Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Cycles Intersect
Astoria Malfoy arrived at Malfoy Manor in the company of her mother, Kendra Greengrass, and was promptly greeted by a house elf wearing a cravat, pearl gray vest, wing collar and swallowtail coat.
No one knew just where or how the elf had acquired clothes, which normally would have meant he'd been given them by his master or mistress and dismissed from their service.
The elf was named Boggs, and he was a butler. He alluded to a long line of butlers, direct and collateral ancestors, who had preceded him in his profession, but even Tracey Davis could not recall house elf butlers, named Boggs, or anything else.
Boggs had come to the Malfoys by way of a 'Situations Wanted' advertisement in the Daily Prophet. At his interview with Narcissa Malfoy, Boggs had spoken a bit vaguely about a recent tragedy in his master's family, and a little later on to a terrible accident, too painful to discuss. Despite the sketchy backstory, Narcissa developed a liking for the butler-elf and invited him to Malfoy Manor for a little familiarization. Once he'd had the tour, Boggs announced he was eager to get to work. He started out greeting arriving guests, accepting cloaks, capes, and all manner of wizarding headgear, sending everything to the cloakroom for hanging with just an elegant wave of his elf hand, walking into Lucius Malfoy's study or Narcissa's salon and announcing the guests, before bowing himself out of the room and closing the door.
"He seems to know his butlering," Lucius allowed at dinner one night about a week after Boggs arrived.
Boggs was a born diplomat. As a butler, one might have thought Boggs would start contending for position with the house elves already in the Malfoys' service. To the contrary, Boggs went out of his way to lend a hand, doing jobs that might have been thought beneath the position of the butler. When helping with a chore soiled his butler regalia, he tut-tutted away any concerns and cleaned, ironed, or mended as needed, using his butler elf magic. Before long he had every Malfoy elf looking up to him for his demonstrated professional competence and likeable demeanor.
The formalities surrounding Astoria and Kendra's arrival were exchanged with precision. Astoria advised Boggs that she was tired, and wished to sit for a moment with her mother in the salon. In addition, she had a pheasant, a very special pheasant that must be treated with the utmost care. She asked that the head kitchen elf be summoned. Astoria could have called for any of the Malfoy elves but now that they had a butler, she observed protocol and let the butler handle it.
The head kitchen elf appeared in the hallway just outside the salon and Astoria greeted her, then explained the gift of the fresh-killed pheasant, how it needed to be hung up for a few hours, then that she would like it prepared by roasting for dinner that evening. The elf's favorite stuffing was a combination of cooked brown rice, pine nuts and chopped spinach, and she asked if that was acceptable. Astoria thought that it was, and left it to the elf.
"Freshen up?" Astoria asked Kendra, nodding to the little powder room that was discreetly tucked behind a door in the furthest corner of the salon. Kendra took her up on it. Astoria sat down on one of the long lounges and slipped out of her shoes.
"Melon," she called, summoning her personal house elf maid. Draco and Tracey had collaborated in recruiting a personal elf maid for Astoria. When she had become visibly weaker and started tiring easily, the elf made a huge difference in the quality of Astoria's life. Over the few years she'd worked for Astoria, Melon became deeply attached to her, a feeling Astoria reciprocated. The one complaint Melon had was that Astoria was much too neat to really challenge Melon's elf magic, and she wished Mistress Astoria would make a little more of an effort in her mess-making.
"Shoes, please, Melon," Astoria said, "Up to my closet, and when you're finished please come right back. Madame Kendra is next door and she may want a mineral water or some other refreshment."
Shoes sorted and refreshments managed, Astoria looked into everyones' evening plans. Lucius, it seemed, was with some potion-making friends, and would be home after dinner. Narcissa wasn't expected either, since she'd gone for the day to Andromeda's house and they usually ate in the afternoon, just before Narcissa returned.
Draco was on the property somewhere, and Scorpius had taken some books from the library and was reading them in his room. Both were expected for dinner, or, at least hadn't given notice that they would not be there.
"Are you all set, dear?" Kendra asked.
"I think so," Astoria said. "Perfect lunch with perfect company and a little light refreshment upon my return home."
"I'll take the liberty of saying hello to Scorpius, if that is alright with you?" Kendra said. "You take a nap and I'll be off. Tell Narcissa I'm so sorry to have missed her. We'll have to get together soon for lunch."
Kendra left, and found Scorpius with a little help from Boggs. She told him she'd been hearing good things about his research but stopped short of embarrassing him.
