Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Astoria, Astoria
"All," Iolanthe greeted the assembly in the dooryard of the Mill.
"My letter," Scorpius said, some panic coming through. He jumped up and reached for the rear pocket of his trousers, coming up with a cream-colored envelope. He opened it and shook out the folded card inside.
"Whoo!" he said. The card was damp but the writing was intact. Scorpius held the card by a corner and fanned it rapidly, trying to dry it out just a bit faster.
"Iolanthe," said Daphne, in a variety of the professional, soothing tone she used with her patients. "One second you're sitting here talking and reminiscing, and the next you're in a millpond using rough language. Did you need to jump in after Scorpius? We've all had quite a turn, considering it appeared he just lost his footing and perhaps needed a hand up."
"It's alright, Aunt Daphne," Scorpius said. "Iolanthe thought it was worse than it was. It's good to know we can count on her, in a pinch."
"I'm going to splash in the clean water in the stream," Iolanthe announced. "Want to come? Leave anything you don't want to get wet here."
"We're going to clean up and then I need your help with something," Iolanthe said, when they got out of hearing range. She led the way to a spot on the millstream where a bend and a sandy bottom made a pool of clean, moving water.
"In," she ordered, after stepping out of her sandals.
"Hey! This is COLD!" Scorpius protested. Iolanthe just looked at him.
"All the way under," she said. Scorpius went down a little at a time.
"Just get in, Scorpius, you're acting like a Ravenclaw. It's just cold water," Iolanthe advised.
Something about being accused of Ravenclawism got through to Scorpius, and he held his breath and sat down in the pool. He sat there and sat there, then sat there some more, until Iolanthe took a fistful of his shirt and brought him up. Scorpius gave a good performance based on his impression of a man in severe distress, but Iolanthe did not find it credible.
"You're in luck, Scorpius," Iolanthe said as they climbed the stream bank.
"How so?" Scorpius asked as his teeth started chattering.
"I'm a witch, and I've got a wand," she said, casting a drying charm that started at Scorpius' feet and ended at the top of his head.
"Wow," was the most articulate thing Scorpius could come up with.
Iolanthe cast her drying charm on herself before heading back to the Mill.
"We have a debt to discharge," she said. "I'll explain on the way."
A considerable supply of leftovers still burdened the table under the arbor, among them a haunch of roast beef with the bone still in it. There wasn't that much meat left, but it was enough.
The remaining mourners were scattered around the Mill in little groups, telling stories and giving plenty of hugs. Daphne saw Iolanthe and Scorpius fidgeting around the table. Iolanthe wore a look her mother recognized as the signal that Iolanthe Astoria was primed to go off and be Iolanthe Astoria, so she left her alone. The next time she looked, Iolanthe and Scorpius were nowhere in sight.
Using wingardium leviosawas technically contrary to the published regulations for the restriction of underage magic, but Iolanthe was in no mood for either regulations, or restrictions. She and Scorpius levitated the roast beef with the great leg bone and a platter of cold sliced meats, crossed Fabio and Harry's stone footbridge, and struck out overland.
"Where are we going?" Scorpius asked.
"We owe," Iolanthe said.
"Who?" Scorpius asked.
"Lots of…" Iolanthe began. "Your mother, for one. She broke the Davis curse. We're free, Scorpius, for the first time since it happened, our family won't live in fear that we, or our children, or someone we love, like your mother, will have a curse show up in them. Something they had nothing to do with that comes back to punish them because an ancestor did something someone didn't like."
"Makes sense," Scorpius said. "Are we going to make a burnt offering?"
"Something like that," Iolanthe said. "How's your magic holding out?"
"Strong enough, for a Ravenclaw," Scorpius said.
"I deserved that," said Iolanthe. "Can you forgive me?"
"Depends," said Scorpius.
"On what? This isn't about your love life, by any chance?" asked Iolanthe.
"We don't have a love life," Scorpius told her.
"Sure you do," Iolanthe told him. "Know how I know?"
"You're determined to tell me, aren't you?" asked Scorpius.
"You just used 'we' instead of 'I' which means you have had some kind of conversation with Rose 'about' the two of you," Iolanthe said. "About, meaning you, and Rose, have talked and the subject wasn't you, or her, or books, but the collective you as an entity outside your first persons singular."
"I don't know what you're talking about with all of that. That's not even a sentence," Scorpius protested.
"Scorpius, did you mention, perhaps in passing, that you like Rose?" Iolanthe asked, simplifying for the male mind.
"Might have, if it's any of your business," Scorpius replied, sounding just a little testy.
"And did Rose, just conversationally, acknowledge that she likes you?"
