Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Thirty-Four
Harry Befogged
Harry sent his card to the Malfoys by owl, before breakfast, proposing a call at Malfoy Manor at ten. Narcissa replied, also by owl, while Harry sat at the end of the dining table, with Daphne to his left, enjoying a generous helping of scrambled eggs with a craft cheddar melt over the top. Daphne's feet were bare, but Harry wore thick wool socks. One of Daphne's feet was getting a good dose of footsie from both of Harry's.
"Harry Potter?" Daphne asked.
Harry looked up from his plate.
"Yes, Daphne?" Harry answered.
"Are you even aware of what your feet are doing?"
"Yes," Harry said. "I am. It feels really good. Should I change to the other foot?"
"It might be a good idea as I fear a lanolin overdose if the wool keeps going over the same spot any longer."
Harry freed the foot he'd been massaging and returned to his scrambled eggs.
The owl arrived, back from the Malfoys and distracted Harry, forcing Daphne's other foot to go looking for some wool socks to rub.
"We're on, ten o'clock," Harry said, "Want to go?"
"Normally I'd say yes, but it's not advisable," Daphne said. "I have one more move to make. I'll save it for Greengrass Manor."
Iolanthe heard of the visit to the Malfoys and decided to come along and see Scorpius. Harry didn't tell her, but he was pleased she was going. The two of them arriving at Malfoy Manor could be seen in different ways, sowing a little doubt and confusion, should anyone be watching. Harry thought there was a chance someone would be observing his movements, or at least trying to.
Harry wasn't one to meddle in his childrens' clothing choices. He did mention to Iolanthe that she might want to dress warmly. They couldn't count on the sun in late December. He would be wearing his black traveling cloak. Iolanthe got the hint, choosing a very dark purple mid-length dress with lots of room in the skirt, tall black boots with laces and a natural rubber lug sole. The dress came up to her neck and finished with a collar not unlike that on a dress shirt, so she picked out an emerald green bow tie to finish off the look of a young witch with taste. Iolanthe put her hair up and covered it with a black knit tam. She followed Harry's lead and wore her black traveling cloak.
Harry and Iolanthe apparated to Malfoy Manor, in the interest of letting anyone interested know they were not sitting around Potter Manor or #12 Grimmauld Place waiting for events to transpire and tell them what to do. Harry walked up to the iron gates and drew his wand. One of Lucius' white peacocks screeched from somewhere.
"Be right there!" Scorpius shouted from the door. The door half-closed before opening again, letting Scorpius out. Scorpius hopped and did something odd with one foot, giving the appearance of being someone getting into his shoes at the same time he was trying to walk somewhere. Sure enough, Scorpius touched his wand to the gate, which responded by opening then stood aside on one foot, index finger inside the heel of the opposite shoe.
Shoes arranged and gate closed, Scorpius escorted his guests up the hedge-lined gravel walkway to the front door of Malfoy Manor. Harry's wand vibrated a little, a kind of soft, sub-audible hum, perhaps of protest. The first time it had been to Malfoy Manor, it had been broken, in a bag Harry wore around his neck. Harry had come out of that disastrous visit with Draco Malfoy's wand. He triumphed over Voldemort using Draco's wand, then used the elder wand he'd won from Voldemort in personal combat to repair his own holly wand. Harry rubbed his wand with his thumb, thinking calming thoughts, and before long it had settled down.
He needed his wand at the step. Harry and Iolanthe cast purgio to get the grit off their foot gear, then they each cast the charm to open the closures, or in Iolanthe's case, to untie and unlace her boots.
"Everyone's in the dining room," Scorpius said, leading the way. Harry noticed a large salon filled with chairs and couches to the right, a great Christmas tree in the corner, green and silver ribbon draped in an elaborate criss-cross pattern.
"They're here!" Scorpius announced as he walked in the dining room. Lucius appeared a bit chagrined as Harry looked around the room. Narcissa was nearly-inscutable, as always. Draco focused on Harry and Iolanthe, striding forward with his hand out.
"Harry. Iolanthe," Draco said.
