Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Twenty-Three
Summer Plans
When end of term came around, Scorpius, Rose and Iolanthe were getting mentioned in staff room conversations. 'No wonder,' and 'Blood will tell' were heard, it never being clear whether accomplishment reinforced the cliché or the other way 'round, but in the end, it made no difference.
Scorpius had stuck with the Glott manuscript, finally getting through the last tale of Merlin with a week to go in the spring term. He'd consulted with Professor Binns, the History of Magic instructor, on some future plans. Professor Binns had been happy to commit to collaborating in the fall, since, as a ghost, there wasn't any question of whether he would still be at Hogwarts when the next term commenced.
"I'd like to bring Glott into this century," Scorpius had said. They were talking in the staff meeting room. Professor Binns no longer needed an office of his own, since he didn't have a body that required space.
"How, exactly?" Binns asked. "He's quite dead. I don't think he left a ghost around. At least, I can't say I've run into it."
"What do you think of this, Professor?" Scorpius began. "Hogwarts has the only copy of the Glott manuscript, or so it appears. There aren't any records of others, unless the records themselves are restricted somehow. I sent an owl to Hermione Weasley, and she assured me the Department of Mysteries doesn't have anything."
"Is that the former Miss Granger?" Binns asked.
"Yes, my father's classmate, and Ronald Weasley's, Harry Potter's…" Scorpius confirmed.
"Well, that's excellent," said the professor. "You could not get better guidance or information. If Ms. Granger says so, take it as read that you're correct and Hogwarts alone has the honor to house Brother Glott. What did you want to do with him?"
"Next year, for something to do, I thought I would transcribe Glott, putting him into modern English, translating all the Latin and Danish, and annotating anything that needed annotating," Scorpius said. "Highlight discrepancies between a Glott account and Mallory or Geoffrey of Monmouth. There are disagreements on the current definitions of some of the words and terms in the old languages. Those would get a footnote. That sort of thing."
"My boy, that would be quite a task," Binns said. "You'd be doing a tremendous service to history, and magical historians. Just how did you come across Glott to begin with?"
Scorpius shrugged.
"I got interested in Merlin, for some reason," he said. "It might have been connected to Slytherin, although I'm not certain myself right now. I'd read Mallory. Then I went to the card catalog and found the card for Glott's manuscript. I had to get permission to work in the restricted section, but Professor Bulstrode and Madame Pince have been very supportive."
"Right, then," said Binns. "We'll take this up in the fall. If you're still interested and want to tackle Glott, I'll do what I can to see you get whatever support you need. This is all in addition to your classes, I take it?"
"Yes, sir," Scorpius said. "A hobby. Something to do when the homework is done. Stay out of trouble."
"Wonderful," said Binns, "You've read Glott, and now you want to go full scholar on him. Give him the treatment, eh? That is really first class, Mr. Malfoy. Have a fine summer break."
Rose had some half-formed plans for next term but was more focused on her summer workload. She had sent her book requirements to Hermione by owl as soon as she had the next term's classes confirmed. Hermione had the books and supplementary materials put together by Flourish and Blotts, then the Granger-Weasleys went down to the Leaky Cauldron for a Saturday lunch, settling up for the books on their way home. All were waiting at home as soon as Rose returned on the Hogwarts Express.
"Now the real work starts," Rose said to Iolanthe, with relish, when they'd finished their last day of exams. They'd found a free table and chairs under one of the covered walkways that connected the Hogwarts buildings. The textbooks they'd be taking to Flourish and Blotts were piled on the table. Soon they'd be packed in their trunks in preparation for the return to London.
"You aren't going to spend the summer with your nose in next year's books, are you?" Iolanthe asked.
"Of course not," Rose answered, wondering where Iolanthe got such thoughts. "Just the first two weeks. That ought to be enough, if I work at it. Then I'll pester Hermione and Ronald for some trips to interesting places related to what I've just studied, for background and enrichment. So I understand the why, and not just the what."
