you throwing in the towel," Ashley said.
"They would have to show me a lot more than red ink to make me do that, I've grown used to it," Corey chuckled. "By the way, we could use another case."
After dinner, the three of them settled into the living room, Rose gingerly taking down the book of Yule and Christmas myths and touching its binding thoughtfully.
"Rose, why don't you read out of it this year?" Ashley suggested gently. "Perhaps you should recite the first story, since Corey hasn't heard any of them before."
"That's right, you haven't, have you?" Rose said, sitting down. "We read one once a year, although I admit to asking for the same one more than once."
"Once is enough for me," Corey chuckled. "Are there a lot of them?"
"Fourteen, actually," Rose said.
"So if we stick with one a year, it'll get us past our Pumpkin Anniversary," Corey mused. He didn't miss the quick twinkle in Rose's eyes when she looked over at him.
"Then I suppose I'll have to save the best two for last so I can be sure you'll stick around that long," she teased, opening the book. But Rose had gotten no more into a couple of paragraphs into the story when there was a heavy knock at the door.
Ashley quickly got up to answer it, the other two peering in to see Jack Martin's ten-year-old son Johnny step in.
"Where's Mr. Willowby? He has to come quick!" Johnny said in such an agitated tone that Corey got up and came over to him.
"What is it?" Corey asked.
"They've got Father Pachem and the Dimples down at the lower field! I think they're planning to burn them!" Johnny said.
"What? Who?" Rose asked, paling.
"I don't know, a whole bunch of men in black hoods and a guy with a white skull mask on. You've got to do something!" Johnny pleaded, Corey immediately heading towards the door.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Ashley said, grabbing his arm.
"I'm going to save my friends. Stay here," Corey said, but Ashley stood in front of the door again.
"Oh, no you don't! I won't let you go out there and get yourself killed, not now, not tonight!" Ashley barked.
"I'm not letting my friends down! Especially not tonight!" Corey said, and when Ashley got in front of him again turned and went for the back door.
"Mum, let him go, he can take care of himself!"
"Yes, that's what I thought about Ryan. I won't have you leaving Rose alone!" Ashley said, pulling his arm again. Corey paused, gazing at her red, distraught face.
"Mum, we're not fighters. We'd just get in the way," Rose said, gently moving her arm. "Go help your friends, Corey."
Kissing Rose quickly, Corey hurried out the door. Rose smiled softly before gazing knowingly at her mother.
"I can't believe you would just let him go like that! He's going to end up getting killed!" Ashley said worriedly.
"Mum, you didn't really think I married him just because he was an alchemist, did you?" Rose said, but the anxious look didn't leave her mother's face.
Had Alex, Alicia, or Andrew been in Hogsmeade that night, the scene would have seemed strikingly familiar to them; for very much like the painting that had adorned the wall of the Pig's Pannage. This time, it was Father Pachem, old Eliza Dimple and her son Bart found were the ones tied to wooden pyres. Their expressions were serious, but none of them seemed afraid, despite the fact that two dozen hooded witches and wizards surrounded them.
Toby the Tinker stood in the darkness near the edge of the field. Normally, the candlelight from the houses and lanterns about the road would have made him quite visible; but for some reason, none of them were lit, despite the early hour. He stood calmly watching the scene, puffing gently upon a pipe, when suddenly he stuck his arm out and grabbed just as Corey was about to rush by him. It was amazing that Corey didn't cry out from sheer surprise, for he hadn't noticed the wiry figure until that instant.
"Ah, Mr. Willowby. Why don't you stay here with me for a moment," Toby suggested. Corey had no idea why his feet were still planted to the ground.
"No, I'm not just going to stand here! Someone has to do something!"
"Wasn't it you, Mr. Willowby, who taught your friends to take care of themselves? There was that business a couple years ago with the Devil's Snare…"
"They weren't tied to pyres then!"
"No, no, and it wasn't Christmas Eve," Toby said quietly. "Corey, your friends are in no real danger at the moment despite appearances, but you would be… very much so. I suggest you stay here with me. Someone may dangle a worm in front of a fish, but that doesn't mean the fish has to bite."
"Are you saying this was all a trap for me?" Corey said in alarm.
"Hush, now, it's best we not interfere. Watch and listen, Mr. Willowby," Toby said, relighting his pipe.
Corey turned anxiously back around, staring at the Death Eaters who formed a wide but perfect circle around the pyres. The masked white figure stepped away from them then, and Corey couldn't help to feel horror and sheer disbelief when he heard the unmistakable voice of Thomas Craw.
"I have been informed by my followers that you were asked to leave this town for your own safety on many occasions, is that correct?" the Skull said.
"We've had one town taken from us. We're not going to be forced from another," Eliza said proudly.
"From what I understand, none of you were asked to leave Haven's Bluff, merely the Wizardborn were," the Skull pointed out. "There was no call for you to come here and endanger yourselves by invading this Wizardborn town because of it."
"You speak as if you are concerned over our safety, and yet here we have been put in such a questionable position by you and your men," Pachem said.
"That's correct, because your safety is no longer our concern. Our concern is our own safety, and your corruption of what little society we have kept pure away from Muggle interference."