Astoria, Scorpius and Draco dined together that evening. The pheasant did not appear to be sufficient as a main dish for a family of three when Astoria brought it home, so it was prepared with the thought it would be a starter course. After a little plate of baked ziti and a small salad for each of them, though, everyone seemed satiated, and only Scorpius added a fruit sorbet to finish everything off.
Scorpius excused himself, washed up, and prepared for bed directly after dinner, then equipped himself with two books from the Malfoy Manor library and repaired to a covered veranda for some background reading. The veranda was on the second floor, overlooking the gardens to the rear of the house. Scorpius noticed Draco and Astoria strolling on the graveled paths that marked the sections of the garden. Astoria walked arm in arm with Draco, so at times he appeared to be supporting her. They were having a long talk, it was clear, but Scorpius was happy he couldn't tell what they were saying. He was enjoying the veranda, and his books, and he would have felt obligated to go inside if he'd been able to overhear his parents' private conversation.
Astoria was up early the next morning. She called for Melon and asked for a coffee, black, in her room. She laid out a royal blue caftan with a silver border, and a pair of simple black leather sandals with discreet silver trim. After her bath, she called for Melon again and asked her to please bring up a little fruit plate, and advised the elf she would be leaving for the Mill to read The Odyssey with her niece right after she finished the fruit.
Astoria got to the Mill a little before ten, to find Iolanthe was already sitting in the shade of the arbor.
"Been here long?" Astoria asked.
"Not that long," Iolanthe said. "Besides, we all have to be someplace, regardless, so what better place…?"
"Too right," Astoria agreed as she laid a little canvas bag on the table. She turned the broad flap that closed the bag over and pulled out a leather-bound copy of the Fitzgerald translation. Iolanthe saw two cream-colored envelopes sticking out of the cover, but Astoria slipped those back in the bag before closing the flap.
"Ready?" Astoria asked.
"Just about," Iolanthe answered. "Periwinkle?"
"Miss Iolanthe, how can Periwinkle help you this morning?" asked the elf.
"Madame Malfoy and I will be reading this morning, and I think we would be very comfortable if you could put two of those canvas chairs in the shade near the mill pond," Iolanthe said.
The elf disapparated and was back almost immediately with two pieces from the manor's patio set.
Astoria and Iolanthe thanked Periwinkle, lay back in the sling chairs and opened their books. As soon as they settled down the fairies began arriving and worked out a way to make them each a crown of swirling lights.
"Where?" Iolanthe asked.
"Book XVI, Father and Son," Astoria said, thumbing her text.
"But there were two men in the mountain hut, Odysseus and the swineherd…" Iolanthe began.
They took turns, reading for ten or fifteen minutes before yielding the floor. From time to time they'd stop and ask a question, or give an opinion.
"What does that mean?"
"I never did like her."
"MEN!"
It was a little after twelve when Astoria called a halt.
"My voice needs a rest!" she said. "This has been fun. I have to stop before we get too much of a good thing."
"Going back?" Iolanthe asked.
"No, love," Astoria said. "Draco's coming with Scorpius. I'm going to take a nap and rest from our exertions and be ready for my lads."
"Okay," Iolanthe said, kneeling down beside Astoria's sling chair to give her a long hug. "I just love being Iolanthe Astoria Potter. I always will," she said.
"Thank-you so much for telling me that, Iolanthe," Astoria said. "I'm very happy that's who you are. I have been since Daphne gave you your name, right here, the night the fairies asked who you were."
Iolanthe looked at Astoria and nodded. She leaned over and gave her a kiss, and quickly turned away to walk back to Potter Manor.
Astoria closed her eyes and enjoyed the shade for a few minutes. When she got up, she took her copy of The Odyssey and put it back in the bag. Picking up her silver-trimmed sandals, Astoria went inside the Mill. She dropped her bag on the bed and the sandals on the floor beside it. After a visit to The Baths, she came back to the bedroom. She sat on the bed and opened the bag, taking out The Odyssey and the two envelopes. Putting everything on the foot of the bed, she crossed to the window and opened it, returned to the bed and picked up her book.
Astoria was awakened by a buzzing sound. She'd never heard anything buzz so loudly. She looked up and saw a large, black and yellow wasp circling the room. Astoria watched it for awhile before she saw that it was flying in what appeared to be perfect circles. The wasp would fly in a circle that nearly reached the walls, then cut across and fly several tight, fast circles in the center of the first one, then move out and fly a medium circle.
"Artemis?" she asked. "Is that you?"
No one answered, so she tried again.
"Father Zeus? Have you come to visit me as a wasp?"
This time she got an answer. A tall woman, not pretty, but formidable, and fine-looking, wearing a floor-length purple gown and sandals covered in gold leaf walked through the bedroom door and sat on the edge of the bed.
