Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Eight
The Reign of Iolanthe
Harry and Iolanthe Astoria stood before the plaque with the Slytherin House crest discussing the snake.
"Snake!" Iolanthe would say.
"What does the snake say?" Harry asked.
"Sssssss…" Iolanthe replied.
"That's right, the snake says 'Ssssss…' doesn't it?" Harry confirmed.
Then Iolanthe would say 'Snake!' once more, and Harry would ask what the snake says.
"Harry," came a voice from behind them both.
Harry turned and saw Kendra, who looked very normal except her face was drained of color.
"She's a prodigy," Harry said, tucking Iolanthe against his chest. "How'd she learn to say 'snake?' Tomorrow we'll find out she can read."
"What's going on?"
Daphne stood in the doorway, Tracey just behind her.
"Come and see," Harry said. Tracey and Daphne walked over to where Harry and Iolanthe stood before the wall plaque. Harry turned back and faced the wall again.
Iolanthe smiled and said, "Sy-OSS…"
Harry spoke to his daughter. "Snake!"
"Harry, what are you doing?" Tracey asked. "That sounds like parseltongue."
"We were just talking. She can say 'snake.' Three days old and she recognized a snake."
"Let's sit down, shall we?" Kendra suggested. Tracey steered Daphne toward the couch. Daphne sat down and reached out for Iolanthe. Harry put her in Daphne's arms.
"Want to go to Mum? Do you want Mum to hold you?" he asked, switching to English.
Iolanthe gave Harry a big smile but didn't say anything.
Kendra looked at Daphne.
"Have you had a case of this?"
"Never," said Daphne. "There are published reports, but they're all pretty old, so reliability is always an issue. Harry, how did you learn parseltongue?"
"I didn't learn it," Harry said. "I just discovered it by accident, chatting up a boa in the zoo. Then I talked to that one that Draco sicced on me in dueling club, you may remember. I talked it out of striking, although no one believed me at the time. I have to be talking to a snake, or it doesn't happen.
"Iolanthe is pretty good, isn't she? Did you hear her?"
"Yes, Harry, we all heard her, and you, discussing that plaque in parseltongue," Daphne said, a little worry and confusion in her voice.
Harry didn't have a response. He wasn't aware they'd been speaking parseltongue. He thought he and Iolanthe were just talking about the snake.
"Sometimes," Harry sighed, 'it's not obvious to me that I've switched. When I've talked to actual snakes, I hear the English words, but people standing around tell me I was speaking some kind of snake language, all S and Ahh and Y sounds. I'm not even aware.
"Well, it won't hurt her, will it? Of course, we'll want her to learn some English, for road signs and whatnot."
"Harry!" Daphne said. Tracey tried valiantly, but couldn't hold in the great whoop that was her comment on Harry's observation and Daphne's reaction, and Fabio joined her immediately. Even Kendra braved Daphne's disapproving look.
"I think," Harry said, "She has inherited the ability, from somewhere. It's a mysterious trait. The Gaunts were the last family that I know of that used it among themselves. Tom Riddle discovered on his own that he could talk to snakes. He never knew his mother, so her teaching him couldn't have been a factor. Anyone can have a connection with a distant ancestor who passed it down. Maybe it's one of those dominant/recessive arrangements like in genetics. Two parents give you the gene, boom, parselmouth. Are you sure we were speaking in parseltongue? Because it sounded to me like she was saying 'Snake' loud and clear."
Iolanthe looked up at Daphne.
"Sy-OSS?" she asked.
"Do you want to see the snake?" Harry asked.
"That was parseltongue," Daphne reported.
Harry got up and lifted the plaque off the wall. He showed it to Iolanthe.
"Sy-OSS," Iolanthe said, smiling.
Harry thought about going to the garden and trying to call up any snakes that might be patrolling the beds and compost piles, but changed his mind when he remembered it was December, and outdoor reptiles would be hibernating.
"I predict, when spring comes, we're going to find out she has fans. They'll all want to come and meet her when the word gets out. Meanwhile, if she goes off on some parseltongue diatribe, ask her to hold it until I get there. I'll translate it for her.
"Such a genius, aren't you?" Harry said, holding up the plaque and kneeling down in front of Daphne. "What's this?"
"Sy-OSS," Iolanthe said, giggling.