"That's between Rose, and me," Scorpius declared.
"And did the two of you agree you each have many more years of study ahead of you and you mustn't get distracted or carried away or start thinking about making plans together until you have a realistic chance of making a living, supporting yourselves, establishing a home…?"
"Iolanthe…" Scorpius tried.
"Scorpius…" Iolanthe came back. "Don't worry, Rose didn't break any confidences. Besides, she would probably have Mega-Merlin jinxed me if I even mentioned it. You have my blessing, if that is important to you. Don't be reckless with her affection, Scorpius. She'll be my cosmic twin for many centuries to come. Not that I'm anticipating you would do such a thing. Just treat this carefully, please? I love you both. That's all I've got to say, unless you want to go on."
Scorpius gave no indication he felt the need to explore his feelings for Rose with Iolanthe any further.
"How much more?" Scorpius asked.
"Can you make it to that little knob?"
"Sure," Scorpius said.
After a pause he added, "I didn't think we were that obvious."
Iolanthe left it alone, but she did keep her beef haunch aloft with her wand while the opposite hand found her cousin's upper arm in the starlight and gave it a good squeeze.
They didn't speak again until they reached the mound. Iolanthe put the beef down on the ground, after looking around in the starlight for the grassiest spot.
"Here's good. Go ahead and put your tray down," Iolanthe said.
The night was lit up with a jet of flame accompanied by a roar, like wind blended with thunder.
"Stay here and be quiet," Iolanthe said, walking down the slope toward a clump of brushy plants.
Iolanthe switched to parseltongue, confusing Scorpius even more.
"North Star, it's me, Iolanthe," she said. "I've come to check on you. We have some food up on that little knob. Can we bring it down?"
"Iolanthe," said the dragon. "I'm glad you made yourself known. I nearly, ah, shed some light, to see who was walking up on us."
"Us? Then Astoria Iolanthe is well?" Iolanthe asked.
"Yes, thank you," said the dragon. "All due to the kindness of some strangers who happened along."
"That's good," said Iolanthe. "Now, how about some food? My cousin is up there. He doesn't speak the sacred tongue, but he's quite adept at labor."
"We'll be grateful for anything," said North Star. "I think I'll be flying tomorrow. I hope so, anyway."
"Well, then, let's get you and Astoria through the night," Iolanthe said, then, in English, "Scorpius, please bring that tray down."
"Iolanthe?" Scorpius said.
"It's fine, Scorpius, levitate that tray and just walk it down here," Iolanthe said.
Scorpius didn't have anything more to say, so he complied with Iolanthe's wishes. The tray was large, and still had a selection of sliced meats, little sausages and one or two boiled potatoes. He picked his way down the hill in the dark to the shadowy star-lit lumps at the bottom. Once there, he lowered the tray to the ground, right in front of a baby dragon.
"Okay, now the roast," Iolanthe said.
Scorpius gave her a look, but in the starlight the full ramifications didn't come through. In any event, he did what he was told, and soon had the big beef joint and the residual roast that still clung to it sitting on the tray before the dragons.
"Stay here," Iolanthe said to Scorpius in English.
"Have you tried the wing?" Iolanthe asked, returning to parseltongue.
"One time around this field," said the dragon. "It's almost there. We heal fast."
"This is my cousin," Iolanthe said. "His mother died earlier today. That was my Auntie Astoria."
She explained the arrangements for the morning, and went over her plan, assuming North Star thought she could do it.
"All set," Iolanthe said to Scorpius, bouncing to her feet before reaching down for his hand. "Think you can find our way back?"
"Merlin, Iolanthe," Scorpius said. "One, NO. Two, if I'd known that was part of the deal…"
"See the direction the Milky Way runs?" Iolanthe asked. "It was on our right coming out, keep it on our left going back. Take over. I won't let you get too far off. Take us back. It's good practice. No lumos. Navigate."
"Okay, but practice for what?" Scorpius asked.
"Contingencies," said Iolanthe. "Don't be such a bookworm."
"But I am a bookworm," Scorpius muttered, more to himself than to Iolanthe.
Astoria was still sitting with Don Juan looking across the desert from the top of the New Mexican mesa.
"I like it here," she said. "We have views from mountain tops and seascapes and that sort of thing, but nothing like this. Does anyone live around here?"
Don Juan took his time before answering.
