Chapter 42 Aberdeen Rescue Mission

"Ready, Harry?"

Harry had met Cameron in the Entry Hall after Harry's last class before Christmas break.

"I guess," said Harry, looking back up the stairs.

"I think any student who looks so longingly toward the library is due for a break," said Cameron. "No luck figuring out what sort of curse might do it?"

"No. I've only had a few days to search," said Harry dourly, "and I really feel I should be back in the library working on it. I think it may have something to do with the sunglasses, but I can't find a curse that would cause this. I've tested several pairs for magical properties and I find nothing. I wish I had some help. I only know of a few people who aren't affected and I seem to be the only one taking all the fighting seriously."

"That's not really so, Harry," said Cameron gently. "The faculty understand your concern, and indeed share it, since their classes are so frequently interrupted with altercations. Even with that, I'm not sure as they've seen it as severely as you and a few others do, but they are all very busy, as is Dumbledore. As for other staff, there's Mr. Filch - and we can't tell if he's affected because he always acts cantankerous –, Madame Pomfrey – and she is too busy fixing the results of the curse and of training - and me. Let me assure you that you do not want MY help researching anything to do with spells and curses – potions, creatures and plants, maybe, but not spells and curses."

"I guess you're right Cameron: it'll have to be my project alone," admitted Harry. "It's just that if we don't find a way to put a stop to all this fighting amongst ourselves, we will be easy targets for Voldemort's attack and it will happen by the end of the school year. Can there be much more important than that?"

"Nae, of course not, Harry."

"The way things are looking, with the students unable to get along, Hogwarts would be destroyed in such an attack and all of us killed."

"You don't have to convince me that war is a bad thing. God does not want his children to fight, although my understanding is that fighting in defense of self or others is acceptable. I understand the stakes. But I also believe that God is watching over us and will guide us to what is right, if we just keep faith in him. My understanding also is that the Headmaster believes he already has his best man on the job."

"Well, at any rate, I seem to be the only one who can work on it. I just hope I'm good enough for the job."

"Hasn't Professor Dumbledore always seen to it that you have what you need?"

"I suppose. I just wish I knew where this was heading."

"If you knew, then there wouldn't be anything to work out."

"I give up. You're right, you're right, you're right. So shouldn't I spend the holiday in the library?"

"You need a break. Besides, Professor Dumbledore agrees with me that taking the better part of a fortnight to serve your fellow man in a different way will be useful to you, if only to let your head clear and get organized and get a new perspective on things."

"Okay, okay. So where are we going and how are we getting there?"

"We'll be taking the Floo Network to meet Arabella at my grandmother's house in Aberdeen. There'd be enough room there even if Grandmum wasn't in a nursing home. Grandmum is a muggle; Grandpa MacBoon was killed in the first war. It's a short walk to the bus stop to get to the Mission."

"I could just apparate us – both to the house and to the Mission."

"Nae," said Cameron. "I've been apparated before – I'll have none of it. It's the Floo Network for me. And no one at the Mission knows about magic and we're to keep it that way."

Harry sighed. "Okay, I'll do it your way."

"Lesson number 1," said Cameron cheerily, "acceptance and humility – sometimes we have to let go and accept others taking the reins."

"Okay then – letting go. Show me the way."

"That's the spirit."

They went to the main fireplace. Cameron took out a leather pouch with Floo Powder and together they were off to Aberdeen. Mrs. Figg was already there waiting for them and they immediately smelled a potion brewing. Cameron and Harry walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Figg was carefully but quickly preparing ingredients.

"Mandrakes, Arabella?" asked Cameron. "What kind of a potion is this? I thought we weren't going to be doing any magic-related work over Christmas."

"Ahh, Cameron, Harry, there you are," she said, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. "It's depetrification potion. It's a special supply Dumbledore asked for. I'm not sure why, but there are only a few things that can cause petrification, and all of them are horrid. I shudder to think that the enemy has gotten ahold of something as hideous as that."

"Mmm, yes," said Cameron, "but then Dumbledore'll be having his reasons."

"Yes," said Harry, trying to look concerned and mystified, even though he was certain it was so they would have an extra supply based on their own basilisk, "something like that would be awful."

"Well, the Mission called to see when we would be arriving. I told them I had womanly problems – that always works to but some time – and that I would send you two along as soon as you arrived."

"Okay, Arabella. We're off then," said Cameron. "We can bring our things upstairs when we get back; we've got them in the parlor out of the way. Any chance we could be having some of your famous shepherd's pie when we get back."

"Don't I know I've got to make that for you every time we get together, you silly lad? The things are all ready to assemble and sitting in the icebox. I just need to get this on a gentle simmer before I get to that. Some fresh-baked bread as well."

"Lovely," said Cameron.

"Sounds good to me," said Harry. "I thought this was going to be roughing it, but so far things are pretty cozy."