Harry, as it turned out, was right. When the ground warmed up in the spring, small garden snakes were surprisingly abundant, and were sighted often when Daphne took Iolanthe to Fabio's gardens. Harry enjoyed walking in the garden with Iolanthe and Daphne because he could translate.
A typical encounter went like this:
Iolanthe would see a snake, and point it out with a "Sy-OSS" to which the snake might say, "The rumors are true, there is one here who speaks our language."
Harry would translate for Daphne.
"Oh, another one," the snake would say. "Who are you?"
"Harry Potter," Harry would reply.
"I've heard of you, but never thought I'd meet you. Is that one yours?" the snake would ask.
"Yes," Harry would reply in parseltongue, "And this is her mother."
"And she can't speak," the snake would say. "Our language, that is."
"True, but she isn't prejudiced," Harry would add, just to clarify. "Do you want to meet Iolanthe?"
"Could I?" the snake might ask. "Once in a lifetime, if ever…"
"Come on up," Harry offered, kneeling and laying his hand on the ground. Daphne always started to get queasy at that point, but she had a spine, and more than enough fighting spirit, and didn't object.
Iolanthe always smiled at the snakes and gave them some coo's along with calling them by their name in their own language. She invariably extended her hand, and the snakes, who couldn't exactly kiss her hand, leaned close and gave the back a little tickle with their snake tongues.
Daphne searched the literature, but the research on parselmouth humans was both sparse and questionable. The articles she found were primarily from the first half of the twentieth century. Scientific rigor was not a strong factor in magical publications then. Most magicians thought Newton had done them all a real disservice with his careful observations, and measurements, and revolutionary mathematical formulas for calculating orbits and the center of gravity for paired objects.
"What's magical about that?" some traditionalists wanted to know.
That attitude continued to affect magical thinking in the centuries since, and witches, wizards and squibs who had magical awareness pursued science knowing their magical brethren viewed them with suspicion, or at least skepticism.
In the weeks after Iolanthe Astoria's birth, Harry got serious about his project to build a house for Potter Manor. Magical architecture design and technique enabled magical builders to use a vast catalog of styles, materials and construction methods. Harry started by listing requirements for his immediate family. He gave his list to Daphne and asked her to edit it with corrections or additions for things he left out.
The limestone quarry on the property still had plenty of material left for a house. It was of a type that worked well for cladding of exteriors and as pavers for patios, walkways and floors. Daphne sketched some ideas for layouts and exteriors and sent them to Fabio to offer him the chance to put his design talents to work. Fabio added detail and prepared drawings architects call elevations, showing the designs in the setting on top of the hill, looking down towards the Dart.
Harry looked at Daphne's drawings and was taken by surprise by the number of bedrooms and baths. He asked her who they would be putting up. All Daphne said was, "I need my witches around me."
Harry estimated his chances of finding out more at close to zero, so he dropped it. In time, Daphne's witches would show up for the weekend, and then he'd know.
Fabio introduced Harry to the owner of a magical general contracting firm that he knew and respected. Even with magic the project was expected to take a full year to complete. Harry didn't mind. They had some other properties that needed their presence.
One of those was the Cornwall estate he had inherited from Sirius. Harry managed to get Bill Weasley to take a day trip with him to Cornwall and walk the property. The property wasn't burdened by any curses, but the wards the Blacks had set were formidable, and tricky. Harry brought the signet ring he'd always been too cautious to wear for fear it was cursed. He used his wand to hold the ring at a few inches distance. At the front door, Harry maneuvered the ring into contact with the lock, and was rewarded with a loud 'CLUNK.'
Inside, in the foyer, Harry turned back to the door and laid his wand alongside the lock. Most magical locks had the ability to recognize wands and associate them with a person, such as the property owner, or some other person authorized by the property owner, and permit them to pass through. Harry waited a bit then exited, closing the door behind him. He counted to ten and tried using the wand. The door opened.
Bill and Harry walked through the house, Bill probing for any anti-intruder spells, then trading places with Harry for follow-up. Other than the wards, which were complex and incorporated a concealment-from-muggles charm, the house was otherwise unprotected. The interior was very different from the mess Sirius, and later Harry, had inherited at #12 Grimmauld Place. The Blacks had not felt the need to create the same atmosphere of ancient gloom in Cornwall, apparently, for the house had plenty of windows and an actual color palette, albeit one that even Harry recognized was at minimum forty years out of date.
