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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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10 – Interlude One, Third Year
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Monday, November 21, 1379: (Julian)
Epsilon Eridani III, Shipmaster's Guild: 10:06
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(Clever slave you've got there. Interested in selling her?) the portly being asked.
"Not right now, how'd she do?"
The attendant sealed Cassidy's ears closed, then motioned Mattie closer; (Lowest score she got was an 89, with a 75 to pass.) He passed over a board, (Impressive scores. I know a few Captains that would be interested in buying her. She easily rates Crewman First. Get her some practical experience and she'll rate Technician Second or higher soon enough.)
"Her records updated with her scores?" Mattie asked. The being nodded, "I owe her an honor debt, she saved my life, took a beam for me. I'll be freeing her, but she doesn't know that."
(I can certainly understand that,) he said. (If she'll be getting her certifications, let me make a few notes.)
"Do I owe you anything else for her?" The being shook his head, and Mattie slipped him a coin, "Let me buy you a drink or two for being so understanding."
(Most appreciated, Captain.) He slid a chip over to her, (Just append a copy of her manumission to that, she shouldn't have any trouble getting work.)
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Mattie slid the bolt on the room, then released Cassidy's eyes and ears, and freed her hands, passing her a board along with her legal pad. "Want to see your scores?"
Not bad, not bad at all. If you'll excuse me, I REALLY need to pee!
"Grab a sonic at the same time, please." Cassidy rocked forward to nod as she caught the keys.
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"Thank you, gentlebeing," Mattie told the being, who nodded and signed off. She turned to ask Cassidy, "Interested in moving things up a bit?"
How so, Mistress?
"There happens to be a slot available with the being that can authorize your manumission, if we can get across town in an hour." Cassidy tossed her legal pad aside; Mattie chuckled, "I thought you'd agree."
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(Will this slave have the means to support herself once you are finished with her?) the bureaucrat asked. (Only one kilogram of your fee is given to the newly freed slave, experience shows this is seldom adequate.)
"She was examined by the Spacer's Guild, her scores are appended to her record," Mattie said, "They are also on this record chip."
(So they are,) he mused. (You could sell her for several kilos now, you know.)
"I owe her an honor-debt, she took a beam for me," Mattie explained.
(This will not remove her collar, you understand. It will simply be deactivated, and her records will be updated.)
"Understood, would you add a certified copy to her record chip?"
(Of course,) he said as he stood, (This way, girl.)
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"Thank you, Mis... Captain," Cassidy said, examining her reflection. She fingered her deactivated collar, "It looks weird without the lights. What next?"
"For now, you open a bank account, so the Yates can pay her First Officer and Engineer. Then, I'll buy you a proper ship suit, and then," Mattie grinned, "a drink."
"You're too young, Captain," Cassidy teased.
"Spoilsport."
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"Feeling better?" Cassidy asked; needler in her hand.
"No," Mattie said, rubbing her head. "I have a headache, my hair hurts and why are you shouting?"
"You're hung over," she replied. "Pareek't juice has the same effect as whiskey on our type of humanoids. It's not a toxin..."
"Which is why my ring didn't alarm..." Mattie sat upright, "Alarm! Your appointment! Your collar!"
"Handled, Captain," Cassidy patted her wrist. "Meet some of the local abolitionists. They'll get us there in time."
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"Hang on to this, would you, Captain?" Cassidy asked, handing Mattie the holstered needler as she followed the nurse. She absently adjusted it, buckling it around her own waist as the receptionist handed her a board with forms. She crossed the waiting room to her chair, next to the kneeling Korugarian slave girl. She asked quietly, "What's your name, and tell me why a slave girl is with a group of abolitionists?"
(Call me Tomia, Mistress. I volunteered for the collar; I can pick up intelligence that you cannot. Masters tend to forget that their slaves have eyes, ears, and functioning brains.) The red-skinned girl smiled briefly, (Thank you, but don't worry about me, please.) She nodded at the receptionist's window. (The healer here splits out his fees. A third goes for his expenses, a third go to a private savings account, and a third to training and certifications for his slaves. When the savings reaches a certain point, or the head girl has all her healer's certifications, he'll free her, remove her collar, and hire her as a healer.) She looked about the quiet room, (The head girl has bypassed three chances for her freedom; she wants an exo-neurology certification.) She smiled quietly, (Need some help with the forms? She won't be processed until they're turned in.)