"Draco," said Harry, before looking toward Lucius and Narcissa. "Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for receiving us."
"Welcome, Harry," said Narcissa. "And Iolanthe—can we take those cloaks?"
Harry and Iolanthe slipped their traveling cloaks off their shoulders. Harry took Iolanthe's and handed both to Scorpius, along with his beret. Iolanthe kept her tam on her head.
"This way," Scorpius said to Iolanthe, showing a certain eagerness to be done with adults and their obsessions.
"Something to drink, Harry?" Draco asked.
"I never turn down mineral water," Harry said. "Still or otherwise, makes no difference to me."
Draco stepped out into the hallway and spoke to someone.
"Please sit down, Harry," Lucius said.
Harry took a seat and Lucius and Narcissa sat as well. Draco returned and sat next to Narcissa. Draco was closely followed by a house elf wearing a full butler's uniform, who carried a small green bottle of mineral water and a glass on a silver tray. The butler elf put both in front of Harry, bowed and left.
"How is Daphne?" Narcissa asked. "Ready for Christmas?"
"Oh, Christmas," Harry said, "I was ready to answer whether she was ready for 'it' to be over. Yes and Yes."
"What is James doing with his break?" Draco asked.
"If the materials arrive today as promised, he'll soon be building himself a greenhouse down the hill from the house," Harry said. "Between Fabio and Teddy, I suppose it was inevitable. The young man has the touch."
"Excellent," Lucius said. "There is no such thing as too many magical growers. I really appreciate Fabio's work, as a consumer."
"Thank-you, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said. "I'll pass that along, with your permission."
Lucius Malfoy nodded, while Narcissa smiled her half-smile.
The stiff conversation went on, never truly warming up. There was too much shared history in that house, and among the people sitting around the table. That didn't apply to Iolanthe and Scorpius, though.
"Mum," Scorpius said, simply enough, as he led Iolanthe into the great salon with the Christmas tree. Scorpius waved his hand at a portrait of Astoria, the only one on a paneled wall to the right of the door. Iolanthe could see numerous holes in the dark paneling, and guessed a wall of paintings had been requisitioned to give Astoria a competition-free venue. Below the portrait stood a table, made of several kinds of wood, with turnings, bronze hardware, and a compass rose of marquetry inset in the center of the top. A cobalt blue box sat in the center of the rose. Iolanthe knew that inside the box there would be a small black jar, with a cover, inside of which were some of the ashes from Astoria's pyre.
"Hullo, Auntie," she said, reflexively, a definite catch in her throat. Iolanthe turned her attention to Scorpius before she lost control.
"How are you?" Iolanthe asked, taking a sincere, plain and simple approach.
"It's hard," Scorpius said, "I can't lie. On the other hand, she said in the letter she wrote me that we weren't to become maudlin, so I try to honor her wishes. Want to shake presents?"
"Of course," Iolanthe said. "Got anything good?"
Iolanthe knew the answer to that because she saw the green tissue paper with the silver bow she'd seen on the train.
Harry was disciplining himself, back in the dining room, determined to let the conversation go on until sunup tomorrow if that was what it took to get Narcissa and Lucius to relax a bit and let their guard down. He didn't expect to get solid information out of them, at least not immediately. It was more important that they hear from him that there were signs something untoward was at work, that he had picked up little tremors, and some of his colleagues had as well, independent of each other. Then, if the Malfoys didn't run at the first hint of trouble, he'd make his pitch. They might hear something. Someone might come to them with a proposition. Lucius could be seen, by those who knew only his reputation, as a person with a grievance against the current order, a disgraced former Death Eater who lived quietly because the ministry gave him no other choice. Such people might think Lucius, or Draco, coveted the power and influence Harry held, thinking it was rightfully theirs.
"How is Daphne's grandmother?" Draco asked.
"Feisty, last time I saw her," Harry said. "Daphne, Tracey and I went to see her the week before Black Christmas. The youngsters were all in school, so it wasn't as much fun. She graciously pointed that out to us. She's mad for the great-grands, it is plain."