"Strictly speaking, no," he said. "The reason being, this is all in my mind. You figured that out when your son and niece were here. I've been shamaning for fifty years and going into my trances, so it makes sense this was all built up over that time. The mesa was all by itself in the beginning, someplace to sit that was more interesting than a tree stump. Then little bits of detail got added whenever I came back. Now you've given me an knotty shaman technical problem—is the creator's construct restricting the range of the creator's skills in this world? All of those things we're looking at are artifacts I collected in my travels in the rational world. I'm remembering now, the flats down there were from a picture post card I sent to my grad students from Death Valley. It all crept in so stealthily I wasn't even aware."
Don Juan lapsed into silence while he stared out over his abyss.
"I thought I was done when the children left, but no Hera," Daphne said. "I suppose time is irrelevant, if one is working with eternity."
Don Juan heard her but had to hold onto her implied question in another compartment of his brain while he considered his own dilemma.
Their conversations divided, but stayed parallel.
"If I come here and go back with a possible answer, is my result the product of the environment or my skill and experience?" Don Juan asked.
"I wonder what Iolanthe meant when she said something spectacular could be arranged?" Astoria responded.
"If my client gets a usable response, is that the measure of an effective shaman, or is a better result possible through a fresher methodology?"
This went on for too long, if judging by the quality of information exchanged, but it was a shaman and a dead person chatting, so who could say how much good information would turn out to be there for future reference?
When Scorpius navigated them back to the Mill, Iolanthe went straight up to Draco and gave him a hug.
"How are you, Uncle Draco?" she asked.
"I'm standing here talking to a wonderful Slytherin wearing a crown of fairies," Draco said. "Under the circumstances, I'm as well as can be expected."
Iolanthe slid her arm under Draco's and led him over to the bench near the front door of the Mill. She sat down, more or less pulling Draco down with her. She saw Scorpius looking their way and motioned with her head for him to sit down on the other side.
"I'm going to have to go get cleaned up and changed," Iolanthe said. "I'll come back. We'll have to take turns. We can't let her be lonely tonight, but we all need to be fresh for the morning."
"Thank-you," Draco said. "You young people are really showing us something. Seriously. James was working everyone into the ground when they were building Astoria's pyre. Scorpius kept me upright when we were meeting everyone inside."
"Scorpius is quite remarkable," Iolanthe agreed. "Did you and Auntie sit on the bench often, when you stayed here?"
"Every time," Draco said. "Now that we're sitting here, it brings it all back, almost like I can sense her at times."
Iolanthe sat there, her arm under Draco's, and Scorpius' over Draco's shoulder. James emerged from a group of people in the dark and sat beside Iolanthe.
"Tired?" Iolanthe asked. "I hear you outworked everyone else."
"Maybe," James said. He yawned and considered. "Yes, I think I did."
"Good man, James," Scorpius said.
"I need to go home and clean up," Iolanthe said to James. "Do you want me to take you back? You can take a bath and get in your jams and go to sleep. We'll make sure you get back here in the morning."
Daphne and Harry were consulted, duties sorted, and Harry took Iolanthe and James back to the manor. After some back and forth, a stable, freshened-up group was back at the Mill by midnight. Kendra found herself sitting up all night once again, with Daphne, and Iolanthe, this time keeping watch over Astoria. The recollection of her vigil in St. Jerome's was inevitable.
Daphne had heard the story before, but it was new to Iolanthe. Kendra waited until only the three of them were inside with Astoria. Iolanthe and Daphne kept Kendra between them, arms over her shoulders, each one taking a hand. Kendra experienced her heart breaking all over again, twice this time, for Lily and Astoria, but Daphne and Iolanthe somehow made it bearable.
After the tears dried, Daphne broke the silence.
"We'll have to act like grownup witches," she said. "Astoria would not like to see us carrying on like this."
"Mother," Iolanthe said. "There is something I need to pass on. I don't understand it, but maybe you can help me. When Scorpius and I went into the millpond, we found ourselves under some thick blue goo, like gelatin that hasn't quite set. We had to swim to the surface, and I got him out and climbed up just like we did there on the bank of the pond, only we were on a cliff, in some desert, in America."
Daphne sat upright at the mention of the thick blue goo.
"Go ahead," she said.
"Well, Auntie Astoria was there. We talked to her," Iolanthe said.
"Was there anyone else?" Daphne asked.
"Yes, an elderly man in old blue jeans and a white shirt. Don Juan. He's a shaman, but he's also a scholar. He says he's met Father," Iolanthe finished up.
"Did your aunt say what she was doing there?" Daphne asked, considering every word.
"She died, and her escort to the next world brought her there to wait for something, or accomplish something, then they were going on," Iolanthe said. "She shushed us so she could tell us the Davis curse is broken. It is no more. I'm supposed to bring that back to you, by order of Auntie Astoria. She said it was a witchy job to give me."