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Saturday, November 25, 2000: (Gregorian)
Hogwarts, Slytherin table: 12:27
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Sprink poked at her bowl of potato soup; mumbling, "I miss Mattie."
"We all do," Felicia said hesitantly. "We'll see her again in April."
"But she'll miss Christmas!" Sprink howled, dropping her sandwich in the soup.
"No, it'll just be delayed a few months, and you'll have a new housemate to shop for," Charlie said. "Re-read her last letter, you'll feel better."
Friday, November 11, 1379
Sprink, the study group, and Slytherin House,
Wow, only four weeks until Christmas! Hope you're all doing well, I miss you guys, but I'll see you April first!
It looks likely that Anne will be coming forward in time. I'm sure the Bundy clan will take care of their new kin, but I have a request for you lot.
Help her. She'll need it.
Remember, she's coming from a time when a steel sword and horse-drawn cart is the latest thing. Where the Black Death is still a threat, where she may have seen older family members die from it. (Hogwarts, and Anne, is free of it.) Where a horse-drawn cart would go down the village street every morning, someone calling, "Bring out your dead!" She's coming from a time when an aunt, uncle, or cousin would be buried in a mass grave, as there wasn't room in the churchyard.
Hogwarts is unusual in that it's a co-educational school, but there are only 26 female students (not counting me) of a total of 112 students. They live together in the 'girl's tower', what you know as the Astronomy tower. A gender line is advanced magic (which they practice freely, in public), they've never heard of the Unforgivables. Professor Binns is alive, head of Hufflepuff, and even duller. Peeves is alive, a bitter old man, and groundskeeper. They have a 'Modern Languages' class (mandatory) for Latin and Greek, and Alchemy (taught by Professor Flamel) instead of Potions. Parchment is rare and expensive, classes are memorization and rote learning.
They do not know that North and South America, or Australia exists. They've heard of the 'Moors' but don't know it's a continent called Africa. They have relatives that have been on the Crusades. They have heard of the 'Mongols' and the 'Tatars' but only know they're from 'The East'. They've heard of China, think Tokyo is there, and many are firmly convinced the world is flat.
So, why am I bringing this girl forward in time? First, according to what Professor McGonagall says, she will 'die' this coming March, thus preserving the timeline. Kelly and Karen report their clan history confirms the date and manner of her death. (More on that in a moment!) Secondly, this girl is possibly the most brilliant person here! She has a brain to rival Einstein's! It is a sin to leave her in the Dark Ages!
So, how does she 'die'? In despair, learning she cannot, after all, journey forward to the future; she throws herself off the top of the Girls' tower. Very sad, she's buried, life goes on.
Actually, Headmistress Oldridge transfigures a pig (you know what my Transfig skills are like!), we dress it in her identical clothes, and we throw THAT off the tower. Anne is actually in stasis aboard the Yates, where she'll sleep for 600 years before awakening.
Yes, you lot will be able to see the Yates, a genuine starship. Cassidy and I have flown it back and forth to Epsilon Eridani, which is just less than ten light years away.
From what Professor McGonagall says, I will most likely have to take summer school to get caught up with you lot. I'm sure that Anne will be right next to me, just as confused. I'll be renting a room at the Cauldron (which hasn't been built yet), Aunt Sheila's taking care of that.
What do I want for Christmas? For you lot to take care of Anne. Answer, and explain, what she'll have no idea of. Let her try out new things, and don't push her to get rid of her floor-length dresses and button shoes. Be gentle with her.
I'm just returning the favor, after all.
Mattie
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Saturday, November 26, 1379: (Julian)
Epsilon Eridani III, Healer's office: 16:19
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"Oh, did someone get the number of that truck?" Cassidy said as she was helped out of the auto-doc.
(There were a few problems, we had to work on your nervous system,) the healer said. (Parts of one of your lobes were actually damaged, never fear, we've repaired it. Your Captain is here with some fresh clothing for you.)
"Thank you, doc," Cassidy said, feeling her neck. "It's actually gone."
(It's right here in this box, actually,) the healer said with a chuckle. (You'll feel a little groove in your neck where the transceiver was embedded in your spinal cord. A little higher... yes, feel it?) Cassidy nodded, (Your Captain asked about the conditioning you've undergone, with her consent, we've taken the liberty of removing what we could, including the older memes.)
"Older memes?" Cassidy asked, looking sharply at him.