"So you pick on an old woman and a priest?" Bart said with disgust.
"Her life is not much of a loss even by your own standards, Muggle," The Skull said snidely. "And what a priest believes is meaningless to us. If there is a God, he turned against wizardkind a long time ago. For years, people have been accused and burned at the stake for being witches in his name, and even now such powers are seen by your kind as works of the devil."
"We are all God's children," Pachem said firmly. "And we all have gifts of different natures. It is what we do with them that matters."
"Yes, of course you would say that," the Skull said dryly. "The irony of it all was that we had ways of escaping such faulty persecution, so only Muggles were ever killed that way."
"And several saints," Pachem added.
"Call your martyrs what you will, I hardly think it matters. The dead by any name are still dead, and you three will prove the perfect demonstration for us, unless of course, you and all the other Muggles agree to leave Hogsmeade now and not return," the Skull said. "You really should consider it, I'm sure pride isn't worth the alternative."
"I can't speak for the rest of my neighbors, but I'm not leaving," Eliza said stubbornly.
"We don't negotiate with terrorists," Bart agreed.
"It is not we who would truly pay for your transgressions," Pachem said. "I truly pity what you all must live with within your souls if you carry this out. May God have mercy on you, son."
"Fool! There is no higher power than magic!" the Skull snarled. "It is our judgment you need to worry about! And now you will learn it well! Burn them!" he ordered, and several wands went out, all calling out, "Inflamare!"
Corey wanted to rush out there but for some reason he still couldn't seem to move, watching the surreal conversation with a sick feeling in his stomach. But when the spell was cast upon the pile, he stared as stunned as the rest of them when nothing, nothing at all came out of the wands.
Toby puffed gently upon his pipe.
Blinking in surprise, the Skull suddenly growled, whipping out a wand of his own and pointing it at the pastor's pyre.
"Inferno!" he called out, his face darkening as he intoned the dark fire spell, expecting it to burst into flame. But all that came out was a pitiful line of smoke that dissipated as quickly as it came. "What is going on?" he boomed.
"Apparently, magic isn't the highest power after all," Pachem said calmly.
Wait. I shall do it myself.
The words seem to come from all around them; cold, sharp, and quite inhuman. Suddenly, there was a flash as a bolt of lightning shot out of the clear night and forked to strike each pyre…but even though the wood blackened from the strike itself, not a spark was begun, and the three on the pyres were completely unharmed. Eliza looked at Pachem nervously.
"Told you not to pick on a priest," Bart said.
A loud roar erupted from around; the ground trembling and a hot wind whipping up as out of the darkness the shape of a furious dragon appeared.
"It's her. It's Ciardoth," Corey murmured, but the old man beside him seemed completely unconcerned, preoccupied with deeply inhaling on his pipe. Just then, Ciardoth dove and made a pass over them, taking a deep breath with the intention of blasting the pyres using all of her firepower, apparently not caring that many of the Death Eaters were going to be in the path of the flames as well. But at the last minute as she opened her maul she choked, and to everyone's amazement, nothing came out.
Angrily she pulled up short and roared, landing close by and lashing out at the wizards standing there at random. In a panic they Apparated for fear of their lives as the dragon's claws and tail began swiping in every direction. Finally there was a flash of light, and a tall, pale, golden-haired form appeared, clenching her fists and looking for a new target.
"Now would be a good time to save your friends," Toby advised Corey as he took a step forward.
"Did you do that?" Corey stammered unsurely. "How did you do that?"
"Ask your father," Toby suggested. "I will go keep her occupied while you get them."
"Keep her occupied?" Corey repeated, but the old Tinker had already begun to walk over to the field. Hesitating only momentarily, Corey worked to position himself closer but out of her view.
"Pardon me," Toby said the moment he got into range, "but would you happen to have the Time?"
"What?" Ciardoth snapped, turning to face him with eyes as cold as ice.
"I said, do you happen to have the time?" Toby repeated, enunciating each word. "I do not want to be late, you know. I'm a very busy man these days."
"Why don't I remember you?" Ciardoth asked, squinting. "Who are you?"
"Merely an observer, and perhaps a messenger," Toby said. "I wouldn't worry about not remembering me. I'm truly insignificant in all of this. But perhaps if I tell you my message, you may remember it."
"Then be out with it, before I strike you where you stand!"
"Well, if what just happened is any example, I highly doubt you can at the moment," Toby said. "But never mind. I'm quite willing to give you my message, and it is this. There are very great powers in this universe, Ciardoth. More powerful than you or even I could truly begin to fathom completely. It is a universe that favors mortality and the cycle of rebirth… and yes, death, and ultimate destruction is as much a part of that circle as anything. But what you do not understand is that if were you to succeed in defeating and torturing your enemies, destroying yourself and everything tangible along with it…and I must admit even now that that still may be a possible outcome… such destruction would not be permanent. The phoenix is more than just a magical bird; it is the purest symbol of what this universe is all about. Destruction here is never complete no matter how things might seem, for out of the ashes will only come a new definition of life."