Daphne looked between Kendra and Iolanthe. Kendra looked between Iolanthe and Daphne.
"That is very significant information, dear," said Kendra. "You're sure it was Aunt Astoria?"
"Oh, yes," Iolanthe said. "She was in her blue caftan, which she was wearing this morning when we read The Odyssey. Scorpius was there, like I said. She told us about the curse, then she introduced Scorpius to Don Juan, who has read all the literature on the Druids, which of course is of interest to Scorpius, with Merlin and all. She even volunteered Don Juan, kind of without asking, to send his Druid bibliography to Scorpius, to save him time. "
Kendra stared at Daphne, an air of expectancy thick between them.
Daphne stared at the flagstone floor, shaking her head a little.
"When Harry and I were in New York, when you were a baby, Iolanthe, we were cornered in our hotel room by a criminal who wanted an item Harry was carrying. It was all very need-to-know at the time, but Harry was the courier, the item was a decoy, and the ministry had set it all up to try to find a leak. The item carried a spell that booby-trapped it, and Harry tricked the man who was trying to steal it into triggering the spell. He got me out of the way, and he went somewhere. The blue gelatin was between this world, or plane or reality, and another one. He met Don Juan on that side and they kind of hit it off. He came back to our hotel, we turned the criminal over to the New York aurors, and the next day, at Princeton, he and Robert Goldstein were locking the thing up when a faculty member tried to steal it, and Harry got her to trigger the spell, and he and Robert went through the blue gel again, only this time they met Don Juan in a little pub in Las Cruces. They were sitting there listening to a band from Texas and drinking beer from bottles when I got to the lab. I just got enough of a look at them in the pub to have a memory of it, before we were back in Robert's lab calling the campus security auror."
Kendra and Iolanthe both sat there, staring at Daphne.
"That was the time…" Kendra started to say.
"That the patronus came and got me and brought me back to Harry," Daphne finished.
"I've never heard the whole story," Kendra said.
"Like I said, the whole thing was very hush-hush," Daphne said. "The minister complimented us on the successful completion of 'the operation' as he always referred to it. He didn't like my sticking my nose in but he admitted the improvisation was key to the successful outcome. The guy in New York had been a criminal for thirty years, and never served a day in jail. The professor at Princeton was a sleeper agent, activated just to steal our cargo."
They had been talking so long the candles were starting to gutter. There was a huge supply laid on, so Kendra and Iolanthe got up to replace the ones that had burned out.
Daphne left the main room for the Baths. Kendra turned to Iolanthe.
"How did you find her? Your aunt?" Kendra asked.
"Just like always. No different. She asked if she was going to get her pyre, and we both assured her she was. She said, 'Make it spectacular.'
"How do we do that? Whatever did she mean?" Kendra asked.
"I had one idea. You'll see," said Iolanthe.
Hera walked up to Astoria and touched her shoulder.
"OH!" said Astoria. "I didn't know you were back. You missed meeting my son and my niece. They were just here, but they've gone back now."
"Oh, they are the talk of Olympus, dear," said Hera. "Your niece is mastering magic far beyond her years. And that son of yours, my word, we have to put him in touch with some of our historians. He can make some real contributions, with a little encouragement and the right contacts. His work with the Glott manuscript is rippling outward already. If he completes the project he's contemplating, he'll be famous, at least among the specialists."
Don Juan, who'd had his own experiences with the academic specialists, looked at Hera and smiled.
"Madam," Don Juan said. "May I invite you to share our mesa? It is a bit spare, compared to one of your classical temples, but elegant in its own way."
"I'd love to, Don Juan, and I'd love to continue the philosophical discussion you were laying out," Hera said. "It will have to be another time, I'm afraid, because our young heroine here needs to be conveyed to her next stop. Keep an eye out for a woman in purple at your bar and grill. I have developed a love for those bands from Texas."
"So we're off?" asked Astoria.
"Oh, yes," said Hera, "I think you'll like this part."
Hera took Astoria's hand and slipped it under her arm, escorting her into what appeared to be a classical temple, with lots of Doric columns holding up pediments. In the center there was an oblong pool of water. Hera escorted Astoria to the marble surround and let her look down into the water. A little breeze sent ripples across the surface. When they settled down, Astoria looked down on the Mill. She could just make out the arbor, the pyre, and the silhouette of the Mill, a little glow coming from the windows. The millpond looked silvery in the starlit night. She noticed some movement across the stream and down the slope on the far side, but she couldn't tell what it was.
"Almost time," Kendra said. "How are we doing?"