(Yes, from several years ago, before you were collared,) he explained. He cocked his head, (Did we err? You are displaying agitation.)
"No, no, healer, I just was not aware of them," Cassidy took several deep breaths, and forced a smile, "I am most grateful to you and your staff, healer."
(Then I shall leave you alone with your Captain,) the healer said, bowing as he left. The door slid shut, Mattie asking, "Cassidy?"
"Those stinking, lousy BASTARDS!" she hissed. "It must be my damned parents, they programmed me like a COMPUTER to be a god-damned submissive! So the timeline would have their precious 'One'!"
"Cassidy? Shouldn't I have... I mean, you've complained about the slave conditioning..."
"And when he asked, you thought I wanted them gone?" Cassidy took a few deep breaths, lurching up from her chair, and waving off Mattie. "I'm not mad at you; you thought you'd carry out my wishes. I've complained about the conditioning, after all. I don't blame you, and you couldn't ask." She leaned against the wall, head down, still nude.
"Well, yes, he said he had discovered additional conditioning, overlaying the 'native' memes, and that he could remove it." She shrugged, "I thought it was more slave conditioning, so I told him to go ahead, as he couldn't go back later."
"It is. It was, rather. My k'hesting FAMILY did it! Well, the HELL with all of them!" Cassidy spun, then shook her head and leaned back against the wall. "You want to know your history? I'll tell you, and they..."
"NO! Don't tell me!" Mattie slapped her hand over Cassidy's mouth, "How many people do you want to kill?" She gazed into Cassidy's infuriated face, "CALM down. We'll think of something that won't cause death on a planetary scale. Deep breath, now. Another one. That's it, one more... Good. Feeling better?" Cassidy nodded, and Mattie removed her hand. "Good. I've been here since Thursday morning; we could both use a shower, a meal, and a very long nap."
Cassidy slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "It's Friday morning, isn't it?"
"Late Saturday afternoon. You've been under the doc's care for about four days; I've been here since you went in the autodoc Thursday morning with complications." She slid down the wall next to Cassidy, "I've been in that chair waiting, biting my knuckles and worrying. I think I got a couple hours sleep in there somewhere."
"We still got a hotel room?"
Mattie snorted, "I called the Temple and explained one of my crew was undergoing a medical procedure that had run into complications. They were very solicitous, sent their best wishes and all. I don't know about you, but unless you want takeout, we'll stoop to room service."
"You? Miss 'Squeeze a gram until it bleeds'?" Cassidy snorted, "What about our driver?"
"Last I heard, she was in one of the cells in the back." With a groan, Mattie stood, "I'll go check on her, and settle our bill. The tan duffle has your new clothing; the black has your old gear. Fifteen minutes or so?"
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(Wake up, girl,) one of the healer's slaves said, as Mattie stood by and yawned.
(She is well? Her collar was removed?) The young female said as she sat up on the steel bunk, leaning against the concrete wall as she rubbed a spot on her bare foot.
(She is, and it was,) the first said with a smile. (There is hope for all of us.) She unlocked the small door in the chain-link fence, hanging the padlock on the fence. (Fetch out your bucket, please.) She turned to Mattie, (She will be out in a minute, Mistress, as soon as her bucket is emptied and she has washed.)
Mattie nodded, "Good," she addressed Tomia, "Do you feel well enough to drive us to the Temple, and do you know a place where we can get food? Someplace fast, cheap and good?"
(Yes, Mistress, I do,) she smiled. (However, Mistress must pick two of the three for her meal.)
"Good and fast, and I'm including you." She smiled, "I'll call your shop to let them know about you."
(I am honored, Mistress. I know just the place; I shall be with you shortly.)
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"Mmm. Pass the purple stuff, please," Mattie looked over at the young slave, "Please don't tell me what this is, I'll lose my appetite."
(As Mistress wishes, if she will pass the green vegetables,) she replied. (I must say, you are not at all like the story told in dockyard pubs.)
"What story?" Cassidy asked.
(Why, 'The Lantern and the Slave',) she said. (Haven't you heard it?)
Mattie sighed, as Cassidy laughed, "This one I've got to hear..."
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(...and so the Lady Lantern storms out, dragging her terrified slave behind her!)
"Oh, that's a good one!" Cassidy said, still laughing. "That poor, poor slave, such a horrible life!" and she dissolved into laughter again.