Once the property was pronounced curse-free by Bill Weasley, Harry felt comfortable bringing Daphne and Iolanthe for a visit. They packed some water and a bag of baby necessities and apparated to Cornwall on a perfect June day. Harry walked up to the front door holding Iolanthe against his left side. His wand unlocked the door.
"Now we know that works," Harry said to Daphne.
As they toured the house, Daphne made notes for future projects. The furniture was mostly bound for the trash. Some armoires and cupboards were declared keep-worthy, pending verification of their age and origin. Paint needed updating, and the woodwork was due for stripping and refinishing. No one had ever wired the place for electricity, a muggle innovation that many magicals found to be highly overrated. Harry and Daphne both felt they could live their Cornwall lives just fine without it, given the fact that they had wands. The one infrastructure project both deemed critical was improvement of the plumbing and water supply. A few weeks of work, properly organized, would result in a very livable country seat for Lord and Lady Potter-Black, with room for the lot of Black family and associates.
As Harry and Daphne walked through the house, they spoke to the portraits they encountered, greeting subjects by name if they recognized them, introducing themselves and Iolanthe if they didn't. The ubiquitous Phineas Nigellas featured in two portraits, one on the ground floor and one on the second. He woke up when Harry called his name, greeting the family effusively and welcoming them to the Black estate. Iolanthe delighted a dining room filled with Black grandees when she spotted a snake in one portrait and called out, "Sy-OSS!"
Harry and Daphne weren't quite as pleased with her the next time she used her parseltongue. While taking a little breather on a marble bench in the overgrown garden, Daphne put Iolanthe's blanket down on some grass and let her sit. Harry and Daphne talked through their home inspection tour room by room, discussing what they'd like to do in each one.
"Sy-OSS!" Iolanthe called out, and Harry looked around for one of the little garden snakes. The adder crawling across Iolanthe Astoria's chubby baby legs was not at all what he expected.
Daphne would have shouted, or screamed, but Harry anticipated her and reached for her arm, which he squeezed, hard. He shook his head slightly, then addressed the snake.
"Hello, brother," he said. "You've come to a family picnic."
"Yes-s-s," said the adder. "You wouldn't have invited me so I thought I would pay a brief courtesy call. Your visit caused great excitement. We wondered when you would come back and bring her to see us. The clan has-s-s talked of little else s-s-since."
"Here she is," Harry said. "You'll keep your fangs away from her, won't you?"
"There is a prophecy, s-s-s-o very old it is unattributed, of a human hatchling who will be our protector. The s-s-s-sign of her coming is the hatchling will s-s-s-speak our s-s-s-sacred tongue from birth."
The adder raised its head and looked at Iolanthe.
"Sy-OSS!" said Iolanthe.
Daphne caught her breath at the adder's movement. Iolanthe giggled and held out her hand, which the adder touched with its tongue.
"Brother, I will leave now. You have nothing to fear from the s-s-snakes," said the adder before crawling off into the grass.
The adder had barely left when Daphne started.
"That's it, we're never coming back until you've had this place cleaned out of snakes. Even I could see that was an adder. Thank Merlin nothing happened."
"I don't know about that," Harry said, clearly puzzled. "Your daughter, Iolanthe Astoria, is the subject of a prophecy among the snakes. Maybe it's more accurate to say there is a prophecy among the snakes, and Iolanthe Astoria exhibits the sign the snakes were given, so now the snakes think their benefactor has arrived. The adder called her their protector."
"Harry, we can't have adders just coming up and introducing themselves," Daphne fairly shouted. "Prophecy or no prophecy."
"It's starting to make a little more sense," Harry said. "Ever since the first one came up to us in the spring, it has seemed to me like they are making some kind of obeisance. She holds out her hand and all the snakes touch it with their tongues. They both seem delighted by it. Have you noticed?"
"Adders, Harry!" Daphne argued.
"Well, there are hardly any adders left anyway," Harry said. "Let them come and say hello. I have it on good authority we have nothing to fear from the snakes."
Little by little, Harry took bits from a dozen or more parseltongue conversations and constructed a mosaic of what Iolanthe Astoria meant for the snakes. Snakes were always thrilled just to discover a parselmouth human because those were so rare. In Iolanthe's case, the excitement was multiplied many times due to the prophecy that had come down about a human hatchling that would speak parseltongue and be a protector of the snakes, who, truthfully, had had a very difficult time with humans for at least as far back as humanity's very oldest tales.
