Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Twenty-Five
Counting Is Not Living
"Why don't you sit down, dear?"
Kendra reached over and pulled out the fourth chair, where Artemis had just been sitting, so Iolanthe could sit.
"Thank-you, Grandmother," Iolanthe said, taking her seat as she pulled her canvas satchel around to her lap. "Anyone have plans?"
"Enjoying good company," Daphne said. "That's about it."
Iolanthe nodded.
"Rose?" Kendra asked.
"The Burrow. Rose and Hugo had an appointment," Iolanthe said. "She's discovered a passion for knitting, so you can guess who her enabler is."
"Is that a match made in heaven?" Astoria asked.
"If ever there were one," Kendra. "You didn't bring James?"
"I offered. Father trumped me with a father-and-son flying session. Zelda is multi-tasking the management of several events, with her apprentice Tracey."
"What have you observed today?" Astoria asked.
"There isn't much moving around besides birds. A few snakes are sunning themselves. I saw a kite overhead. Look for nests, everyone, okay? If they're nesting nearby that will require many hours of observation," Iolanthe said.
"How about some tea?" Daphne asked. "Iced or hot?"
"Sure," Astoria said. Kendra nodded her concurrence.
Daphne called out 'Periwinkle' and the elf materialized next to her chair.
"Lady Daphne?"
"The ladies fancy some tea," Daphne said. "I'd like mine cold, with lemon."
Everyone wanted theirs cold, with lemon, and the elf dematerialized with a little 'pop' before walking right back out of the door to the Mill with a tray holding four tall glasses of iced tea floating above her left hand.
Everyone murmured thanks, in accordance with the laziness of the July afternoon.
"I forgot to ask Scorpius about Merlin," Kendra said. "What has he turned up lately?"
"He is combing the Malfoy Manor library this summer," Astoria said, "Looking for anything relevant. His conversation is becoming peppered with references to Druids. As far as I can tell he's not getting into anything irresponsible. Given the location, you understand."
"Ohh, just advise him to be careful," Kendra said, "Or I will. Maybe both of us."
Daphne and Iolanthe exchanged looks.
"He's Binns' prized pupil," Iolanthe said. "Getting through Brother Glott's manuscript in one school year has put him on the map."
"And well it should," Kendra said, her words so carefully articulated they sounded as if they carried their own underlining. "A second year student working his way through a thirteenth century manuscript, translating the Latin and Danish as he went, in one year? That is worthy of a young Dumbledore, or Flamel."
"That really is quite impressive, Astoria," Daphne said.
"He needs to be careful studying Druids, though" Kendra went on. "Druidism can be studied but more than one young wizard has taken a text as authoritative and surprised himself. It's been said if you read a Druid spell or ritual, you're being led down a path, because the real Druids didn't commit anything to writing."
"That's interesting," Astoria said. "I couldn't boil water without reading the recipe."
Iolanthe thought that was hilarious, for some reason.
Everyone else thought Iolanthe's reaction was the hilarious part, especially the emergency takedown of her iced tea glass.
"Well, Mother," Astoria said when everyone's tea was finished. "I wonder if I could impose on you to floo back with me and my pheasant to Malfoy Manor? I would hate to mistake my stop and end up in Blackpool or something similar."
"I'd be delighted," Kendra said. "Do you expect Narcissa to be there?"
"She ought to be, unless she's gone off socializing," Astoria said. "Andromeda has lured her over recently with pleas to help her eat up Teddy's summer greens, lest they go to waste. They're setting records for frugality."
Iolanthe stood and kissed Kendra and Astoria good-bye, then sat down again with Daphne. When she saw the reflection of the green flames in the window of the Mill, and heard the 'WHOOSH' from the fireplace, she turned to her mother.
"Mother…" she began.
"Your aunt's time is getting short," Daphne said. "Iolanthe, I'm sorry to be so blunt, but there is no reason to try and make something so bitter sound sweet. She is tired, and she knows what it means. She has known forever. She worked it out for herself before Mother sat her down and told her everything. She is so strong. She always has been."
"She's very brave," Astoria said, believing she was agreeing with her mother.
"She is that," Daphne said, "But it has another dimension. She lived a witch's life to the fullest. We went through all of the crises at Hogwarts, and when your father and the anti-Voldemort fighters got that all sorted, she was ready the next September to go back and start school. When she and Draco discovered what love was, Lucius and Narcissa were quite tepid about it. Of course they wanted Draco to marry and have a family. They didn't think Astoria strong enough to produce what they were looking for from Draco. You see how that turned out. Draco told me he had to be ordered, by Astoria, to put his concerns out of his mind and do his duty."