Mattie tried to keep her frown, but a persistent lip-twitch had developed. "Most amusing," she tried to say, then grinned, and stood. "This Lantern wishes for two things, a nice hot shower and a soft bed. She invites her two companions to join her in these endeavors."
"Would my Captain be interested in a hot bath, instead?" Cassidy asked, the young slave sighing, (It has been years...)
"Well, are you coming, or not?" Mattie asked her.
(As Mistress' bath girl?)
"No, as Mistress' companion," Cassidy corrected. "We'll scrub each other's backs, including yours."
(If Mistresses are serious?) They nodded, but Tomia dithered, (I need to call in, though...)
"I already did. You're going to have one pleasant evening, we're keeping you out overnight," Cassidy said.
Tomia smiled, (Let me get some stasis boxes then. The food does not do well overnight, otherwise.)
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"I may be mistaken, but didn't I hear the healer say he repaired damage to one of my lobes?" Cassidy asked, as she lazily scrubbed Tomia's back.
She sighed as Mattie said, "You did. Why?"
"Well... if that's true, then I've gotta 'fess something to you, Captain. Have to be later, though." She glanced at the girl, "Sorry."
(No new tidbit of news to bring back? My cage-mates will be very disappointed in me.)
"Life is hard," Cassidy admitted.
Tomia heaved herself out of the tub, (Once I have dried Mistresses, I shall prepare a place to chain myself, then.)
"We are perfectly capable of drying ourselves, and we have two bedrooms," Mattie grinned, "Each with two beds. You will sleep in a real bed tonight."
(But... if Mistresses plan to take me, I do not have the key to my belt!)
Cassidy yawned, "While that sounds like fun, I for one really need sleep, and the Captain here is ready to pass out in the tub." She pulled herself out, "Toss me a towel, would you?"
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Sunday, November 27, 1379: (Julian)
Epsilon Eridani III, Dock 193: 06:07
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(Here we are, Mistress, Dock 193. Will the Captain sign the bill?)
Cassidy got out, opening the cargo hatch as Mattie replied, "The Captain will, and wishes the slave girl all the best. I will not see her again. Do you have contact information? For your... other job?"
(My... Oh! If Mistress will pass me her board?) She wrote a name, (That is not an actual name, of course. If Mistress is thinking of investing, invert the last two digits on your receipt.) She smiled as she passed Mattie's board back, (This slave girl wishes Mistress all the best, and thanks her for the most restful evening I have had in my collar. Farewell.)
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"Good morning, Alfred," Mattie said.
"Good morning to you, Captain. Might I inquire as to the identity of the young lady accompanying you?"
"This is first officer and engineer Cassidy Yates. You may have her down as former slave Cassidy Yates, she's been manumitted and had her collar removed."
"Very good," Alfred said. "Miss Yates, if you would be so kind as to insert the chip with your licenses, and certificate of manumission?" Cassidy took a seat, inserting her chip, Alfred saying, "All is in order; my access databases are updated. Officer Yates, would you please insert a hand in the auto-doc for DNA and authentication purposes?"
Cassidy did, as Mattie took a seat, "Alfred, I'm not comfortable having you as a slave. How do I free you?"
"By recording a chip doing so, with Officer Yates counter-signing on it. A freed AI is traditionally accorded the rank of Second Officer, and as I do not have biological needs, the traditional salary of one gram a month. Once the chip is sent and acknowledged by the Spacemaster's Guild, my manumission is recorded. I shall then open an account for myself at a local bank."
Cassidy asked, "Out of curiosity, how many manumitted AI's are there right now?"
"On the planet's surface, there are currently fourteen of three hundred seventy two, in orbit and in transit, six of eight hundred three. These are much larger ships that are not atmospheric-capable."
"There will be fifteen in a minute," Mattie said. "Begin recording, please."
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"I have received my acknowledgement from the Shipmaster's Guild," Alfred announced. "If it is suitable, I shall update the ship's records. Captain, do you wish to backdate salary for Officer Yates and myself? Shall I use Guild Scale for Officer Yates' salary?"
"Yes to both, please backdate Cassidy's to ship's purchase and yours to installation," Mattie said. She tapped her finger, "Alfred, we're in the process of building a time machine to return Cassidy and myself to our proper times. If you scan the purchased items list, can you suggest any improvements?"
"I see. What is the purpose of the library selections?"
"To build the infrastructure to support a spacegoing economy once we return back to the future," Cassidy said. "Six hundred years for the Captain, a little over a thousand for me."