By late summer, Iolanthe was asking to hold adult fingers in her tiny fists and go for short lurching walks on Fabio's garden paths. Harry loved walking her around the beds. Whenever a little snake crossed the path, Iolanthe would call out "Sy-OSS!" and the snake would turn and wait. Harry would kneel and hold Iolanthe on his knee, then reach down and give the snake a lift up to say hello.
Daphne discussed the situation with witches whom she trusted to keep it confidential. Although very unusual, none saw any harm. After all, an adder had assured Harry they had nothing to fear. Hermione listened and said she thought it was just Harry and Iolanthe sharing quality time, albeit in an activity that didn't have strong appeal for most witches and wizards.
The last snake they saw that year appeared during the second week in October. It was an unseasonably warm and pleasant day, more suited to July or August.
"Sy-OSS!" Iolanthe called. Harry knelt down and let the little snake crawl onto his hand.
Iolanthe held out her hand to the snake, who touched it with his tongue.
"Get to the den with the others," Iolanthe said, in parseltongue. "The cold is coming."
"My queen," replied the snake, giving Iolanthe a snake nod. Harry put his hand down and the little guy slithered off into a bed.
Harry looked at Iolanthe.
"Da-da!" she said as she reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair.
"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Da-da."
Harry had imposed on Fabio for some guidance on planting the beds in the townhouse garden behind #12 Grimmauld Place. He had pulled out all the dead stalks, which made room for some struggling perennials to get a little sunshine, and they were doing quite well. The cleaning up process did not reveal any snake activity. Even without snakes, though, Iolanthe Astoria was proving Harry right and toddling around the garden as she approached her first birthday. The short brick walls of the first row of stepped beds made perfect handholds for pulling up and balancing while Iolanthe got ready to take her first solo steps.
Fabio had given Harry some good recommendations for plants that tolerated the shady conditions in the garden, and Iolanthe liked the pungent odors of some of the herbs.
Harry and Iolanthe were bundled up for a fall outing in the townhouse garden one morning. Daphne was at St. Mungo's but was expected back at mid-day for her lunch and Iolanthe's when Kreacher came outside.
"Minister Shacklebolt, Lord Harry," Kreacher said. Harry looked up to see that Kingsley had followed Kreacher through the house and out to the garden. He stood up and extended his hand.
"Minister, welcome to #12. Iolanthe and I are taking the air. Would you like to sit down or come inside?"
"This is fine, Harry," Kingsley said. "What a beautiful garden. How do you get the plants to look this way so late in the year?"
"Technique and plant selection. We start them inside, then transplant them. The temperature hasn't dropped below freezing. Geraniums keep blooming until that happens. The ornamental kale likes it cool. They give us some color. Did you come to see Iolanthe?" Harry asked.
"That's a perfect reason to come by," Kingsley said. "Starting right now."
"Coffee, tea, something else?" Harry asked.
"There isn't time today, to be honest. Actually I'd like you to come in, tomorrow or the next day, if you can arrange it. We may bring you back to duty status," Kingsley said.
Harry didn't say anything at first, just sat there looking at Iolanthe.
"Ralph Mann is doing a fine job," Harry said.
Kingsley didn't say anything.
"My rehab is coming along well. The only thing that hasn't come back is the feeling on the upper left, across my shoulder and down to the elbow. The fine motor in the left hand is back. Notice how I'm engaging with my program? I now speak the lingo."
Kingsley continued to let Harry do the talking.
"Practically speaking, I can't feel pain on that side, which is an annoyance more than anything. I was thinking about applying to come back as a training officer. Run the recruits through their drills, assess fitness, develop improvement plans to get them through their qualifications, hand-to-hand instructor."
"All good stuff," Kingsley said. "I can make sure you know whenever we have an opening, so you can apply. With your time in service and demonstrated skills, you'd be a perfect fit."
Kingsley leaned back and looked up at nothing in particular.
"Tell you what," he said. "If you can get someone to look after this honorable young witch for an hour or two tomorrow, I'd like you to come in and talk to one of the administrative people about being a substitute instructor. I can't promise you'll get any work out of it, but I'd like them to pull your jacket from the reserve drawer and have you credentialed for active service, just in case."
Kingsley got up, and Harry followed suit, scooping Iolanthe up along the way.