"Oh, and your mother will take you?" Iolanthe asked.
"I hope not," Rose said with a little recoil. "If she sticks to my script, she'll get Gran to take Hugo and me. That way we'll get a little Burrow time several times a week all summer long. Gran knows all the magical tourist sites as well as anyone, but once she's got us she'll want to feed us and tell us tall Weasley tales and help me with my knitting. It's a riot."
"Rose," said Iolanthe. "When did you develop this…this…"
"Diabolical, cynical, underhanded…stop me when I hit the adjective you're looking for," Rose said.
"Stop!" Iolanthe demanded.
"Here's the thing," Rose said. "They've got jobs, Mum and Dad. They're interesting, I suppose, but they'll do them eight or ten hours a day. Hermione needs to go in on Saturday a surprising number of times. That leaves Hugo and me at home playing gobstones or spending days at your house or Fleur and Bill's, while Gran is knitting Weasley sweaters and waiting for Grandpa Arthur to get home. Mum and Dad hate to ask her to just take us every day, as if it were exploiting her, so we have this little conspiracy. I think it will work great."
Iolanthe stared at Rose, not knowing what, exactly, to think about her friend. Rose had so many facets.
"You're welcome to come over anytime you want," Iolanthe said. "You don't have to conspire, either."
"Of course, I know that," Rose said. "We'll probably take you up on it. Hugo and I just don't want to impose on anyone or wear out our welcome. With Gran that's impossible. We've been owling about it for months. Don't tell H. and R., please. They'd be mortified."
Iolanthe wanted to hug Rose so bad right then, but the library between them precluded it.
"I probably wouldn't die of boredom, as such, if you weren't here," Iolanthe speculated. "I'd go catatonic, though, and remain in a state."
"What kind of plans do you have?" Rose asked. "Aside from Scorpius' Black Picnic?"
"Oh, more documentation of the woodlanders, visiting the Mill, wresting Aunt Astoria from Uncle Draco and the wee bairn for some marathon Odysseyreadings," Iolanthe said. "James and Zelda need raising, and we are down to three months remaining before they start school and are lost to us. There is plenty to do."
"Here's an idea," Rose said. "If we were to get the first-years together, along with your cousin Tracey, once or twice a week…"
"Hmmm…" Iolanthe said, giving it some thought. "Perhaps with Grandmother."
"Now you're thinking," Rose said, dispensing some positive reinforcement. "We pool our resources, hoodwink the tykes into doing interesting stuff, throw ourselves at Tracey's feet for work on our advanced social skills and seminars on the latest eyebrow shaping and manicure techniques. We will devastate. Hogwarts won't know what hit it."
It was a good plan.
Rose and Iolanthe spent the first three days after their return from Hogwarts getting welcomed back into the bosom of their families. James and Zelda pestered Iolanthe with endless questions about Hogwarts. Some were angst-driven, like, did the sorting hat hurt while it was thinking? Others were surprisingly penetrating. Zelda was worried she wouldn't be picked for the study group and everyone would think she was dumb.
Tracey and Iolanthe both tried, but neither managed to fully alleviate her anxiety. When Wednesday came around, Daphne used some subtle techniques to get everyone out of #12 except Zelda.
"Gosh, Zelda," she said, when she realized they'd been left alone. "It's just us. Want to drink some tea?"
"I'd like that," Zelda said.
"Come on in the study, then," Daphne said. "Kreacher? A pot of tea and two cups in the study, please."
Kreacher had a tray and was putting it on the sideboard before Daphne and Zelda arrived.
"Thank-you, Kreacher, that will be all for now," Daphne said.
"Mistress," Kreacher muttered, backing out and closing the door.
Daphne poured a cup of tea, picked up the cup and saucer and put them on the side table next to Zelda's place on the settee. Putting her own on her desk, Daphne sat down.
"We haven't done this for a while," Daphne said. "Did you want sugar or lemon?"