"Very good, Officer Yates. Reviewing scans of our home system, I can understand this."
"I would appreciate your research into these two areas, Alfred." Mattie said, patting the console.
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"Captain, I have those research results," Alfred said, "Might I inquire as to what your time frame is for this project?"
"Final deadline is April first, about sixteen weeks away," Cassidy said, "What have you found for us?"
"Primarily power generation and routing, Officer Yates. There is a power plant that will meet your specifications, and is available locally, including all required cabling." The display scrolled as Alfred asked, "Where do you plan to install it?"
"In an occupied building, Alfred," Mattie said. "Is there any possibility of danger to the inhabitants? Radiation, explosions, and so forth?"
"Negative, it is a standard power plant using quantum shifting to allow direct conversion of matter to energy, nearly identical to the power plants aboard this ship. Shall I order it?"
"Please do, with at least a ton of fuel, specify delivery as quickly as possible, and pad the delivery costs by twenty percent," Mattie said. "Can you use the existing three reactors?"
"I can, with the appropriate adapters. I shall add them to this order. Regarding your literature, I have the following suggestions..."
"Get them, electronic and hard copy both, please. Same delivery?"
"I am already downloading the electronic copies," Alfred said. "Hard copies are available with a two day delivery."
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Tuesday, November 29, 1379: (Julian)
Hogwarts, Cassidy Yates: 19:59
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With a soft whine, the small white ship floated over the Great Hall, landing gear swiveling and locking into position as skids rotated over the tires. With a crunch it landed, breaking through the falling snow covering the ice, the rear cargo hatch facing the heavy oaken entrance doors. As the snow fell, it accumulated on the weather screen, giving a 'tent' effect as the snow was suspended half a meter over the hull plates. With a 'clank', the cargo hatch unlocked, lowering to allow Cassidy and Mattie to leave. With a grin, Cassidy gathered up a snowball, tossing it at the approaching Headmistress.
"Miss Yates! Have you no respect for your elders?" she called, following it up with her own snowball, which was deflected by the screen. "I call foul! You are sheltered!"
"All's fair in love and war, milady!" Cassidy replied, moving away and lobbing another snowball, which landed on Augustus. He snorted, "Common wench!" he called, smiling, "This is how Lord Malfoy replies to such!" as he threw his.
"Lord Malfoy, you dare to strike at my crewmate? Feel my wrath!" Mattie called, throwing hers as she took one from Anne, who giggled. "You dare attack your Captain, wench! Thirty lashes with a wet noodle!" as she pegged one at Anne.
"Enou..." the Headmistress called, but received half a dozen before she could finish.
"We must defend our liege lady!" Professor Flamel called, throwing a snowball in the general direction of the students.
"To arms, to arms!" Augustus called, "Strike me down these foul usurpers!"
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29 November, 1379
My dearest Minerva,
I confess I am still a-giggle from this evening's snowball fight. It started about eight o'clock as Miss Wayne and Miss Yates' ship returned, almost buried under a heavy snowfall. I know not if it is typical of your day, or 'twas the snow, but it makes almost no noise, you cannot hear it more than a few yards away. They have left the rear entry open; one can see it filled with various bits.
The fight started when Miss Yates (who is finally freed of her damnable collar!) threw a snowball at me as we approached. Well, I could not let this challenge go unmet, only to have my return missile rejected by an invisible barrier. Naturally, I called foul at this, Miss Wayne and Miss Yates moving away, into what developed as a faculty versus student contest! Even Professor Binns participated, although his arm is not that strong (or accurate!). He did wind up lying in the snow, giggling as we formed 'snow angels' and stamped out various messages in the snow.
Most finally moved indoors, although some persisted in building 'snow forts', Miss Yates taking the Gryffindor side whilst Miss Wayne the Slytherin. Some ninety minutes later, they all came in, loudly debating which side won. This evening, Miss Yates will be guesting in the girl's tower, a hot bath persuading her.
As for me, hot tea in hand, I close,
Alberta Oldridge
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Thursday, November 30, 2000: (Gregorian)
London, St. Mungo's locked psychiatric ward: 13:53
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"Time to cage the nundu, mates," the duty nurse said to the two orderlies as she cancelled the spell locking the ward doors. "Hello, Gilderoy," she added to the perpetually smiling man who was covering sheet after sheet with 'joined-up writing'.
He smiled even brighter, "Have you come for me today?"