Iolanthe's eyes had been tearing up while Daphne was talking, but she started to laugh at the thought of her Aunt Astoria ordering Draco Malfoy around under those circumstances.
"We can't let Draco or Scorpius know we know, hmmm…?" Daphne said. "That really wouldn't do."
"Something tells me one of them has already told Scorpius, and I'm guessing Auntie Astoria," Iolanthe said. "Of course I'll keep it to myself."
"On the other subject, Iolanthe, just appreciate every minute you can spend with her, for as long as it lasts. You can carry her in your heart forever that way."
Daphne clearly wanted a change of subject, so Iolanthe proposed a walk.
"Want to explore a lane or two? I came out to look at animals," Iolanthe said. "I haven't gotten very far."
"That's a wonderful idea," Daphne said. "Periwinkle, can we leave all of this with you?"
That was a rhetorical question because Periwinkle could not conceive of a better way of spending her time than picking up after Iolanthe and Daphne, unless Tracey and Zelda were added to the mix.
Iolanthe and Daphne walked across the little stone foot bridge that Harry, Fabio and the elves had built over the mill stream, not really thinking about where they were going. They were on Potter Manor land and could ramble for miles in any direction and still be on Potter Manor land. The woods beckoned, the shadows promising some filtering of the July sun. They followed a course of overgrown parallel tracks across a fallow field, where an abandoned lane had fulfilled some purpose long before. They talked as they crossed the field, about Hogwarts, Iolanthe's friendship with Rose, Iolanthe's suspicion that Rose and Scorpius were developing feelings that went beyond friendship, but it was too early to be certain.
"She's on track to be Head Girl, just like Hermione," Iolanthe said.
"How do you feel about that?" Daphne asked.
"Mother, are you asking if I'm jealous?" Iolanthe said.
Daphne walked on.
"I suppose I am, in a way," Daphne answered. "I was thinking I was asking about whether you thought it would affect your friendship, but you're probably right. Have I exposed you to too much psychology at too young an age?"
"No," Iolanthe said. "No, not at all."
Daphne's question and Iolanthe's answer took a moment to sink in.
"Good one, Mother," Iolanthe said in appreciation. "No, I'd rather Auntie Millicent pick someone else for prefect. We don't pal around and I call her Professor, but plenty of people know how she fits in our family, so I don't need the resentment. Another Black would be nice. I can usually get them to do what I want."
"Iolanthe Astoria," Daphne said. "Just thirteen and thinking that way."
They plowed their way through some tall, cane-like grasses.
"I'll be fourteen the first of December," Iolanthe retorted. "Besides, I'm a Potter, Black, Slytherin witch. I have to look out for a lot of people. They depend on me. Starting in September I'll have James and Zelda. I've got responsibilities."
They got out of the tall stuff and the old track reappeared.
"Stop."
Iolanthe reached out to block Daphne's way.
"What?"
"Just wait here," answered Iolanthe, walking on, slowly.
She stopped before she reached the beginning of a little depression. The dragon had been careful, but there were burned patches around the area. Iolanthe stood on a little mound and tried to assess what she was looking at.
Switching to parseltongue, Iolanthe spoke to whatever was out there: "Show yourself. I can't hurt you."
An inarticulate growl came back from a brushy patch.
"That won't help," Iolanthe said. "You need help, don't you?"
A tiny dragon walked out of the brush.
"It's Mother," the little dragon said. "Please."
Daphne had walked up and joined Iolanthe.
"No," said Daphne. "Darling," she added, softening up her command.
Iolanthe took a moment to switch to thinking and speaking in English.
"Let's just see if there is anything we can do," she offered, the best Iolanthe could think of on short notice.
"If we come to see you, will you try not to fry us?" Iolanthe called out. The little dragon turned and looked back into the overgrown area. Iolanthe pushed her satchel around behind her.
Some shrub-like plants concealed a small fold in the earth where a female dragon lay crouched. As dragons go, she was quite modest in size. Still, a dragon is a dragon. Iolanthe proceeded, but carefully.
"What has happened to you?" she asked.
"You can speak as a snake," the dragon stated, rather than asked. The baby waddled up and took the space between her mother's forelegs. Farmers had used the spot, over the years, for the rocks that were in their way in the cultivated fields all around, so the dragon actually looked right at home.