"No thank-you," Zelda said. "I don't remember doing this before at all."
"I think you're right," Daphne said. "We'll make a point of sitting down for tea together, from today forward."
Harry, Daphne and Tracey had all agreed years before that it would be simpler to let Zelda call Harry and Daphne by their first names, and the same for Iolanthe and James in regard to Tracey.
"Daphne?" Zelda began, "Is there something wrong with me?"
"Not that I know of," Daphne said. "Why do you ask?"
"Lots of the witches you see in your study have problems," Zelda said, studying her tea.
"Ah," Daphne said. "Everyone has problems, Zelda. Everyone in the world has at least one problem. Nothing about having a problem guarantees there is anything wrong with the person who has it. If I have a disagreement with a colleague at work, we might both have a problem, but there isn't necessarily anything wrong with either of us. Now, the way you phrased your question makes me want to ask if you think there is something wrong with you. If you don't think that is any of my business, you are free to say so."
Daphne picked up her tea cup. She took her time, sipping a bit of tea, letting it linger on her tongue, swallowing, taking a bit more. Zelda felt the silence closing in.
"So…you didn't get rid of everyone in order to examine me?" Zelda asked. Daphne's conniving wasn't up to the task of fooling Zelda, that much was clear.
"Not at all," Daphne said. "I sensed, and only sensed, that there might be something you wanted to talk to me about, so this gives you the chance to bring it up. Of course, if my guess was wrong, we fall back on enjoying tea and conversation. Assuming you like those things."
"What if I'm not put in Slytherin?" Zelda burst out.
"Well, there, you see, is something you did want to talk about," Daphne said. "Do you know young witches and wizards worry about that all the time? I would not be surprised if that were not the most common thing that bothers young witches and wizards. So many go around worrying about their future house. What do you suppose happens when they're sorted?"
"They go to the house they were sorted into," Zelda said.
"Exactly," Daphne confirmed. "They go to their house, and the people who are already there make them feel welcome. They tell them a few things about their house history and traditions, and the next day they learn a little more, and the day after that, and the day after that. Before you know it, they're part of their house tradition, and it goes on from there."
"Bu-u-u-ut, Da-a-a-a-phne," Zelda belabored her words, drawing them out, "Dad, Mum, you and Astoria are all Slytherins. Iolanthe is in Slytherin, and Scorpius. Of course I want to be in Slytherin. It's the best."
Daphne considered Zelda's words.
"I can see why you'd think that, and thank-you for the compliment," Daphne said.
"Although, ranking the houses from best to worst might be only one way to think about it," Daphne went on. "Merlin was in Slytherin, and he was a great wizard and an advisor to King Arthur. That is very good for Slytherin. We're all quite proud to be associated with Merlin, as any witch or wizard would be. Of course, there are Slytherin witches and wizards who weren't Merlin-like at all. We aren't as proud of those. You know some very distinguished witches from other houses, though. What about Gryffindor?"
"They're a bunch of brawlers," Zelda sniffed.
"Are they?" Daphne said. "Where did you get that information?"
"From you and Mum," Zelda said.
Daphne turned crimson, and thought of chilly offshore breezes until she got the heat out of her cheeks.
"Well, Zelda," she tried. "Your mother and I can be a little unguarded when we're just talking between ourselves. When did you hear us making those comments?"
"Last summer, at the Manor. You were out on the patio. Mum said it was a good drying day, so you both went outside with Trix and your nail polish. I was coming out and you said 'Gryffindors' like you were over and done with the lot, and Mum said, 'Bunch of louts, brawlers,' and you said, 'Strangers to refinement, lacking in subtlety.'"
"Oh, well, there you go," Daphne said. "You caught us in some projection. That is what mental malady people call it when someone recognizes something in themselves they don't like, and instead of trying to correct it they call someone else out for that very thing. We were being a bit unkind in our gossiping and we projected that onto all Gryffindors. Now that you have brought that to my attention, I give you my word I will work on fixing it. That wasn't showing you a very nice side of myself, was it? I assure you I didn't want to lead you to develop prejudices."