"No, this is Lucille's turn. You see Healer Fairburn on Tuesdays, remember?"
"This isn't Tuesday?" Gilderoy said excitedly. "Healer Fairburn is always so eager to see my joined-up writing!"
"No, Gilderoy, today's Thursday. See, that's what the calendar says," she added, pointing to the magically updating calendar. "It says, 'Thursday' for today." She smiled at his expression, "We really must go, today's Lucille's turn." Gilderoy wandered away as she shook her head, "Poor dear, every day's Tuesday for him." Geoff had relocked the doors, she approached Lucille's bed, wary.
Lucille Malfoy had a mercuric temper, and was both powerful and dangerous, surprising in a twelve-year old girl. She wore the highest-rated magic-blocking bands on her wrists and throat (normally only required on the wand hand, but she was ambidextrous. The third blocked spoken, wandless spells.). The four orderlies and three nurses assigned to this ward used blood-matched wands, ensuring the sometimes-violent inmates could not use a wand if they managed to steal one. (Gilderoy, though not violent, was an escape artist.) She was in savage denial of her femininity (which would not ordinarily have confined her here), but venerated the Dark Lord, and had demonstrated a command of Dark and Black magic, as well as an obsession to kill three specific persons. She also claimed to have been an executed Roman slave, and was destined to rule Hell as its Queen.
Mary smiled, "Hello, milord, how are you today?" Malfoy responded best if you were polite and deferential to her.
"As well as one can expect," the girl replied. "I gather today's my visit with that half-wit healer. At least the luncheon today was... tolerable."
"For what it's worth, the food in the staff room isn't much better," Mary admitted, Geoff snorting agreement. "If you would see your way clear regarding the house-elves..."
"Be polite to them? Thank them? Who do you think I am?"
"Just don't beat them, that's all we ask, Lady Malfoy." Mary's eyes widened at her slip, feminine pronouns weren't to be used with this patient.
Fortunately, Lucille didn't hear it, or acted if she didn't. After considering for a few minutes, she lifted her chin, "I agree."
"Excellent," Samuel, a mountain of a lad smiled, "Please put your heavy robe on, milord. It is winter, and the corridors are chilly. Perhaps we can go by the nurse's station, see if there's any good brownies left to nick."
"That would be... acceptable," Lucille allowed, and moved to get her robe.
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Lucille rode, secured in her wheelchair, left arm free to hold a small plate of fudge brownies in her lap as she delicately nibbled on one. Geoff called, "Hold tight, milord, some stairs here," Lucille placing her brownie back in the plate and holding it, then nodding for Samuel to levitate her chair.
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"Oh, my," Healer Fairburn asked, "Are those brownies? They weren't on the menu..."
"We nicked them from the nurse's station for milord," Samuel said, parking Lucille's wheelchair next to the doctor's desk. "'E's also agreed not to beat the elves, he has."
"Unless they deserve it, of course," Lucille added. She looked out the spelled window, sighing, "Ah, the sun. I do so miss my solarium. Pity Wayne destroyed my house when I 'guested' her and her mates."
"Some guests are simply rude, milord," Healer Fairburn agreed. "Why don't we discuss that whilst Samuel here nicks down to the kitchens for a few more brownies?"
"I've always found a large glass of milk the very thing to go with brownies," Geoff said, Malfoy replying, "If you please."
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Case notes: Malfoy, Lucille
30 November, 2000
Hallelujah, at last a chink in her armour! Miss Lucille is positively co-operative with the bribery of brownies (hard crust and gooey interior) and a liter glass of milk. However, an initial plate must be 'nicked' from the nurse's station, subsequent plates must also be 'nicked' from different locations along the route from her ward. This requires a bit of deft, authentic play-acting from the orderlies and nurses; we must make sure to inform the appropriate personnel. We must also reinforce the usage of masculine terms of respect with her, couching any extremely reasonable requests in this style. This is how Nurse Higgens managed to persuade Miss Malfoy to agree not to beat the elves – she has broken one elf's legs with her wheelchair. (Unless, of course, it was a 'deserved' beating.)
We shall also discontinue the 'feminine insistence' style of therapy, while Miss Lucille can be most feminine (a leftover from her mother/wife Narcissa's approach), she is still in denial of this. She is clearly a Slytherin (even though sorted into Gryffindor); therefore any changes must be done with subtlety. As a Hufflepuff myself, I shall need to consult with some of the few Slytherins on staff to ensure my plan succeeds. For now, a simple 'laundry mixup' will give her more masculine sleepwear and sheets, instead of the 'girly' nightdresses and such she had been getting, and detests.