"What are you?"
Iolanthe took a moment to answer.
"I'm a witch," she said with a little shrug. "I was born speaking the sacred tongue, as a hatchling. The snakes know me, if you need references. So, again, what has happened?
"I used this spot for two other eggs, but this time one of the stones rolled off the pile and my wing is damaged. I can't hunt. I can wait, but the little one has to eat. By the time I can fly, she'll have starved," said the dragon. Iolanthe gasped, and her knees suddenly felt weak. She had never been exposed to a dragon in despair and wasn't prepared for the pain she felt in her own heart.
"If we can help you, can you control your breath?" Iolanthe asked.
"Yes," said the dragon. "We do have to discharge from time to time, or it builds up, but I am alright for now."
Iolanthe switched back to English.
"Mother, please come up here," she said. Daphne joined her on the little knob.
A gurgling sound came from the mother dragon's throat, and the baby pressed back against her breastbone.
"That is a CAT," said the dragon, little flames licking around her nostrils.
"No," Iolanthe said in a matter of fact manner. "That is a human. She can change into a cat, if the occasion calls for it. Besides, she just ate, so she isn't hunting now. Has the baby eaten?"
"No, not since yesterday when my wing was damaged," the dragon said, calming down a little.
"Well, then, here is what I propose," Iolanthe said. "In my bag I have food. Chicken. I was going to have it for lunch but I can get more so why don't I give it to your baby? You're free to inspect it."
Iolanthe pulled her bag around so she could raise the flap.
"What are you talking about? What are you doing?" Daphne demanded.
"Wait here until I find out," Iolanthe ordered in response. "We might be able to help her."
Iolanthe took out a parcel and unwrapped it. She held the lot so the dragon could see the sandwich inside, and walked deliberately toward the two. The baby smelled the chicken and started to become excited at the prospect of food.
"She doesn't need to cook it," Iolanthe advised the mother dragon, who lowered her muzzle and stroked the baby.
Iolanthe walked directly up to the pair and put the sandwich, wrappings and all, in front of the baby dragon, then stepped back a few steps.
"Mother is a healer," Iolanthe addressed the dragon. "A human, magical healer. She is in a panic, of course, because I'm down here with you. Can she join us? She might be able to help."
"If the cat moves on my baby, it won't go well," said the mother dragon.
"Oh, I think I can guarantee she will be very careful," Iolanthe replied. "Shall I call her down?"
The dragon paused to think. Iolanthe waited patiently, willing herself to think like a reptile, to live a reptile timeline. The human behind her was vibrating with fear and the thrill of standing in range of a dragon's flaming breath, while the dragon forebore roasting her alive.
"Io…"
"Ssssss…" Iolanthe said, with a wave, silencing her mother, as if that were something she was accustomed to doing every day.
The dragon came out of her reverie.
"When I denned up, two winters past, a snake found me, and asked to share the warmth. We talked and talked, waiting for spring. He spoke of a human hatchling, by the name of Iolanthe, who could speak their language from birth. I thought it was a typical snake legend, something to tell each other while they were wrapped up in their ball of snakes. You're her, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Iolanthe. "I am her. Can you focus on me while Mother attends to your injury? If you can't hunt, the baby won't live. With all our means we can't feed a baby dragon to maturity. Just look at me.
"Mother?"
Daphne stood still, trying to find the courage to comply with Iolanthe's request and approach the dragon. She heard Kendra, who had grasped her arm and told her,
"We are Greengrass witches, Daphne, and we protect our line."
Daphne hadn't known it at the time but she had been carrying Iolanthe when Kendra had done that. Now, here she stood, staring at death. Her daughter walked straight up to it. The prospect of instant immolation did not seem to bother her daughter at all. That was her line, right there, showing her the future, if she wanted it to go forward. Kendra had told her, that was why they lived.
Daphne made her decision, stepped off her spot and walked up to the dragon's wing.
"You've lost a few scales, and the skin is open a bit," she said, looking back at Iolanthe. Iolanthe spoke to the dragon in parseltongue.
"I need to use my wand. This won't hurt," Daphne said.
Iolanthe passed her assurances to the dragon.
"There is nothing broken," Daphne said after examining the wing. "You have deep bruising, perhaps a little swelling in that joint. I need some dittany to close up the wound. You can work on the pain and stiffness with moderate movement. I'll have to go for the dittany."