"She is a classic," Narcissa said. "She is just like those ancient witches we had when I was a child. I was in awe of them. Anytime there was a magical gathering there always seemed to be two or three of them present. They would sit there together and they'd preside. That's the only word for it. Magnificent women, some of them."
"That is Grandmother Davis," Harry said. "I consider it a privilege to have gotten to know her."
"She really told you she preferred the children?" Draco asked.
"She did. Not brutally. Just observed 'It's not the same without the little ones, is it?' and 'How is Zelda, Tracey? Has Scorpius been over lately, Daphne?' School notwithstanding," Harry said. "Well, we're appreciating every day we get."
"Something about your body language says you didn't come solely to tell us about your visit with Grandmother Davis, Harry," Narcissa offered. "Unless I've lost my touch."
"You haven't, of course," Harry said. "Your reading is one hundred percent accurate…"
Harry went on, starting with the little hints that had been emerging over the past few months. He left out the one that centered on Iolanthe and her school friend, because he didn't think it necessarily added any critical information. Even if he withheld the names and places, it might be too easy for a good analyst to figure out who the principals were.
"Then, there's the Daily Prophet piece," Harry said.
"Yes, Harry, that was a hatchet job," Lucius said, clearly taking a little offense at the author, and the editors who put the article in the paper. "Totally unfair, not just to you, but your family and friends. You and Daphne have been completely transparent about everything in there. All of the witches and wizards who count have seen what you've done and applaud you for it. That's what you get for being decent."
Harry didn't have a ready response, nor, it appeared, did Narcissa or Draco. Lucius' little speech was so unexpected, Harry sat there thinking.
"Well," he said, "Neither of us want anything for it. We saw some vulnerable people we could help. Pretty simple."
"The thing is," Harry went on, "The timing of the Daily Prophet piece and the other bits rumbling about suggests a connection, initially focusing on me. My conversations didn't lead to a definitive conclusion. So, we have to consider the possibility.
"Not making any suggestions, no allusions to history, I assure you," Harry said. "However, if anyone starts putting out feelers, and you're uncomfortable, for any reason at all, you can let me know and the ministry can look into it. If you want to cut off contact with them, that is fine, too. I hope you can bring it to me anyway. The ministry just wants to get to the bottom of whatever is going on. And protect magical Britain from any more disruption, of course."
"Of course, Harry," Lucius said, standing up. "Say, you haven't seen that portrait, have you?"
"Not since it got here," Harry said, standing up as well.
"This way," Lucius said, leading the way to the door. "Draco? Narcissa?"
Both demurred, so Lucius and Harry went alone. Lucius opened a large door down the hallway from the dining room.
"Here it is," Lucius said, waving toward the magical portrait from Astoria and Draco's engagement party. It was still on the easel, or more properly, on an easel, just as Astoria had related, what? Fourteen, fifteen years ago? Harry was shocked to see how young everyone looked. He hadn't noticed Walburga wearing that nice grande dame smile before, or perhaps he had and had forgotten. Either way, it was a good look for her.
"Oh, my, where did the time go?" Harry asked.
"Come on, Harry, you're a young man, by wizarding standards," Lucius said. "Now, the issue at hand. There have been little things, little hints that something is stirring. As far as I know, none of the old timers are involved. No one has approached me. Maybe I'm seen as too close to you, because of the Greengrass connection. My guess would be that young, ambitious types want to displace the old guard. They aren't enamored of the Dark like my kind were. They aren't motivated by pureblood snobbery, either. Money is always a possibility.
"You have my word, Harry," Lucius laughed. "If anyone shows up trying to recruit me, or us. Did you ever think you'd hear that coming from me? Just be careful. Since the end of the war, Kingsley has led us well. Wizardry has prosperity, tranquility, opportunity. Yes, it's true. If a wizard wants to really explore magic and do something useful, like brew potions, this is as good a time for that as I've ever known. But then there are wizards who require chaos."
"Yes," Harry said. "Youth pushing elders, downtrodden demanding a little piece for themselves, the chronically unsettled looking for something. Someone is always looking for a way to exploit them."