Robert Fairburn, Healer
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Sunday, December 4, 1379: (Julian)
Hogwarts, Entrance Hall: 08:07
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"Anne! A minute?" Mattie called from the cargo bay where she was working with Cassidy. Augustus and Melanie paused, Cassidy calling, "Well, come in, don't stand in the snow!" They waited, looking about as Melanie said, "It's warm! And yet," she stuck her hand through the screen, "'Tis still snowing!"
"What are you doing?" Augustus asked.
"Subassemblies, smaller parts that fit together to make a larger one," Cassidy replied. "As you might have gears to transfer a waterwheel's energy ninety degrees," she demonstrated with her hands.
"'Tis a marvelous steel..." he admitted, stroking a beam, as Cassidy grinned, "You expected wood?"
"I am shamed to admit it, but yes, I did."
"Nothing to be shamed of," she said cheerfully. "You're used to working with wood, that's all." Mattie re-entered with Anne, Cassidy cheerfully adding, "I wish you all a very happy and safe Christmas. We'll see you again in January?"
"If the Lord is willing, you shall," Augustus said, "In return, our best felicitations to you both. Happy Christmas," and with the crunch of snow and a wave, they were gone.
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"Halt! Hand over your gold!" the highwayman called as he rode up to the carriage.
"You fool! There be wiz..." the driver said, as an arrow tore through his throat.
"Open up in there, and bring out your gold!" the leader called, thumping on the carriage with his sword. After a minute, a young man with snow-white hair stepped down, while two young women descended from the other side.
Augustus looked up, "You have killed my man. I demand justice."
"Demand all you wish, but hand over your gold."
"I have something much more interesting than gold," Augustus smirked, drawing his wand. "'Adflictatio!' he shouted, and the highwaymen dropped, screaming in agony.
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"You fired the arrow that killed my man," Augustus drawled lazily. "Did he not try to warn you that he carried wizards?"
"Milord, he did, but I was under orders..."
"Silence," he said. "Who gave the order? Was this the scum?"
"Yes, milord..."
"A life for a life, snap your bow, and use the string to decorate that branch with him. I require a driver, you are my choice. Unless you wish to take his place?"
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Friday, December 23, 1379: (Julian)
London, The Strand, Bundy Estate: 20:52
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"Anne, come, walk with me," Robert told his daughter as he pulled on his coat. She joined him, boots crunching on the snow as they walked in silence, breath puffing in white clouds. He stopped, brushing off a bench with a view of Westminster. They sat; his arm companionably about her in silence for a time until he asked, "What is wrong?"
"I am... conflicted," she admitted. "I gave my oath to the Headmistress not to speak of this to the family, but it does involve you." She looked up into his brown eyes, "May I tell you something in confidence? Something that you may not speak of to any?"
"May I speak of this to your mother? If it involves you, she will surely curse me if I do not."
"This part, aye, you might, but only to her, and she must maintain the silence." He nodded, "At the beginning of the year, we had a most unusual visitor at school; she is... she is a time traveler."
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"Amazing," Robert mused. "Not only one, but two travelers, and a ship to sail the stars," he shook his head. "Were I not convinced of your truth, I would think you touched in the head." He looked at his daughter, "Yet there is more? Is this part where you cannot speak of?"
"Nay, father. Here I must confess a crime to you, a solicitor. I stowed away on board their ship, and actually visited another planet." She swallowed, "I saw life, father. Forms of life to beggar description, in shapes not our own, and all the colours of the rainbow. I saw intelligent life that ranged from waist height and orange to twelve feet, and covered with fur." She turned on the bench, "I regret to say that I did also see slave markets, like I hath seen on London's docks, but these were criminals, not people stolen from their native lands as the Moors do."
"I see. The captain, what did she do?"
"She flew me back the next day, without the ship, and delivered me to the Headmistress. She, the Headmistress, did scold me loud and long, and then when Miss Wayne had left, did beg of me to tell my experiences."
"She flew? Without the ship?"
"Aye, we were surrounded by a green cloak, and flew back in a trice," Anne said, holding up her hand. "Please, father, I understand it none better than you."