Iolanthe translated for the dragon.
"I carry a little dittany for emergencies," Iolanthe said in English, then translated for the dragon. "Not a lot. It's enough to start."
She reached into her satchel and felt around for the vial, before handing it to Daphne.
"Just look at me," Iolanthe said, reaching up by now and rubbing the dragon's muzzle.
"Let her put it on the wound. Just look at me. There! All done," Iolanthe said.
"What's your name?" Iolanthe asked.
"Gorr," said the dragon.
"North Star," said Iolanthe. "Such a beautiful name. And the baby?"
"We don't name them until a little later. So many don't get to their naming-age," said the dragon, a definite sadness coming through.
"Would you object to me naming her Iolanthe?" the dragon asked.
"I'm honored, but before I say yes, can I ask if you ever give them two names?"
"We do, if it would please you," said the mother dragon.
"You would do me a great honor if you could name her Astoria," Iolanthe said. "For my aunt."
"Astoria Iolanthe?" the dragon asked.
"If you could, yes," said Iolanthe.
"Done," said the dragon.
Daphne had been stepping back slowly from the dragon's side. She got back to her little knob.
"Iolanthe, come on back a bit and let our friend stretch her wing," Daphne said.
Iolanthe translated and backed away, stepping around the baby dragon who was now happily tearing at the sandwich wrapping paper with teeth and claws.
The dragon stood on her legs and stretched her wings.
"Sore," she said. "Can I fly?"
Iolanthe passed the question to Daphne.
"When you feel you can fly, you can fly," Daphne said, "Don't leave the ground until it feels right to you. By tomorrow, flying should not be a problem, if you can make yourself wait. Work the wing a little, slowly, and the pain should start to go out of it."
Iolanthe translated Daphne's advice.
"We'll leave you alone now," Iolanthe said. "I'm glad we met."
The baby blew flames through her nose, merrily setting the wrapping paper ablaze.
"Good-bye for now, Protector of Snakes," said the dragon.
Iolanthe and Daphne took off again across the fallow field, at an angle that took them further from the dragons with each step.
"So much for my slow day for observing animals," said Iolanthe.
Daphne had a great deal to say to Iolanthe. So much, in fact, that it all wanted to come out at once and she had no idea how to organize her words. She wanted to threaten Iolanthe with a ferocious, "When your father hears about this, young lady…" but that didn't seem quite right.
"Iolanthe, how could you?" would sound overly dramatic when really, nothing dangerous had happened at all.
"Iolanthe," Daphne began.
"Mother," Iolanthe answered, pushing her satchel out of the way so she could reach around Daphne's waist.
"As someone once said to me, 'Damn, you are one kick-ass witch.'"
"Thank-you, Mother. We worked well together back there. I think you are one kick-ass witch, too," Iolanthe said. "Just so you know, North Star made you for a cat right from the off. Dragon babies and cats don't mix well, it seems."
"Why didn't you say something?" Daphne demanded. "I'm no dragon expert. We could have gotten Charley Weasley if she didn't want me around."
"I couldn't say anything," Iolanthe answered. "I thought about it, but what if the situation put you into stress and you inadvertently transformed? That would have put me in a bad negotiating position. Very bad negotiating position. Better I lead everyone through what we needed to do, get North Star fixed, and we just walk away. As we're doing right now."
Daphne walked along with her young witch companion, who was still growing and not quite as tall as her mother.
"Merlin, what did I let Harry Potter cook up in me?" sprang unbidden into Daphne's thoughts.
"That's not fair," came the response, "Seeing she is one-half yourself. Besides, you're the one who bewitched him, in your bower, you witch. You couldn't leave him in peace, pay off the goblins, and enjoy your career as a healer. It was all right there in front of you."
"True," went the dialog. "But look what I'd have missed. She is magnificent, if a little scary. And James is a Harry clone, only I get to raise this one like a young man, not some unwanted castaway."
"And you're both still in love."
"Madly," Daphne thought. "When he touches me…"
"After all this time."
"Yes," thought Daphne. "I never want to stop feeling it."
"And you're about to start again."
"Not necessarily," Daphne thought. "I'm a little behind schedule. My body is changing. That is not definitive."
"You're a witch, and witches have babies into their fifties, sixties, and more. You've been through this twice, Daphne Greengrass Potter, you know what it feels like."