"Is it the truth?" Zelda asked.
"Let's think about that for a minute," Daphne said. "You like to fly, I think it's safe to say. Who is the best flyer you know?"
"Harry is a great flyer," Zelda said. "I've seen Charley Weasley fly a few times, and he's pretty good. Ginny was a Harpy. I never saw her play, but people still talk about her. When I have seen her fly, she flew very well. Not as elegant as Harry."
"Well, but no one is, do you think?" Daphne observed. "Now, all those people you named are Gryffindors. You've gone to Seamus and Dean's with Tracey, haven't you? They've built a wonderful company that provides incredible service. They aren't lacking in refinement, far from it. Did you know Seamus and Dean are Gryffindors?"
Zelda pondered that.
"Gryffindor might be alright," Zelda allowed. "Were there people in your study group from Gryffindor?"
"There were witches from everywhere. All the houses were there. Rose's mother was in the group when your mother and I were, and she's a Gryffindor," Daphne said. "Study group is about studies. Houses don't enter into it at all. Just remember, when you get to Hogwarts, virtue is distributed across the houses, and the less desirable things as well.
"What is really so much more important than which house a person is in, is how they fit in the house. Do they bring their strengths? Do they identify and work on their weaknesses?" Daphne finished.
Zelda changed directions without any warning.
"What if I'm not picked for the study group, Daphne?" Zelda nearly exploded.
Daphne wasn't prepared for the sudden display of real anxiety. "You'll all think I'm dumb."
"Zelda," Daphne said, a little pleading in her voice. "I won't think you're dumb. Okay? I will never think you're dumb. Let's put that to rest.
"The study group starts in second year. You'll use your first year to find out if you want or need a study group. Do you like spending hours and hours going over your homework? Do you think you would like to finish with a textbook and go right on to find more materials on the same subject, just to learn more?"
Zelda looked down at the carpet as she wrestled with the questions Daphne asked.
"Are you feeling alright? Do you want to take a little more tea and go on to something else for now?"
Zelda handed her saucer and tea cup over to Daphne, watching while Daphne topped it up. When she got it back, Zelda lifted the cup from the saucer and took a little sip, then took another.
"You and Mum were in the study group. Hermione was, too. Iolanthe and Rose are in it now. If I don't get picked, I'll be the dumb one. Everyone will think so, too."
Daphne sat there looking at Zelda. She was such a puzzle. What was under all the anxiety, she wondered, over things that really oughtn't be of concern to someone so young?
"What do you know about the study group?" Daphne asked. Maybe if they looked, they could find the thorn in Zelda's paw.
"Smart witches get into the study group, and dumb ones don't," Zelda pronounced.
"Sounds logical enough," Daphne said. "Anyone would think that, wouldn't they? What do you like to study?"
"I like all of our subjects," said Zelda.
"You like the subject matter, or you like getting into the books and going over and over the material?" Daphne asked.
Zelda pondered Daphne's question.
"Here's the thing about study group, Zelda," Daphne tried. "People who like studying tend to end up needing a place to study. It has to be quiet. There can't be distractions, because that interrupts the studying and it takes time to get back to where we were before we got distracted. All the study group does is set aside a place for witches to go and study. Steady, sustained study of subjects that witches find interesting, or need to know."
Zelda thought about Daphne's explanation.
"Are there witches," she began, a little tentatively, "who aren't dumb, but don't go to study group?"
"Hmm…" Daphne began. "There's Auntie Millicent. She was in my year. She didn't go to study group. I don't remember if she was invited or not, but she is certainly not dumb. Defense Against the Dark Arts is one of the most challenging subjects in the magical curriculum."
"Ginny didn't come to study group, either. She's an editor, and had a great quidditch career," Daphne added. "Ginny had so much talent, she really didn't need study group."