Lucius led the way into the hallway and across to the salon, where Narcissa and Draco had joined Scorpius and Iolanthe. The young witch and wizard had been sitting on the floor inspecting presents, trying to guess contents with shaking, hefting, tilting, even smelling. Harry walked in with Lucius and looked around the room.
"Iolanthe?" he said, before getting his first look at Astoria's portrait.
"Oh," he went on, but just. Harry stood there looking at the smiling Astoria. The portrait caught her in one of her Astoria moments of happily living life just the way it came, taking everyone within shouting distance along with her.
"Gosh," Harry said, when he got his voice back. "Great portrait of Astoria."
"Seamus and Dean's guy," Draco said. "We met at the party, and Astoria always thought he was the best."
"Ready?" Iolanthe asked, standing up from her spot on the floor.
"Ready," Harry affirmed. He took one last look at Astoria's portrait before turning.
All of the Malfoys came along to walk them to the front door, where Iolanthe and Harry put their shoes back on their feet and closed them with waves of their wands.
"Thank you for listening to my whining," Harry said.
"Thank you for coming," Lucius said. "Come back anytime."
Harry and Iolanthe walked back down the gravel path between the Malfoy's hedges, to the gate. A white peacock screeched, this time in farewell.
Harry had avoided Malfoy Manor since his, Ron's and Hermione's involuntary visit just before the final battle. That experience had required many hours of therapy and more of meditation to cage and somewhat tame. Many bad things had happened to too many good people, and one house elf, in too short a time. After all his work, Harry got to a point where he could acknowledge the experience. He'd given up on trying to do more.
"So, who is getting what for Christmas at the Malfoys'?" Harry asked as they passed through the gate.
"Several had some kind of occlusionary enchantment, but of those that don't, there are dried and potted herbs from Narcissa, potions for everyone from Lucius, and what look like books, one for everyone, with little tags for the recipient but no name for a sender," Iolanthe reported. "Scorpius suspects Auntie Astoria left books for everyone with Draco."
"Sounds like her," Harry said. "How is Scorpius doing? This can't be easy for any of them."
"Surprisingly well," Iolanthe said. "He likes to talk about seeing her on the mesa. We don't know what to think about that."
"I doubt if anyone would," Harry said. "I have spent thirteen years thinking about that mesa, and the desert, and I can't get past whether the mesa was real or not. Did Scorpius ever reach out to Don Juan for that bibliography, by the way?"
"He did," Iolanthe said, "He got a letter a few weeks later saying it was nice meeting him, here were the references, and feel free to write any time. Also an invitation to Las Cruces, but to write ahead first to make sure Don Juan was going to be in town."
"Amazing," Harry said. "So we have independently established the reality of Don Juan."
"Are we going anywhere in particular?" Iolanthe asked as they strolled away from Malfoy Manor.
"How about home, then we see if your mother would like us there, or someplace else out of her hair?"
There was a little patch of evergreens just off the lane that made for a discreet spot for disapparation. Harry linked arms with Iolanthe and they arrived at the Potter Manor green after the usual trip through the neck of the funnel.
Harry looked around. He could still smell a little wood smoke, so he suspected the midwinter revel had gone on for as long as the stamina of the woodlanders held out. James was downhill from the established beds in the garden, walking around a pile of construction material with Fabio, Teddy, and a crew of garden elves. Fabio had a handful of parchments, which Harry thought were probably plans or materials lists.
"Here's something new," Harry said, taking off in the direction of James' project. "I guess this makes my question for your mother irrelevant. We won't disturb her out here."
"Look," Iolanthe said, pointing toward the house, where Daphne was crossing the patio, Tracey and Zelda matching her deliberate pace.
Daphne was wearing a caftan, the felt slippers, and wore a shawl around her shoulders that could have served as a fairly good-sized tent. The late December air was cold, but the day was sunny. Daphne stood on the patio, shaking out her caftan.
"Aaaaaah!" Harry and Iolanthe heard her say, followed by some giggles from Zelda.
Daphne waved, so Harry and Iolanthe waved back. Daphne, Tracey and Zelda sat on patio chairs and looked at the construction site. The frame of the greenhouse started going up as Harry and Iolanthe were walking.