"All set," said Millicent. "We have eight, with Pansy and me."
Millicent Bulstrode had worked the floo system with Pansy Parkinson throughout the evening, contacting Slytherin witches from Astoria's time at Hogwarts to serve as pallbearers.
"That's just wonderful, Professor," Kendra said. "That's so impressive, especially considering how the young people were so scattered around that time."
Left unsaid was the detail that so many of the Slytherins were in the ranks of the Dark Army. They were scattered because they'd wisely repaired to cottages in forests or on obscure, unnamed islets and lived quiet lives that kept them out of Azkaban. Even so, a few hours at the floo and some Bulstrode persuasion shook enough loose to make up a respectable escort.
It was July, and dawn would come early, so friends and family began arriving around four a.m. Blaise and Zelda floo'd to Potter Manor, had tea and muffins with Tracey, and walked together to the Mill.
"Mother, would you mind if I go check on something for a few minutes?" Iolanthe asked.
"No, that's fine, Iolanthe," Daphne said. "You've been wonderful company tonight. Do whatever you need to do."
Iolanthe hugged Daphne, then Kendra, and left them in the main room with Astoria and the old friends who had come in ones and twos through the wee hours.
Outside, Iolanthe quickly found Harry sitting on the bench with Draco and Scorpius.
"Father, can we…?" Iolanthe asked, walking up and indicating she wanted to talk.
"The pyre will need lighting," Iolanthe observed.
"It will," Harry said. "I have a wand, that I expected to use. Are you advising me I won't be needed?"
"As usual Father, you're too smart for any of us," Iolanthe said.
"So astute," Harry responded. "What do you have in mind?"
Iolanthe outlined her plan, finishing with a request that Harry get help in keeping the area around the pyre clear of bystanders. Harry studied Iolanthe's face. He concluded she really thought she could do it. Beyond that, he decided if Iolanthe Astoria thought she could do it, his best course of action was to facilitate whatever Iolanthe Astoria wanted.
The congregation of witches and wizards had assembled in the dooryard of the Mill by the time the first rosy streaks appeared in the eastern sky. The light got stronger by the minute. Kendra, Draco and Daphne took a collective decision that it was time to move Astoria's body to the pyre. Kendra cast an enlargement charm on the door. Everyone held their breath while they assessed the structural integrity of the Mill, but the magic held, and so did the supporting walls.
Millicent and Pansy formed up their honor guard of pallbearers and gave careful instructions for levitating the pallet on which Astoria rested. The sheer sheet came up with Astoria and the witches walked slowly out the door and across the dooryard to the pyre.
Harry had spoken to Blaise about Iolanthe's plan, and asked his help in keeping a generous space around the pyre. Millicent's witches raised their wands and carefully placed Astoria atop the great mound of firewood. None of Astoria's close family members thought they would be able to get through a simple eulogy without breaking down, so Bill Weasley read one drafted by Harry and Fabio, then made some brief remarks about what joy Astoria had brought everyone over the years.
Iolanthe kept an eye on the horizon and listened closely for cues in Bill Weasley's eulogy. When the first thin section of the sun's edge appeared, Bill Weasley concluded his remarks.
"Get them back, Father," Iolanthe said, drawing her wand as she headed toward the stone bridge. She stopped at the apex of the arch and put the wand to her throat.
"GORR!" she called out and the sound of great fans beating the air started up, becoming louder and louder as the dragon rose up into the air and flew toward the Mill.
Iolanthe turned around and joined the ring of mourners that Blaise had pushed well back from the pyre. Gorr, or North Star, circled the Mill and plotted her trajectory. She dipped one wing, lowered her head, straightened out and dove for the pyre. She passed by, turned her head and blew flame from her nostrils. Mother dragons, like some crocodiles and fish, can take their babies into their mouths to escape danger. As Gorr flew by, Iolanthe saw little Astoria Iolanthe's nostrils protruding from her mother's mouth, adding her own little flames to the effort.
Gorr flapped her wings, gained altitude, turned and dove a second time, on the opposite side of her first pass, again blowing great gouts of dragon flames at the dry wood of Astoria's pyre. The second treatment had the entire structure of the pyre fully involved, the flames engulfing the top layer, and Astoria, lending some privacy to the final moments of her body's physical existence. Witches and wizards began pointing their wands toward the sky and sending up great sparking salutes to Astoria.
"Astoria!" Daphne shouted in farewell.
"Astoria!" Kendra and Fabio agreed.
"Astoria! Astoria!" answered the assembly.
Iolanthe stood holding Scorpius' hand, on the side opposite Rose, and asked, "Spectacular?"