Zelda pondered everything Daphne said.
"Is she a brawler?" Zelda asked.
Daphne managed to croak out "Oh, yes," through her laugh at Zelda's question. Madame Walburga had to exert herself to keep from laughing at the innocent way Zelda asked, remembering the accounts she'd heard of young Ginny's duels with her niece, the powerful, psychotic Bellatrix Lestrange.
"The thing is, Zelda, someone like Ginny is exactly the brawler you'd want to be around, as long as she was on your side," Daphne explained. "I'm ready for a scone, does a scone sound good to you? Kreacher?"
A scone sounded very good to Zelda, as it turned out. She had finally relaxed and sat with her back against the settee, feet nearly reaching the floor. Zelda broke her scone in half before taking a bite, then put the half scone back on the plate before picking up her tea cup.
"What do you have coming up for events?" Daphne asked, giving Zelda a little diversion from what was clearly difficult subject matter. Zelda proceeded to list something Tracey was working on every week from the conclusion of the Black Picnic until mid-August.
"Why did you study so much?" Zelda asked, returning to their previous topic.
"There were many very good reasons to keep studying when we went to Hogwarts, Zelda," Daphne began.
"The future looked quite uncertain at the time," Daphne said, "so your mother, Astoria and I stayed focused on our studies and stayed away from the conflict as much as we could. Then I studied some more to qualify as a healer, then I went to muggle university to learn some more about medicine and psychology. That led to St. Mungo's and the mental maladies staff."
Zelda sat, nibbling the edge of a scone half.
"Was it hard?" she asked.
"It was hard, but I refused to be intimidated by hard," Daphne replied. "I'm going to tell you something about myself that I had to be older, and a lot wiser, than I was at Hogwarts, to understand. You might discover it for yourself someday, but I'm going to tell you what it was, right now.
"I don't know if I learned to be this way or if I was born with it, but I will turn my face to what is hard, and I will not let difficulty defeat me. The problem may be beyond my ability to solve but I will keep working on it. Hard won't beat me. It might make me cry in frustration, but it won't beat me. You can find that in yourself, too, Zelda. I know you can. Look what is hard in the face and go to work. Make that a habit and you won't need a study group, you won't need this or that house."
Zelda sat nibbling, the scone almost gone.
"I see why the witches want to visit you and drink tea," Zelda said, looking for crumbs to pick up with her finger tips and drop back on the little plate that had held the scone.
"Oh, anyone is welcome to come by for a little tea and conversation," Daphne said. "Especially you. In ten or twenty years you'll be right where I am now, benefiting from conversation with a young person. It's me that gets something from you when we talk. Can you understand what I'm saying? I talk to people my age all the time so I'm saying and hearing all the same things, like a big circle. I work my mouth, the words go out, go into ears and out another mouth, and I hear the same thing I just said.
"You, on the other hand, bring me your version of what you see, what you hear, what you feel, and what you think. It's so original. That's some valuable stuff!"
For the first time in their conversation, Zelda laughed out loud.
"Anything else you'd like to talk about?" Daphne asked. "Before next time?"
"Not that I can think of," Zelda said. "Thank-you for the tea and scone."
She slid off the settee and crossed to the door, plenty of bounce in her eleven-year-old stride.
"She's so smart," Daphne thought to herself, as Zelda did the same.
"I could see another Slytherin in her," Walburga's portrait said, waiting to express her opinion, for once, until the subject had exited.
"She's a puzzle," Daphne replied. "She can be pushy enough, so a little work on channeling that wouldn't be a bad thing. She flies like a young Harry, so if she wants to develop that, there could be another Gryffindor quidditch star inside her. Her academics are consistently good. In a year or two she might need something like Scorpius' Merlin project. Ravenclaw would love to have her. She's used to getting lots of love and attention, so there's Hufflepuff."