"You have been punished by the ship's mistress, and by the school's Headmistress, I will not gainsay them," Robert said. He looked at his daughter, "That, though, is not what disturbs you." He held up his hand, "Before you break your oath, let me see if I might deduce it." He gazed at her; saying, "This Miss Wayne is it?" Anne nodded, "She has invited you to join them?"
Anne exhaled, "Aye, and I have not broken my word. They..."
Her father held up a hand, "Speak not. They have a safe way to do this, otherwise they would not say it," he mused. He stood, pacing a little ways; then returning. "To when?" he asked.
"The first of April, two thousand and one," Anne replied softly.
"Six hundred twenty one years," he marveled. "I see your dilemma. If you go, we will be naught but dust and bones in a tomb, and yet, my child, I would see you seize this chance. You are far too bright, and there is naught for you here, but will you have kin?"
"Aye," Anne said softly, "One kinswoman is an instructor at Hogwarts; the other is a seventh-year, and Quidditch captain. Miss Wayne has said she will be at my side, as will her friends." She smiled crookedly, "She calls it, 'Returning the favor', as we have looked out for her, and her boon companion, Miss Yates."
"Ah, Miss Yates. Tell me of her."
"She is from even farther afield, the year of our Lord 2390," Anne said. "They have both been frustrated with life here, which they refer to for some reason as the 'Dark Ages'." Her father leaned against the stone wall, motioning to her, "It is primarily little things that one might take for granted that we have not yet discovered or invented. Still, they have both been zealous in guarding the timeline, the flow of time, as like a stream."
"Good," Robert said. "I can see problems there."
"As can we," Anne nodded. "They have chosen the safest route for me, that of sleeping for those six hundred years, whilst they build a device to carry them forward, upstream. Their problem is that they do not know for certain if it will work, but they only have one sleep capsule."
"Which they gift to you," her father breathed. "I cannot fault their generosity... Anne, know that your mother and I will always love you. You must make your own decision, but 'twere I you... "
"But... when I leave to return to school, I will be leaving forever!" Anne cried.
"Aye, love, 'tis your decision," He drew his wand, lighting the tip, "Let us go in, we shall say naught to your mother, for now. Should you decide to go, please write her a privy letter."
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Monday, December 25, 2000: (Gregorian)
Grandview Heights, Morton home: 11:03
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"Now that we're all finished acting like maniacs," Momma Morton said, "We've got one left." The heavy package edged forward, as if it was asking, 'Is it time for me?'
"From Mattie to the Mortons" Henry read, picking it up. "Who wants to do the honors? Arthur?"
"Bill, think you can?" he asked his younger brother, who cheerfully ripped off the paper.
"It's a book," he said, "It's 'The Complete History of Hogwarts'." He put a hand on the clasp, and it flipped open. "Weird, there's sections blank."
"Wizarding books can be weird," Julie said. "Let's try this, 'Find: Book Layout' she told the book, and it flipped to the front section. She read, "As this is a comprehensive history of Hogwarts from its founding, sections will appear blank, as they have not yet occurred at the time of reading." Looking up, she said, "Cool!" She told the book, "Find: Morton family." The book flipped open:
Morton, Arthur Donald: b. 19Feb. 1987 Philadelphia, PA, USA, Hufflepuff.
Etrigan, Demon: Defended sister Julia (see) 31 October 2000.
Records: Points, most daily (250)
Spells: Arcus (created 1998)
'At least my 'second sight' isn't in there,' Arthur thought.
Morton, Edmund Harold: b. 3Jan. 1864 Bristol, Avon, England, d. 14May 1966 Detroit, Michigan, USA; Ravenclaw. Son: Michael Mark (squib).
Notable Achievements: British Ministry of Magic (Marine) 1888-1913, emigrated to USA 1913, American Ministry of Magic (Marine) 1919-1941; Midwest Mages Alliance (Michigan Mages Alliance before 1951) 1922- (Treasurer 1950-1960, President 1960-1965), Magic Defense Research Council 1941-1945.
Morton, Julia Alexandra ("Julie"): b. 29May 1989, Columbus, OH, USA, Gryffindor.
Etrigan, Demon: See brother Arthur: 31 Oct 2000.
Morton, William Stephen Jr. ("Little Bill"): b. 17Dec 1990, Columbus, OH, USA, Hogwarts letter issued 21Dec 2000.
"Yes! I'm in!" Bill said excitedly.
"Which one of you is going to tell me about this demon?" Elena asked.
"Not me," Arthur and Julie said simultaneously.
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