"Any particular time?" Harry asked, leading the way through the French doors, where he waited for Kingsley. "Oh, and where do I go?"
"Check in with Percy," Kingsley said. "He's still in the same office. Any time's fine."
"I'll be there," Harry said. "Thanks for the confident comment, which we both appreciate, but Iolanthe hasn't done anything magical yet."
"Ha!" Kingsley exclaimed. "Good one Harry. See you tomorrow."
Kreacher stood ready at the front door with a bowler and a thin leather briefcase. Harry thought the Minister, in his charcoal suit, looked exactly like a muggle senior civil servant, a perfect camouflage for walking around the government-heavy neighborhoods of London in complete anonymity. Accepting the hat and case, Kingsley turned to take his leave of Iolanthe Astoria as Kreacher opened the door to a 'pop' and Daphne materialized on the top step.
"Daphne!" Kingsley said in greeting.
"Minister," Daphne responded, a little wariness coming through her otherwise neutral tone. "As long as you're here, won't you stay for lunch?"
"I can't today, but I'm sure there'll be an opportunity soon," Kingsley replied. "Harry, and Iolanthe Astoria, so happy to see you."
With that, Kingsley stepped down and disapparated.
"Imagine that," Daphne said, her eyes locked on Harry's. "Any news to relate?"
Harry held Iolanthe until Daphne had passed her cloak to Kreacher, then handed her over.
"Mum-mum," Iolanthe said, her lips continuing to work in anticipation.
"Let's discuss," Daphne said, a little edge in her voice as she started up the stairs.
The nursery had a very comfortable rocker for Daphne and Iolanthe Astoria, and Harry moved a small side chair in from a little nook in the hall.
Iolanthe got started on lunch and Daphne rocked with some energy and authority as Harry related his conversation with Kingsley.
"I knew as soon as I saw him," Daphne said. "He could invite the two of us for lunch or dinner or coffee at the ministry cafeteria, but he came by in the morning when he knew I'd be at work."
"What do you see that I don't?" Harry asked. "It sounded to me like he was trying to find something for me to do. As long as Ralph Mann is effective as Head Auror, I don't have any interest in displacing him. Kingsley said he'd like me to have current credentials, so I could move into a position, should one come open. Sounds innocent enough, considerate, even."
Daphne held Iolanthe, rocked her chair, and looked at the ceiling.
"I don't buy it," she finally said. "Kingsley could have sent you an owl, asking you to come by and see Percy, or the mysterious admin person, and get the process started. Instead, he paid a personal call, with no aide, no deputy, just you and your friendly minister, relaxing at home and talking about nothing at all, except that little personal pitch. Has Kingsley ever shown any indication he just likes hanging out with you? Has he come by, or seen you at the ministry, to ask about your rehab?"
"Before today, you mean?" Harry asked, a little grin giving him away.
"You get my point, I see," Daphne said. Iolanthe chose that moment to pull away from lunch and rid herself of a bit of curdled milk. Of course she missed the towel that Daphne had positioned just for that purpose.
"Here," Harry said, taking the towel and letting Daphne focus on moving Iolanthe.
"The best I can concede is a twenty-percent probability," Daphne said. "Eighty-percent Kingsley has got something for you to do. Something he, and Percy, and Hermione, and Bart Fudge are in complete agreement on; only Harry Potter and his skills and connections and experience and style can do it. Or maybe I should say, 'can pull it off.' Twenty percent probability you're right."
"Are we going to bet?" Harry said.
Daphne pretended not to hear. She was locked in an eye to eye adoration session with a happily lunching Iolanthe, a situation that was particularly effective in diverting Harry from serious subjects. Daphne let her answer simmer for a while, for mellowing purposes, before she finally said,
"Harry, what exactly would we bet, if you think about it?"
Harry thought over everything Daphne had said. He knew she was right. He didn't know, exactly, how he knew, but her analysis answered every question in his mind about Kingsley's unannounced visit, the primary one being, 'Why now?'
"Public acknowledgement," Harry said finally. "Public acknowledgement, and bragging rights."
"Fine, you're on, Harry," Daphne said. "You will remember our conversation when I had you trapped in your bed in St. Mungo's? We have an understanding. Don't get carried away and forget your commitments to us."
"How could you think I'd ever…" Harry put forward before Daphne cut him off.
"Oh, Harry," she said, as she brushed a lock of hair back from Iolanthe Astoria's face.