Daphne heard 'WHOOSH' from the salon.
"Mum!" Zelda's voice came down the corridor.
"Yep!" Tracey said. "My client approved everything, so I'm going to try to get to Seamus and Dean's this afternoon. You're invited, of course, but I think, perhaps, something a little more businesslike? And a trip to the bathroom for a splash to the face and hands? That looks like a cracker crumb."
"It was a scone," Zelda said. "Daphne invited me for tea."
"Oooh, what a treat," Tracey said. "We have to keep moving if we want to do this today, so face and hands then business attire. The blue dress with the white collar would be perfect."
Tracey and Daphne watched Zelda race up the stairs before stepping back into the study.
"You got the job?" Daphne asked.
Tracey reached in her satchel and pulled out two sheets of parchment.
"Contract. Signed," she said.
Daphne pulled Tracey to her and gave her a hug.
"Businesswoman," Daphne said.
"Who would have thought?" Tracey asked. "Magical event planner? We never knew events needed planning, they were just something that happened. You know what started this, don't you? That engagement party for Astoria and Draco. Every witch who got engaged for the next two years wanted a party like Astoria's.
"I helped people for free for years after that, just for fun. I had no idea there was a need and enough work to keep a person busy full-time. Now I've had to take on an assistant."
The assistant popped back into the study. With her freshening-up complete, Zelda was ready to do some business.
"How are we going?" she asked.
"Floo," said Tracey. "Look out for soot."
That evening, after they'd gotten the children tucked in, Tracey asked Daphne if they could go back to the study and close the door.
"There's no easy way to say it," Tracey began. "So I'll just start. You and Harry gave Zelda and me a wonderful gift, Daphne, but I think it is time we moved out. You housed and fed us when I didn't have the means, but now I do. I need to establish a household."
"Not on our account, you don't," Daphne said. "You're feeling a need though. I can tell."
Tracey looked down and didn't say anything.
Daphne knew Tracey better than she knew any of her other friends. She knew her better than she knew Astoria, and much better than she knew Harry.
"There's something else?"
Tracey raised her head and met Daphne's gaze.
"A remark today, in a meeting. An ignorant remark from someone who doesn't know any better. I've heard it all before, of course. Something about the way they said it today just got to me. The implicit assumption I'm a serial mistress, or Blaise and Harry share me, or veiled references to what we all get up to in our free time," Tracey said.
"Ahhh…" Daphne said. "I can't argue with you about that. Those are really ill-informed, judgmental people with no basis for their comments, but what are you going to do? I get it, too, you might remember."
"Well, sure, but he's your husband," Tracey said.
"And, if they think Blaise and Harry are sharing you, doesn't that mean I'm sharing my husband with you? Is that different?" Daphne asked, genuinely interested in Tracey's perspective. That is a hazard of being a close friend of a mental maladies professional. They might be running a study on you whenever you open your mouth.
Tracey thought it over, but she couldn't come up with an answer.
"Look, Tracey," Daphne tried. "You're my oldest friend, I've known you longer than Astoria. Harry and I talk through this nonsense whenever it comes up. He likes to have the extra adult around, Zelda is completely integrated into the family and sees James as a kind of twin. You do more to manage the houses and our family life than either Harry or me. We love you both. Harry won't come out and say it, of course. You got his attention when you told him about our deal."
Tracey laughed, stopped, and started up again.
"Aha. Did he tell you about the owl?" Tracey asked.
"Your owl did figure, yes," Daphne said. "After a discreet interval, naturally. Of several years."
Tracey leaned back, laced her fingers and hands behind her head and looked at the ceiling.
"I really did say that," Tracey confessed. "I guess it would have been true, then, but the owl would be redundant today, wouldn't it?"
No one said anything very articulate. Instead, Tracey and Daphne took a short break from conversation for snickers and giggles.