"No, dear," she said. "My husband wanted to ease your passage, so we discussed it at some length and I asked him to send the wasp. It's a courtesy, really. Your time has run out, which you already knew. I came to tell you how much we all admire you. Ever since Artemis came back from Durres, we've been watching.
"You were a model wife and mother. You refused to let the family curse intimidate you or slow you down. You lived on willpower to have the time to raise your son. You should know your efforts have made you famous on Olympus. You should also know your ancestor's enemy's curse is no more. You are the last. It won't go on through Scorpius or any of Daphne's children. You broke it. Are you happy?"
"The happiest," Astoria said. "You're Hera?"
"Yes, dear. Are you ready?"
Astoria took a deep breath and let it out, then another. She lay the book on her abdomen and reached up to the buttons that closed the caftan. When it was loose enough, she spread it open, took The Odyssey in one hand, and grasped Hera's with the other. The wasp descended to land between her breasts.
Draco had put his ear over that spot to listen to her heart while he told her every way he could think of how much he loved her. She had put the newborn Scorpius right there when he had finished his first meal at her breast. She thought of those things when the wasp touched her heart with its stinger, and she had for a moment the feeling that her body burst into fire from within, but that was a flash, followed by a plunge into a cool, blue place that seemed to be filled with some kind of gel.
Astoria's eyes were open and she picked out a bright spot in the blue, and thought that must be up, so she began swimming toward it. She swam and swam, holding her breath, but swimming through the gel was a lot more difficult than swimming through water. The hand that held hers gave a tug and Astoria's head broke the surface.
"So," Astoria said.
"All done," answered Hera.
Astoria looked around. She thought she was looking at some sort of desert, but she wasn't too familiar with those.
"Is this the underworld?" she asked Hera, who didn't seem to have any goddess business demands on her time, judging by how much of it she was lavishing on Astoria.
"You won't be going to the underworld, Astoria, unless you want to go," Hera began. "Your pure heart and courage must be rewarded. You know Elysion? The Elysian Fields?"
"Oh," Astoria said. "That's totally unexpected. Who do I thank?"
"All of us," Hera said. "By consensus. I'll pass it along for you. There is a reason you're here, of course. See the elderly gentleman over there?"
Astoria looked where Hera indicated and saw a man sitting on the edge of a cliff, looking out over the desert.
"He has some information you'll need. Now, you're going to remain here until I come back for you. Chat Don Juan up. You'll find him very interesting," Hera concluded, and dematerialized.
Astoria walked over to where the old man sat, his legs dangling over a cliff.
"Hullo," Astoria said. "My name is Astoria. My friend said you're called Don Juan?"
Astoria let herself down to the surface, carefully inching her way to the drop so she could hang her legs over. It occurred to her she really didn't need to be careful, if she was dead. She supposed that would be something one becomes used to, over time.
"I am," said Don Juan. "What brings you here?"
"I died a short while ago," Astoria said. "Someone brought me here to wait. She's to come back for me at some point. There is supposed to be something coming that I'll be needed for. Of course she didn't bother to tell me what it is."
"Oh, that is typical," Don Juan said. "Always with the mystery. If you're dead, do you mind telling me what you did in life?"
"I'm a witch," Astoria said. "That's what I did. Lived like I saw my mother live. She's a brilliant, very powerful witch. I got married and had a son. He just had his thirteenth birthday. I used my skills to make my husband happy and raise my son."
"Well, that is very impressive," Don Juan said. "Your accent says you are from England, if I'm not mistaken."
"Yes," Astoria said. "I was raised in Devon, educated in Scotland, spent lots of time with magical folk in London. How about you? Where are we, anyway?"
'I'm in New Mexico, in the United States," Don Juan said. "I'm a shaman. I was studying a problem someone brought me, from different angles, and I'd been here before, working something out, so I came back for the view. If you're really dead, that might mean something different for you. Do you know an English wizard named Harry Potter? I met him some years ago. He's very brave, but he's scared to death of his wife."
Astoria had just enough time to think, "I wonder if we laugh in the afterlife?" when she lost control. She made sure she was back in control before she started.
"Harry Potter is married to my sister. He is smart. That is why he's afraid of her. He is immensely powerful, but he loves her, heart and soul. He would be quite vulnerable, power or not, if she didn't love him the same way," Astoria said.
"It sounds like they are both very fortunate, to have found each other, I mean," Don Juan said. "If those arrangements are too one-sided, someone gets angry, or jealous, and that can be that. So much in life depends on everything being balanced. How are Harry and Daphne these days?"