Iolanthe had been looking up at Daphne's face while they walked. Iolanthe had in fact been picking their path and steering Daphne as her mother walked along lost in her internal conversation.
"Mother? Is everything okay?" Iolanthe asked.
"Oh, sure, I was just thinking some things over, as long as you were navigating for us," Daphne said. "You know, the millstream is right over there. Feel like cooling your feet?"
Daphne turned for the stream. She remembered a thick fallen branch that crossed the stream nearby, fat enough to have been a tree trunk itself, the bark fallen away and the wood polished and bleached. She slipped her flats off and left them on the bank, leading the way out into the stream. Reaching the middle, she turned and slid up onto the branch.
"Perfect," she said, "I can just reach the water."
"How is it?" Iolanthe asked, stepping out of her sandals. "Cold!"
Iolanthe hadn't waited but just waded in and got her answer. Now her jeans were wet halfway to her knees. She joined her mother on the log and pulled the bottoms of the legs up so she could dangle her feet and not continue to soak the denim.
"What's up?" Iolanthe said.
Daphne stared at the water where it made riffles as it flowed over a gravel bank. Daphne was one of the people who are mesmerized by any kind of moving water.
"It feels like we're going to get an addition to our family," Daphne said. "After James, nothing happened, nothing at all, not even a maybe. I was like a clock. Now, it feels like…we're going to get…"
"An addition to our family," Iolanthe said, finishing Daphne's sentence for her. "Gosh, Mother! It will be like another family. James is eleven. James, then an eleven year gap, then a baby."
"I know," Daphne said, and dropped her head.
"Mother," Iolanthe shouted, just short of a scream. "What's wrong, it's wonderful news. Rose and I will drop out of Hogwarts and raise it for you!"
Daphne tried laughing and crying together, but neither worked very well. She dried her eyes on the back of her hand, and settled for laughing.
"You can't do that!" Daphne said. "Raising one more isn't a problem. It's not just a question of having a baby or raising a baby. Everything is going on at once. James' first year at Hogwarts, Mother and Father aren't getting younger, Grandmother Davis is fine, except she is capable of moving about fifty feet every twenty-four hours. And Astoria."
Daphne lost her composure again, the worst episode yet. For the first time ever, but certainly not the last, Iolanthe Astoria slid over next to her mother and pulled her close. She raised her free hand to Daphne's cheek and brought her head down to her breast, then she laid her own cheek down on the platinum hair.
"Go ahead. Go ahead and cry, Mother, as long as you need to. We'll just sit here. There's nowhere you have to be, there's nothing you have to do. None of this is your fault and we'll sit on this log and cry 'til you feel better."
Daphne did just that. They sat there on that log for quite a long time, Daphne crying, and Iolanthe holding her on the log, gently rocking her back and forth. Eventually, Daphne did cry herself out. She let Iolanthe hold her for several minutes more, while she breathed deeply, wiped tears, and reestablished her composure. When she straightened up, she gathered up the skirt of her summer dress and jumped into the water, where she held the skirt in one hand and used the other to scoop up cold water and splash it on her face.
"Whoo!" she said, giving Iolanthe a huge smile.
"Better?" asked Iolanthe.
"Perfect!" Daphne said.
Iolanthe joined her in the stream and they walked back across the gravel bed to the bank. Iolanthe gave Daphne a boost up, and Daphne turned and reached down for Iolanthe. Between the grass and the sunshine, they got their feet dry enough to put their footwear back on and followed the current back toward the Mill.
They got to the arbor, which had been freshly tidied by Periwinkle, and was ready for its next event. Daphne looked over the Mill and didn't see anything amiss. Some fairies appeared.
"Hullo to the fairies," they said, in turn.
"The fairies are happy to see Daphne and Iolanthe Astoria," said the collective voice of the fairies. "And…the others."
Daphne and Iolanthe shared a look.
"Not a problem," Daphne said. "We'll cope."
They struck out for Potter Manor.
Iolanthe had to talk. She couldn't help it.
"The others," she said.
"Why not?" Daphne asked. "We didn't have twins the last two times."
"Will it be twice as hard on you?" Iolanthe asked.
Daphne thought, then shrugged.
"Maybe," Daphne said. "But I'm going to do it anyway. My sister is so different from me. She showed me so many things I would have missed in my chronic tunnel vision. Now she's showing me something I should have learned long ago. You seem to know it instinctively, just the same as her—counting is not the same as living."