"Tracey, I had a little talk with Zelda," Daphne said, when they got back to communicating adult-to-adult. "She has a lot of anxiety built up over house selection and the study group. I think we got to agreement on the house. I'm sure she'd still prefer Slytherin but I got her to admit the other houses have their good points as well. She's also afraid she won't be invited to the study group and that will mean she's unintelligent. I explained first year is when a witch finds out if she wants to study enough to need the group.
"I'm not sure she understood. If it comes up, could I suggest something? Just reassure her she's smart and we know she's smart, and if she loves to study, it will all work out, group or no group."
"Now, the other thing," Daphne continued. "If you want to do it before she leaves for Hogwarts, please take the flat for now. Treat us like we're clear across town and you see us occasionally. I won't belabor it, but the truth is, I'd rather you wait."
"Any particular reason?" Tracey asked.
"Of course, I wouldn't have an opinion otherwise," Daphne told her. "Zelda is anxious enough now, without adding distancing from her family to those very real concerns, we are all used to there being three adults participating in schedules and child raising, and James and Iolanthe count on you being here. After all this time, you and Zelda are family to us. Nuclear family, Tracey, not some wishy-washy distant cousin we see every couple of years. At this point, it will be the next thing to a parent leaving for Iolanthe and James both. The Hogwarts Express is three months away."
"Deal," Tracey said. "You're our leader. I have to do as you ask or leave the tribe and become an outcast."
"Our leader," Daphne repeated. "'OUR' is whom, then?"
"Oh, Astoria and me," Tracey began, "Millicent, and she brings Ginny, who didn't need a lot of persuading, Pansy Parkinson might resist but just for show, Hannah Abbott, who credits the Longbottoms' recovery to your laying on of hands, Iolanthe, of course, who channels you in her sleep, plus whatever followers she has locked down. Word is it's a considerable number, particularly for a second year."
"Piffle," Daphne said.
"Suit yourself," Tracey sniffed, "I'm just the concubine."
They were up before everyone else the next morning, benefiting from a good night's sleep. It was a perfect day for breakfasting in the townhouse garden so Tracey and Daphne took advantage of the privacy to revisit their discussion, this time with fresh minds.
"Grimmauld Place is our base, and Harry built Potter Manor for several reasons, very complicated, too much to get into now. That leaves the flat and the Black estate," Daphne said. "There is also the Mill, but I don't think you could get that on an indefinite basis, because everyone likes their getaways too much."
"Don't I have to ask Harry?" Tracey asked. "They're his properties."
"Oh, I think the two of us could make a successful pitch," Daphne said. "One of the problems Harry realizes he has is the properties are actually excess to our needs. He hangs on to the flat because it's convenient and perfect for putting up guests or people we need to house for a spell and need a bit more than a hotel room. Every time he gets ready to sell it, it comes in handy for something.
"He keeps the Black estate for two big events a year and a few Cornwall weekends for the family. It might be perfect for you and Zelda. She'll be at Hogwarts for much of the year, and you don't have to be in London. You're out of town negotiating or putting on a production more than you're here now."
"Very thoughtful, Daphne," Tracey said. "Let me think it over and we'll talk again."
They agreed to hold any major moves in abeyance, at least until after Scorpius' birthday and the Black Picnic at the end of June. Iolanthe, Scorpius and Rose were big draws for the Hogwarts Blacks, and attendance was as good as it had ever been. The trenchers were set up in the shade of two large oaks. Fish and chips, and pasties, had displaced all the other main dishes, with garden salad and fresh fruit completing the menu.
Harry's pre-lunch remarks included recognition of the students present, and a kind word or two about each of the houses, and how he knew from the late headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black that the Blacks then at Hogwarts were adding to the luster of the House of Black with their accomplishments and low-key family cohesion across house boundaries. He thanked them for their efforts, assured them they were noticed, and predicted continuing success in their chosen fields, getting a generous round of applause for the scholars from the other attendees.