"Doing well," Astoria said. "Just before I died, Daphne confided in me that she is pretty certain she's pregnant again. It has been eleven, going on twelve years since their son was born. It will be like a new family for them, all over again."
"Oh," Don Juan said, "They have a son? I haven't heard from Harry recently, so I knew about the daughter, but not their son. Dios mio, I must work harder at keeping up. What is Harry doing these days? He was between jobs, you could say, when we saw each other last."
"Do you know about intelligence, Don Juan? In a government sense?" Astoria asked.
"Yes," Don Juan said. "I do some work at the university in Las Cruces. Lots of physicists there. The government sends security people every year to lecture on how to recognize when we're being recruited."
"Harry is the Minister for Magic's spymaster," Astoria said. "I'm not supposed to know that, or talk about it, but I'm dead, so I don't think I'm breaking any confidences. Even if you blab you'll have to cite a conversation with a dead woman sitting on the edge of a cliff."
"What are you here for, Don Juan?" Astoria asked. "Besides thinking about your problem?"
Don Juan planted his palms behind him and leaned back.
"Like I said before, someone brought it to me, to work on for them," Don Juan began. "Now that you're here, I am starting to think you have something to do with it. I should tell you, I get here by means of peyote. I don't know if that affects your view of me or not, but you have a right to know. My body is in a hammock tied between two cottonwood trees near a little creek that runs year around. If you're looking for a beautiful place to spend eternity, ask the lady who brought you here to assign you. There doesn't seem to be a spirit anywhere around there."
"Oh, you're outside your body!" Astoria said. "That's some advanced wizardry, Don Juan. Are you sure it is okay?"
"There hasn't been a problem leaving it there up until now," Don Juan said. "I'll go check on it from time to time. Did your friend tell you what you're to do?"
"No," said Astoria, "It's a total mystery. Just that there is something for me to do here before she takes me on, and to chat you up because you have a lot of information and you're very interesting."
"Any idea who she is?" Don Juan asked.
"Yes, she's Hera, Father Zeus' wife? From Olympus? His daughter, Artemis, offered her help when I was planning a family with my husband. I've been living with a blood curse my whole life, something that came down through generations of my family. No one thought I'd get pregnant, or that I'd survive the pregnancy, or childbirth. Here I am thirteen years later. Anyway, Artemis' family has taken an interest in me."
"Ah, the chief god, Father Zeus," Don Juan mused. "In this part of the world he's often seen as a quetzal or a thunderbird, depending on one's mother culture. And he has favored you by giving you his wife as your escort."
It wasn't a question. Don Juan simply stated it as a fact.
"That could be significant."
Don Juan went back into his own thoughts.
The Mill was very quiet when Draco and Scorpius walked past the wooden bench and millstone. Draco could see the front of the building clearly. He'd thought Astoria might be sitting on the bench beside the door, waiting for them. There were two canvas sling chairs near the mill pond. They were facing each other, not the pond. The witches must have had them that way for their marathon Odyssey reading.
Scorpius noticed the front door was standing open. When the path jogged the angle of approach changed and he could see the bedroom window was open as well. The weather was very nice, so his mother was probably asleep in the bedroom. Sadly, she was getting through her days with the help of two or three naps daily, but she was her normal energetic self when a nap was over.
By the time they reached the door, Draco was convinced he knew what had happened. He and Astoria had walked and talked in the Malfoy Manor garden, he begging her to try to hold out until someone figured out how to break the family curse, she stating over and over that the time was past, that she knew what was coming, and she was counting on Draco to get their beloved son through his mourning and back to Hogwarts.
Astoria had been one of the first of the witches and wizards around the Malfoys to understand just how much potential Scorpius had. She marveled at his progress during his first year at school, when he'd come in something of a rustic stock character with a basic education and tore into his magical studies like they were a banquet for which he had been starving.
The second year, and his fascination with Merlin, weren't a surprise to Astoria. Scorpius could only be satisfied with fundamentals so long, then he'd need to ratchet up his game. The only thing that surprised Astoria was how fast he'd ratcheted it up. To go from a schoolboy's fascination with a subject to studying an original source from the thirteenth century was more than a leap, it was equivalent to one of those moon shots the muggles went on about.
Thus her lecture to Draco while they strolled in the garden. In a long line of Malfoys, some with reasonable magical accomplishments, others with a proclivity for frittering away their lives worrying over other peoples' magical pedigrees, Scorpius stood alone. At the age of thirteen, he was already the most distinguished scholar the Malfoys had ever produced, and was at least a co-equal with Phineas Nigellus among the Blacks. Astoria's point was they had a responsibility to protect, encourage, guide and support Scorpius so that he could reach his potential. She left unspoken what she'd already tried to convey—that very soon, she'd be called away, and the responsibility would be Draco's alone.