"Nice," Harry said, looking at the framing. Doors were outlined at both ends, and soon there were elves aloft, placing and securing roof components. Watching the operation progress, Harry wondered if the wizards were actually superfluous to the successful completion of the project.
"Merry Christmas, Grandfather," Iolanthe said, stretching out an arm and giving Fabio a hug.
"Merry Christmas to you, Iolanthe Astoria," Fabio responded. "Will we be seeing you tomorrow?"
"Mother probably has the answer to that," Iolanthe said.
"I expect so," Harry said. "Her normal energy is going into planning at the moment. Her movements are so restricted she has to move vicariously. We'll have to arrange something. It wouldn't do for the children to have Christmas without their grandparents. Thanks, by the way for all of your help with this."
"You're welcome, although I should be thanking you, and these young men, for giving me the chance to build a few things with them," Fabio said.
Teddy and James looked up and gave Fabio a smile.
Harry checked his watch. The crew would need feeding soon. He called for Periwinkle and asked her to bring sandwiches and hot chocolate for everyone.
"Want to see if your mother thinks she can come down?" Harry asked Iolanthe. "She might want to take a closer look at the new construction going up between her and the Dart."
He didn't expect Daphne to take him up on it, but the next time he looked, Iolanthe and Tracey were walking down the hill on either side of Daphne.
"Mum," James said when he looked up from his work and saw Daphne. "I didn't expect you to be here."
"How could I not?" Daphne said. "All my wizards are here in one place, so of course I had to come and hold court. Teddy, where have you been? What are you growing in your greenhouse?"
"Some of the herbs," Teddy said, "Basil, chamomile, foxglove. I'm thinking of going into mandrakes now that I've got more space."
"Have you decided what you're going to grow first, James?" Daphne asked.
"Sure, tomatoes," James said. "I require fresh tomatoes. After I get my fill I'll think of what I'm going to plant second."
"Brilliant, James," said Teddy.
Everyone worked while grabbing bites of sandwiches and gulps of hot chocolate, to get the building up while the weather was favorable. Tracey and Iolanthe got Daphne back up the hill and inside Potter Manor. Iolanthe came back down to tell Teddy not to worry about dinner because Daphne had invited Victoire and Andromeda and they'd all be eating together at the Potters.' Fabio, on the other hand, was expected at home. No explanation was forthcoming.
Construction of a very nicely-sized greenhouse doesn't consume a lot of time, if one has a wand and some skilled elves to work with, and James' was up and glazed before dark. He didn't have the interior fitted out to hold the plants or water inside the building, but there was time to get that accomplished before heading back to Hogwarts.
Fabio had left around three. Shortly before five an owl arrived informing Daphne that Kendra and Fabio were free, after all, and would be along shortly. Fabio and Daphne had foreseen that kind of development when they were designing Potter Manor, and built expansion charms into the dining room. Those fitted nicely with the infinitely expandable dining room table Daphne found with the help of Seamus and Dean. Periwinkle made a few menu adjustments and additions, and dinner was served.
Despite what turned into a memorable family feast, Harry was awake very early on Christmas morning. Bits and pieces from the last few days whirled around in his mind, ceaselessly, stubbornly refusing to fit together, or hold still so Harry could move them around himself. He was particularly concerned about Iolanthe and James. Someone advised Iolanthe's friend to stay away from Potters. Maybe they just didn't like Potters. There were students from magical families that would have had bad experiences with him or his friends. Maybe it was a simple grudge.
What if it wasn't? Harry had, without intending to, acquired an agent in the person of his own daughter. Her friend could be vulnerable to coercion, or worse. What if she were turned against Iolanthe? James was there, too, and had nothing to do with any of Harry's work for the ministry, but was exposed just the same. Was there danger anywhere? Was Harry sinking into paranoia?
Harry knew he needed help sorting everything, but there was one person in the world he could talk to, and he was determined to leave her alone as long as he could. For now, all he would be able to do was watch, wait and prepare.