"As long as you recognize the inherent superiority of Slytherin, Lord Harry," said one partisan after lunch. "In keeping with the good taste shown by Lady Daphne, and your honorable daughter…"
The Slytherin cousin had just departed when Rose arrived.
"You weren't intending to slight Gryffindor with your equal treatment of the houses, I know, Uncle Harry," said Rose as she walked up alongside Harry, Hugo in hand. Harry wasn't really their uncle but they liked to claim him, and he appreciated the honorific.
"Well," Harry muttered, leaning toward Rose so he could keep his voice low, "I don't know about you, but when it came to houses, it always seemed to me like there was Gryffindor, and then there were the others. Is that your experience?"
"True, so very true," said Rose. She looked around before adding, "Poor things."
"Hence my caution at these multi-house affairs," Harry went on. "Walking through life with the confidence one can gain only through living according to the Gryffindor principles, it would be easy to trample feelings and alienate the less fortunate. That would be bad, because we still need them to do things for us."
"My life began in earnest when the sorting hat said, 'Gryffindor,'" Rose confided, breaking away. "You're talked about around the common room fireplace. Can I quote you?"
"I have complete confidence in your best judgment," Harry said.
The beautiful weather held throughout the day. There was plenty of bright sunshine, Teddy had the grounds looking their best, the temperature stayed in the moderate range, and all the Blacks roamed freely or found shady spots for relaxed conversations.
Andromeda and Narcissa gravitated together once again, taking their seats on the marble bench. Teddy found a comfortable chair for Astoria and put it next to Narcissa. The conversation must have been stimulating because it wasn't long before the three had a buffer zone of witches all around them. Some were Black cousins themselves and remembered Walburga, and pretty soon the witches who had married into the Blacks were getting serial lessons in Black knowledge based on Narcissa and Andromeda's tales of Walburga's wrath, as meted out by her inexhaustible inventory of jinxes and hexes. The stories stayed in the hilarious zone, in keeping with a late June picnic in Cornwall.
Astoria stayed with the sisters as long as they held court. Genuinely fond of her mother-in-law, Astoria considered her role in the reconciliation to be one of her most significant life achievements, in second place after conceiving and giving birth to Scorpius.
Daphne always kept an eye on Astoria at big events. Astoria tired easily, and as she grew older she began to have a harder time bouncing back.
"How are you doing, Baby Sister?" Daphne asked as she bent over Astoria.
"I'm getting such an education today," Astoria said. "Mother left so much out of our youngster curriculum. This needs to be preserved!"
"We may have one of those quills in the house," Daphne said, "The ones that take dictation."
"With all these Ministry types around? They'd confiscate the notes and the Unspeakables would be the only ones who'd ever see them again," said Astoria. "Better to stick to word of mouth. Before long we'll have ourselves a legend."
"Have you noticed legends are becoming commonplace around here?" Daphne asked. "I feel deeply for the next generation. They'll have to expend a great deal of energy to emerge from the pack."
Astoria followed Daphne's gaze around the lawn, Teddy's gardens and the shady arbor with its broad leaves and beginnings of bunches of grapes. Teddy and Victoire stood talking with Fabio before a patch of bananas Teddy had coaxed into residing happily in Cornwall. Scorpius was listening to an eminent historian go on about magical influences on Mallory, his face a frown as he tried to memorize the references he would need to look up as soon as he got back to a decent library. Rose and Iolanthe were on a blanket with a circle of soon-to-be first-years, talking about houses and menus, wands and potions, the giant squid and merpeople.
"Daphne, you know I almost never disagree with my chieftain sister, but on this one occasion, I think I just might," Astoria said. "So many of us were ground up and spit out by the war, we might have botched the job completely, but look at them. I think they're ready right now to carry it on."
"Oh, they're quite capable," Daphne agreed, up to a point. "We keep running up the score on them, though, don't we? We aren't done yet."
Astoria smiled, then reached up and squeezed Daphne's hand.
"I don't suppose so," Astoria concluded.