Draco felt the presence of Death before he got to the bedroom. He thought of ordering Scorpius to stay outside until he confirmed his fears, but quickly changed his mind. He remembered how carefully Astoria had instructed him to meet her at the Mill, and to bring Scorpius, after which they'd go on together to whatever lay ahead. Draco faced that next step with dread. He had to show his son how a wizard bore tragedy. He also knew he really didn't feel like living in a world without Astoria.
"Scorpius, I don't think this is going to be very pleasant," Draco said. "I'm going to need your help and support. I will do my best to give you mine."
"I know, Dad," Scorpius said. "She's gone, isn't she?"
They stood looking at the door to the bedroom, which stood open a few inches.
"Let's go see her," said Draco in a very hoarse whisper. "Before everyone else gets here."
They crossed the great main room and Draco put his fingertips on the bedroom door. It swung open with a touch. Astoria lay in the center of the bed, where she and Draco had spent their wedding night, and where she always suspected they had started Scorpius the evening of the day she'd been given Father Zeus' blessing outside by the millpond.
Astoria had her Fitzgerald Odyssey in her left hand, which lay across her torso, just above her waist, and her right hand lay at her side, palm up, with the fingers and thumb held so she might have been holding someone's hand at the moment she died. Her feet were bare, and her sandals with silver trim were placed together on the floor beside the bed. The royal blue caftan was open at the top, and a tiny red dot was visible right above her heart.
Astoria looked like she had just lain down for a nap, but both Scorpius and Draco focused their eyes on her chest and didn't see movement. Draco noticed the envelopes first. He picked them up, read 'Draco' and 'Scorpius' and handed one over. Inside were handwritten notes for each of them, from Astoria. They each chose one side of the bed and sat down, taking the hand on that side, and sat there looking at Astoria's face.
Draco doubted either of them would be able to read the notes more than superficially until some time had passed, but he forced himself to get through his in case there were any time-sensitive last requests.
"Your mother wants a pyre," he said, looking up from his note. "She talked about it before, more than once, but it was really mentioning it in passing. She was serious. Well, I'll be."
Draco read on. Astoria loved them both. They weren't to mourn or get maudlin. Her life had been fun, curse or no curse, especially after she got such a fine family of her very own. She sent love to Lucius and Narcissa for accepting her as a Malfoy. Draco was to support Scorpius as long as necessary because he probably wouldn't make a lot of money as a scholar. The last paragraph was quite personal and detailed, something for Draco to keep to himself, for propriety's sake.
Scorpius read a similar note, not quite as earthy as Draco's. His father would need him, for a year or more, so he wasn't to give him any unnecessary scares or cause for alarm. After Draco got over his grief he would be free to develop friendships, and perhaps one would become companionship, even love. Scorpius should be generous with his father. He made friends much more easily than Draco did, so Draco might end up alone for decades. If Draco was lucky enough to find someone, Astoria hoped Scorpius could be kind enough to accept her, as long as she wasn't too horrid.
Scorpius couldn't help it. He started to laugh, then he began talking to Astoria.
"Oh, Mother, you are too much. You make me laugh when I feel like I'll start crying and cry forever."
Scorpius sat back down on the edge of the bed and held Astoria's hand while he read the rest of her note. It was more Astoria graciousness, with a subtle bit of humor at regular intervals. He was to feed the trout. Scorpius read it through, and through again. He lost count. Eventually, he folded the note card over and put it back in its envelope.
"Grandmother Greengrass?" Scorpius asked as he stood up. Draco nodded, not saying anything, tears running down both cheeks.
Draco heard Scorpius from the main room. The fireplace whooshed and Scorpius spoke to the flames:
"Greengrass Manor. Grandmother? Can you come to the Mill?"
Shortly after they'd spoken, Kendra arrived via floo. She wore a full-length dress of black linen, with long sleeves, white cuffs and a white collar. The end of her wand showed at her left wrist.
"The bedroom?" she asked Scorpius, after she had given him a kiss on the cheek and a long hug.
Scorpius nodded.
Scorpius followed Kendra into the bedroom. Draco still sat on the bed, holding Astoria's hand and looking at her face.
"Hello, Draco," said Kendra as she crossed the room.
After giving Draco the same kiss on the cheek and hug she'd given Scorpius, Kendra sat on the bed opposite Draco and took Astoria's other hand. She looked at Astoria's face, reaching out and fully closing her eyes. Kendra closed her own eyes and sat there, tears leaking out and streaming down her cheeks. She didn't let it go on. Before too long, she stood, drew her wand across her face and cast her freshening charm.