Mrs. Figg cocked her head at him. "Aye, I'll provide some comforts, Harry, but don't kid yourself. There's an ocean of work to be done at the Mission and they rarely have a strong young man such as yourself to do the heavy and difficult chores that ought to be done, so you'll be earning your bread."

"Heavy and difficult? Cameron, are you sure we can't use a bit of magic?" asked Harry.

"We'll see. We can't be caught with it, you know, but with some care…" Cameron winked. "Let's be off, then, the sun goes down early this time of year. See you on the evening, Arabella."

"Be careful, you two, neither of you are used to stoop labor."

Harry and Cameron had not even had a chance to take off their heavy cloaks, so they fastened them and headed to the bus stop. Cameron had already made a point of having the correct fare, so they were able to catch a bus and arrive at the Mission in short order.

Mrs. Figg had not been kidding about the work available for a young man. The Mission had three primary operations: a residential area with dorms for the clients, little used except in harsh weather, when it was full to overflowing; a dining hall to provide meals; and a counseling center, where clients were given assistance on alcohol and other drug abuse, mental and medical problems, and employment. Most of the work involved was performed by volunteers, generally middle-aged women and retirees of both sexes. Few if any were capable of the heavy lifting and other physical effort required for a thorough cleaning, significant repairs to the buildings, grounds maintenance, and reorganization of supplies. Some of these things had been attempted, but with the Mission rarely having an excess of workers available for the basic operations, many had been left undone in hopes that somehow extra volunteers would arrive and take care of them.

First, it was the mattresses of the dorms. They were not overly shabby, but they were all foul. Many of the clients only checked in to the dorms after they had drunk or drugged themselves into a stupor. The Mission volunteers were used to this. The clients would be helped to a bed and in the morning they would be encouraged to take a shower and exchange their old clothes for clean used clothing. However, due to the condition of the clients when they were placed on the beds, the mattresses were all stained with urine, blood, feces and vomit. A change of bedding removed much of these bodily substances and sponges were used to blot them off in the mornings, but what had soaked in was left to dry.

Harry was given a dolly, a smock and thick rubber gloves and asked to take all the mattresses outside to a shed, spray them with disinfectant and stain remover, and return them to the bunk bed frames after they had dried. He felt queasy seeing and smelling the nasty condition of the mattresses. Harry didn't so much mind moving the mattresses the muggle way. The exercise felt pretty good. But the stain remover did little on such old and repetitively applied stains and Harry didn't think there was enough disinfectant in the world to make him comfortable with the idea of lying on those mattresses. He felt bad about leaving the mattresses for the clients in a condition he himself would not have wanted to use them. It was also very time-consuming to spray them and let them dry.

To move things along, Harry found Cameron, who had been pressed into bathroom clean-up in the absence of need for his counseling, and who didn't much mind being interrupted from this duty for a good cause. Cameron stood guard at the shed door while Harry cleaned the mattresses magically. The only indication that they were not brand new was the fraying at the edges.

Cameron looked in on the first batch. "Uh-uh, Harry," he said, "too good. It's suspicious. Put some pale brown and green splotches on them."

Harry did so, and together they took the first group upstairs and loaded the dolly with more nasty mattresses. With the aid of both Cameron and magic, the job was done in a couple of hours, when it had been expected to be a ten-hour job. Harry felt good that the mattresses were decent enough to lie on.

Next Harry was asked if he had any maintenance skills and he told briefly of the many types of chores he had done around the Dursley home. He was given a long list of maintenance and repairs needed for the grounds and the buildings and asked to tackle the ones he could handle and had time for. It would have been short work by magic, but very few of the chores were sufficiently out of sight that he could do them that way. That was okay with Harry because it felt good to tackle the jobs the muggle way. He had the skills for nearly all of them, except plumbing and electric. These jobs took him the next four days, but he was able to take a much-appreciated break for the Sunday worship service at the Mission.

Cameron led the service, as it was the regular chaplain's time for a vacation as well. They sang hymns and said prayers. Cameron asked Harry to read the verses which were to be discussed in the sermon: the parable of the Prodigal Son from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 15. Cameron explained about God's forgiveness and compassion and that this is the grace of God – that all are God's children, and at times all have strayed from Him, but that anyone can be reconciled with God if he or she will only let go of the burdens which hold him or her back. Harry could see how this was a particularly appropriate sermon for the clients, but he also felt that there was much wisdom there for him as well.

After the service he asked Cameron about that feeling, and Cameron explained, "We all make mistakes or hold on to problems. This causes separation from God and is called sin. But God loves us and forgives us no matter what we have done. It's a message that everyone needs to understand. So yes, there was much there for you, Harry," then Cameron began pointing around the room, "and for him, and her, and Arabella, and me, and everyone – even Voldemort and his followers."

"I don't think they're listening to that message, Cameron."

"No, I'm sure you're right, but God is love and love is patient, and with God, all things are possible."