"I will succeed in destroying all," Ciardoth said coldly. "There will be no rebirth. I will see that the cycle is broken permanently!"
"Well, there's only one way to break that cycle, and I'm afraid you're not going to make it happen the way you're going about it," Toby said, taking out a watch. "By the way, were you aware that it is nearly seven o'clock on the first full moon after the Solstice? It's going to rise soon, you know."
Suddenly, Ciardoth's eyes shone with alarm as a memory suddenly came to her and there was a quick flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder following after as she disappeared into the darkness. Sighing and shaking his head to himself, Toby turned the contents of his pipe out into the snow and quickly stamped it out.
As Corey and Bart helped Eliza off the woodpile, he saw the bright flash of light, and as the four of them hurried to check on the old tinker, the flickering of candles caught Corey's eyes as the holiday decorations suddenly sprang back to life. Then, like a row of dominoes, the lamps along the road were relit, and Corey found himself squinting suspiciously at Toby.
"Look! Isn't that Dumbledore?" Bart said, pointing to a figure walking down the road towards them. "I wonder how long he's been standing there?"
"Well, I like that! A powerful wizard in our midst and not a hand does he raise to help us!" Eliza said indignantly, but Corey nudged her.
"Happy Christmas," Toby said cheerfully when Dumbledore walked over to them.
"I am glad to see that everyone here is well. We've been very worried but I had to deal with a problem of my own," Dumbledore explained.
"So you did," Toby nodded, the others watching the exchange curiously. "But as you can see, there was no need to be concerned."
"So I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Care for some tea at the Brooms, Mr. Toby?"
"Of course. It'd probably do me a bit of good, after all the excitement." Toby agreed, the two of them leaving Corey to take care of his friends.
"So, I see you've been tinkering," Dumbledore said once they were out of their hearing range.
"No, that's not what I would call it, exactly," Toby mused, Dumbledore waiting patiently for him to continue. "Albus, I made a promise to myself as well as to you that I would not in any way interfere with what's going on. I have full intentions of keeping that promise."
"Then, what, might I ask, was it that you were just doing?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
"I was simply making certain that a situation didn't escalate to a point in which I would have to break a promise," Toby explained calmly. Dumbledore glanced sideways at him but decided not to reply.
Despite the fact that her sleeping bag was as comfortable as a well-stuffed cot, Alex had trouble settling in the corner that had been made for them in Dumbledore's study. They had spent the earlier part of the time reading out of the Dickens' book, but their Father's pacing had been quite unnerving, not to mention that they themselves were worrying about if any of their things were stolen. But at least she didn't have to worry about their grandfather. Not long after they arrived, Aurelius had a quiet word with his father and was allowed to leave, although Severus constantly checked his watch until Aurelius returned, nodding at him before coming back to his corner.
"Well, that's done then. I was able to contact grandfather and warn him not to go home," Aurelius told them.
"But where was he?" Alicia asked.
"Safe. He's going to stay with a friend," Aurelius assured her. Alicia nodded slowly.
"I bet that's going to get old quick for whoever puts him up, he's not exactly easy to live with," Alex said.
"Well, neither are you, but we tolerate it," Aurelius retorted.
"Some Christmas, eh? Alex, break out a book," Andrew suggested, and that was how they attempted to futilely salvage their holiday.
At eight o'clock Professor Dumbledore returned, and after a very short whisper to Severus, Jennifer and the two of them went to his private sitting room to talk for a while, finally coming back out again nearly an hour later. That was when the four students looked up and noticed the four sleeping bags beside them.
"We're going to go do some extra security checks throughout the castle," Severus explained to them. "The chain is still occasionally indicating that we are being watched, even here. I would suggest that none of you speak of any sensitive subjects without taking out the worry stones I made you. We don't know how long this will take, so the four of you will stay here with Fawkes for now. Hopefully we can at least go over our rooms thorough enough that we can move you to there. With the limited staff and students, it will be unlikely that you will be sleeping in your houserooms for the remainder of the holiday, but I'm sure we can work something out."
"For the remainder of the holiday? But when are we going to be allowed to go home?" Alex asked.
"I don't know," Severus admitted. "Right now, it's obviously out of the question." With that he left to join Jennifer and Dumbledore who had walked ahead, and the four of them looked between each other glumly, not much in the mood to read anymore.
"Well, I suppose we ought to set these up," Andrew said at last, dragging one of the bags over.
"I can't believe they actually expect us to sleep in here," Aurelius sighed.
"Well, at least you're dressed for it," Alicia teased.
"Don't remind me! I'm going to have nightmares for the rest of my life about having to traipse into the school in Andrew's night shirt," Aurelius scowled, but all the others were grinning.
"Suppose Dumbledore would notice if we raided the candy dish?" Andrew suggested.
"How can you think of eating now? Can't you think of anything else? We're spending our Christmas Eve in Dumbledore's study!" Alex said, unhappily putting a bag beside Alicia's and slipping inside miserable.
"Well, at least we have a home this time," Alicia said, lying down. Everyone felt uncomfortable then, not wanting to talk about what had caused them to lose their last one.
"Yeah," Aurelius whispered at last. "But will we ever feel safe going back again?"