"Draco, I'm going to need to begin making arrangements," she said, "But you and Scorpius can be alone here with Astoria for a little while longer."
With Scorpius in the bedroom with Astoria and Draco, Kendra was free to work. The floo brought the Potters, then Hermione, whom Kendra needed to handle some of the administration and to owl the necessary witches. Kendra's witches began arriving in twos and threes. When everyone had said their good-byes, the family was tenderly shooed out, blinds were pulled down over the windows, and the witches began carrying out their duties.
Draco walked outside to find that almost everyone was gathered under the arbor. Weeping elves kept bringing food and beverages so that the table had to be subjected to repeated expansion charms. Daphne, Fabio, Harry and the children stood in a clump, with mourners stopping by for handshakes and long, squeezing hugs.
"She asked for a pyre," Draco said. "Oh, and this is for you, Iolanthe."
He handed over the leather-bound copy of the Fitzgerald translation of The Odyssey that Astoria had been reading just a few hours before. Iolanthe took the little volume with a whispered "Thank-you" before turning and walking away from the group.
"A pyre?" Fabio asked. "The only thing surprising about that is that it is not a surprise. One of a kind, right to the end."
"Yes, a pyre, everyone's welcome to take a little of the ash, once it burns out, and she specifically requested someone rake up some ashes for the trout pond. I guess the idea was at least some of her will spend eternity with them," Draco said.
Harry looked at Daphne.
"There is plenty of wood over that way," he said. "There are dead ones still standing, so they're nice and dry. All that's needed is to cut them down and work them up to proper size."
Fabio thought everything through. Kendra had finished what she could do inside and had left the witches alone with Astoria. She left the building and found the family group near the arbor.
"Astoria asked for a pyre," Fabio said, his arm around Kendra's waist. "Harry's got the seasoned timber over in those woods. We'd have to wait until everyone clears out, or we'll be flying logs into peoples' heads, but with a couple of elves we can work tonight and have it ready for morning."
Kendra looked at Draco.
"A pyre?" she asked.
Draco nodded, then he just had to laugh.
"Isnt' that just…" he said, leaving it there.
The yes's of consensus went 'round.
Kendra looked at Scorpius.
"Scorpius? You have a say," Kendra said.
"It seems okay," he managed to say. "Very Mum."
"It's perfect," Daphne said. "You're so right, Scorpius. It's your mum, through and through."
Iolanthe, who'd walked back over, didn't feel much like talking, but she could nod.
"Done," said Harry. "We'll work all night if we have to. Sunup tomorrow morning?"
"Yep," Draco said. "It sounds like that's what she'd want."
He looked at Scorpius, who gave a silent thumbs-up.
Harry, Fabio and James detached themselves and went to scout a safe spot for a pyre. Rose Granger-Weasley, arriving with Ron and Hugo, gravitated straight to Scorpius.
Rose gave Scorpius a long hug that included gently placing her hand behind his head and pressing it over to lean against hers. Iolanthe was looking Rose straight in her eyes and gave her a knowing half smile, causing Rose to smile, so Iolanthe had to look away. Rose let Scorpius go and stepped over to Iolanthe.
Iolanthe maintained her composure, somehow, when her friend pulled her close and began rubbing her back.
"How are you doing, sweetheart?" Rose asked.
"Not too well," Iolanthe said.
"I think you're doing great. You're just overwhelmed feeling all the love she left behind for you. That's what I think," Rose said.
She maneuvered to place herself to Scorpius' right, signaling with her eyes for Iolanthe to take his left side. Together they walked away from the group, arms interlaced. Some observers thought Scorpius looked a little shaky on his feet as the trio walked, but Rose and Iolanthe seemed to have the situation in hand, so everyone left them alone. They walked as far as the millstream, where they stood tossing pebbles in and sharing short comments and little anecdotes about interactions they'd had with Astoria.
The session did wonders for Scorpius' composure. Something about the 'plunk-plunk-plunk' of the stones hitting the surface, the sound of the running water, and the reminiscences about Astoria's influence in all their lives let him accept the container in the Mill wasn't his mother anymore. That woman had burst free from her physical restraints and assumed another, freer form, immutable and impervious to curses. Somehow, while he talked to his friends, Astoria's spirit found its way into Scorpius' heart, where he'd be keeping it forever.
Astoria still sat with Don Juan in New Mexico, waiting for whatever it was Hera thought she'd be needed for.
"Do you meet a lot of dead people, as a shaman, I mean?" asked Astoria.
"Not as many as everyone thinks," Don Juan answered. "Harry and I met right here. It was a very odd day. I'd been chewing peyote in my hammock, rather furiously, and was sitting here feeling hurt and disappointed that all my work seemed to be for nothing. I blamed the peyote, because I'd been finding the current product to be inferior to what I'd experienced in my apprenticeship. You spot the flaw in my reasoning, I'm sure. The peyote couldn't work through my own overwhelming egotism. The more I chewed and the harder I worked at trying to make the peyote do as I wanted, the less the peyote was able to cut through the noise. I was the one bringing the noise, with all my fretting. Then Harry appeared, right near where you're sitting. He was talking about swimming through some blue gelatin and a criminal casting a rebounding spell and I don't know what all. I was sure I was dead. He had a dog's head and wore a skirt. Have you heard of Anubis?"
"One of the Egyptian gods who conveys the dead to the scale where their heart is weighed?" Astoria asked.
"Yes, that one. A dog's head, bare chest, a short reed staff, and a skirt! Very out of place in New Mexico," Don Juan went on. "Well, anyway, we sat up here and told stories, and we finally decided neither of us was dead. My inconclusive peyote session kind of fizzled out, and I returned to my body in the hammock. Don Enrique and I next saw one another in a little bar and restaurant in Las Cruces. He introduced me to a professor friend from Princeton and we drank beer out of bottles and listened to a fantastic little band from Texas until your sister barged in and took them both back to Princeton."
"Did she?" Astoria asked. "You guys were having a good time, listening to some music, talking and drinking a beer, and she came in and just put an end to it? Just like that? Did she take the time to introduce herself, or join you in a beer, just to be polite?"
"Um, no," said Don Juan. "She was a bit agitated. Your brother-in-law had a habit of getting into dangerous situations, and she didn't always appreciate the necessity. We'd talked it all through in our earlier meeting."
"Anyway, Harry did manage to tell me he'd wandered in the desert as Anubis for several seasons before he got back to his wife the first time," Don Juan went on. "I've always wanted to have the opportunity to talk about that with him at length. That is some real shaman work, inadvertent or not. Anything he saw, or heard, or did while he was Anubis could have some significance. There could be a journal article in that."
"One of the anthropological journals?" Astoria asked.
"No, the shamans have a journal," Don Juan answered.
"So my circle and Harry's intersected with yours, and here we are back again where you two first met," Astoria said, then, as an afterthought, "Only he was Anubis at the time."
"Yes," Don Juan said. "He was Anubis, and neither of us were dead."
"Did that shock you?" Astoria asked. "Or would it have been more shocking if one or both of you were dead?"
"Shaman work means encountering the dead," Don Juan said. "It's inevitable with some rituals, if you're looking to placate a dead person, to take one obvious example. Maybe the spirit feels wronged or disrespected, so they bring a person lots of bad luck. A shaman might go seek that spirit out where it lives and ask what can be done. Broker a deal, you could say."
"Oh," Astoria said. "Hmmm…"
When the witches inside the Mill allowed mourners to enter, Scorpius took Draco's arm and led him in to stand at the foot of the catafalque, where they remained, shaking hands once again and listening to attempts at comforting words that were for the most part heartfelt but really quite awkward.
Astoria had received the loving care of several experienced witches. She had been bathed, her blue caftan washed, dried, carefully ironed, and put back on her, and she lay under a sheer sheet on her catafalque before the fireplace in the main room of the Mill.
Candles burned on the mantle and in two enormous wrought iron candelabra brought from Malfoy Manor. The sheer drape and the candlelight brought Astoria's face into a soft relief that left the people filing by feeling as if they had just been visiting an angel.
Draco could barely speak, his face immobile with the effort to keep himself from bursting into tears over and over. Scorpius, on the other hand, was extremely gracious, nodding respectfully when elders took his hand, getting almost all of the titles and honorifics right, and expressing sincere thanks for each person who had made the effort to come.
When the condolences and paying of respects had ended, the family stood around outside, some Blacks and other close friends keeping them company. No one wanted to slink away and leave Astoria alone.
Scorpius appeared to expand somehow, following his session throwing pebbles in the stream with Iolanthe and Rose. After that conversation he seemed stabilized and capable of handling anything fate handed him. He moved through the crowd of people, accepting expressions of sympathy, sharing little memories, thanking friends and family for coming.
The activity at the Mill wound down except for Harry, Fabio and James, who had gone to the woods to select trees for Astoria's pyre. They had formed up a crew of the two households' gardening gnomes, and were transporting the firewood and laying it up to give Astoria the sendoff she'd requested.
Narcissa and Lucius had excused themselves earlier and were back at Malfoy Manor. Scorpius stayed close to Draco and watched him closely. He couldn't have estimated the number of times Draco had said to him that Astoria saved his life. Scorpius didn't want to, but couldn't help fearing Draco would find living distasteful after her loss.
Tracey had come with Zelda and Blaise, but Blaise took the other two back to Morgan le Fay's for dinner, tea and London-viewing. Tracey would be coming back to Potter Manor, while Zelda would overnight with Blaise.
The Potters, Kendra, Draco and Scorpius were still scattered about the door yard when the sun went down. Iolanthe and Daphne had lined up the sling chairs and lay back looking at the sky, holding hands and starting stories with, "Remember that time…"
Astoria and Don Juan sat chatting on the edge of their cliff. Astoria spent some time bragging about her own young scholar and his interest in Merlin. Don Juan said he had become interested in comparative studies in shamanism which led to reading all the literature on Druids, which inevitably looped back to Merlin.
Astoria had a Druid question all ready to ask Don Juan as soon as she could get a word in.
"DAMMIT, Malfoy!" clove the peaceful New Mexico day, and a body was heaved up over the side of the cliff. It rolled over once and the person sat up.
"Scorpius! What are you doing here?" Astoria demanded.
Another person climbed up and stood on top of the mesa.
"And Iolanthe!" Astoria observed. "Answers, NOW!"
"I fell in the pond," Scorpius explained.
"I pulled him out of the pond after he jumped in!" Iolanthe expanded.
"I didn't jump, I just slipped. Got too close. Merlin, I stink," Scorpius said.
"Who's this?" Iolanthe asked, indicating Don Juan.
"Are we dead?" Scorpius asked, looking from Iolanthe to Astoria. "Is this the afterlife? Have you met Merlin, by any chance?"
He asked that last question a little too eagerly, for Astoria's taste, prompting her to restore order.
"Stop!" Astoria ordered. "No, I don't think you're dead. Don Juan isn't dead. He's in a state. He's a shaman. I have a theory, Don Juan, that you have constructed this desert over the years and you come to sit here and work on the problems people bring you. My escort brought me here on the way to wherever I'm going, so these two would have a place to land after their swim."
"Did you have to swim through some blue, gelatin-like stuff?" Iolanthe asked.
"Yes, I think you're right. It does feel like that is a good explanation for this place. Harry said he had to go through the blue gelatin," said Don Juan. "It's not something I made."
"Well, as long as we're here," Scorpius said, walking over and sitting next to Astoria on the edge of the cliff. Iolanthe sat down next to him on the side away from Astoria.
"Listen up, you two, I don't know how much time we have," said Astoria. "After I died, I had an escort who showed me the way here. I have to wait to go on until I accomplish something. She didn't tell me what that was, but I'm starting to think it has something to do with one of you, maybe both.
"You're here now, so please keep your mouths shut and let me get this said-my companion told me the curse is broken. Don't let concerns about a curse affect your life decisions. It's done, over with. One less thing to worry about. Please tell my sister, dear, that's a very witchy job for you, isn't it?
"Scorpius, be careful with all that Druid knowledge. Don Juan has been in the literature. If you ask, I'm sure he'll send you a bibliography. That would save you a lot of time. Don't go experimenting. He's a shaman. Ask him if you don't believe me.
"Now," Astoria continued. "One last thing. Am I going to get my pyre?"
"Yes," Iolanthe answered. "Father and Grandfather Greengrass and James and all the outdoor elves worked on it until sundown. It's all ready for tomorrow morning."
"You're going up with the sun," Scorpius added.
"Perfect," said Astoria. "Make it spectacular."
"That can be arranged," Iolanthe assured her. Scorpius cast a little questioning look but didn't comment or ask what she meant.
"Don Juan," Scorpius said. "How can I contact you?"
"Do you still use owls for letters over there?" Don Juan asked. "Pick out a big one with some flying range and just send me a note to Don Juan, Las Cruces, New Mexico. I'll get it."
"Come on, Scorpius, we've got things to do," Iolanthe said, hopping up and standing on the edge of the mesa.
"Hope to see you soon, Mother," Scorpius said, obviously not really thinking through the implications.
"No rush," said Astoria.
"I think it was right here," said Iolanthe. "Merlin, we'll be back in that water. I hope I can get the smell off before September."
When Scorpius walked up to the edge, Iolanthe grabbed him by his upper arm and kept him going, right out into freefall, following as soon as the way was clear.
"DAMMIT, Malfoy!" clove the peaceful Devon twilight, as a human form was thrown up over the mill pond embankment and rolled to a stop near the sling chairs. This was followed by heavy splashing and the appearance of Iolanthe climbing out of the water.