Harry was sitting in a wing chair by their bed when Daphne woke up Christmas morning. They exchanged 'Merry Christmas' greetings. Daphne swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, while Harry jumped up with a late, somewhat lame, "Let me…"
"I'm fine, get me some coffee, please?" Daphne said, picking up the treadbare crimson and gold bathrobe from the foot of their bed.
Freshened up, caffeinated and ready to face the day, Daphne pulled on a billowy emerald and silver caftan and summoned Harry with a "Let's go!" Muffled sounds from the salon betrayed the early scouting expedition around the Christmas tree. Harry and Daphne were the last to arrive, and found James, Iolanthe, Tracey and Zelda already there and waiting.
"Merry Christmas!" was exchanged at deafening volume. Harry declared Christmas officially on, and the presents fair game. Present-opening, thank-yous, breakfast and some preliminary trying-on took several hours. Once completed, the magical Christmas morning gave way to the magical Christmas afternoon.
Wizarding households engaged in elaborate Christmas footwork to allow visits to friends and relatives. Families negotiated with four or five others to arrange an hour or two of at-home to receive guests, before closing shop and embarking on their own calls. Visits, toasts and nibbling from vast buffets sometimes went on far into the night, depending on reserves of stamina.
The Potters were not all going to be paying calls this Christmas due to Daphne. Harry and Tracey took everyone to Greengrass Manor, the Burrow, and the Davis celebration at Tracey's grandmothers. The last was a bit subdued, for a magical Christmas, out of consideration for the old lady's age. Still, she delighted in seeing the children, including Scorpius, who showed up with a striking knit Slytherin scarf that he wore even after hanging up his traveling cloak.
"Beautiful scarf," Iolanthe said, keeping her voice down.
"Thank-you," Scorpius said, "I thought you might have seen it before."
"I don't know, Scorpius," Iolanthe replied, "That has the look of one of those master knitters from the Gryffindor common room. Not much chance someone like me would be in there looking at the works-in-progress."
After Harry and Tracey got the children home, everyone headed for the salon and revisiting the presents. A long discussion followed with additional thank-you's for presents received and highlights from the afternoon's travels. Harry sat in the middle of everything, watching, not saying much, just savoring the moment. He knew he had to talk to Daphne, and he'd have to tell her about Iolanthe and her friend. It had to be done before everyone went back to Hogwarts.
Harry had no way of knowing how Daphne would react. He didn't think Iolanthe was in any more danger at Hogwarts than she was with them. That didn't mean Daphne would see the situation the same way he did. Harry resolved to speak to Daphne, sometime on Boxing Day. Putting off the inevitable wouldn't make it any easier.
The opportunity arose the following morning. Afterwards, Harry thought he'd gotten off fairly easily. Daphne showed a little agitation when Harry synopsized Iolanthe's report of her contacts with Lissette, but the possible connection with whatever else was rumbling didn't seem to bother her. When he finished, Daphne sat with a distant look, pinching her lower lip.
"Okay," she said at last. "No need to over-react. Iolanthe's part could be isolated, some clan doesn't like Potters, on principle, and doesn't want their daughter or niece or cousin anywhere near us. That I would understand."
"Oh?" Harry said.
"Oh?" Daphne came back. "Yes, Harry, those years I spent in Slytherin weren't entirely wasted. Some of those people won't learn from their mistakes. The only thing that will cure their nostalgia for Voldemort will be crossing the River Styx. Then they'll likely turn and flip you off one last time before they step into the boat."
"Ah," Harry said. "You're not furious with me for listening to Iolanthe and not coming straight to you, then?"
"No, I understand your position," Daphne said. "You aren't going to recruit her for your nefarious purposes, are you?"
"No," said Harry, "That's not for me. I know myself well enough, and I couldn't be objective about Iolanthe or James. If she wanted to do something like this she would be better off as an auror, or an Unspeakable. Do the research, solve the puzzle, same warm fuzzy feeling, without the sneaking around.
"Besides, I have always thought she was modeling herself on you," Harry went on. "All these animals, magical and otherwise, traipsing around, field notes—she's a budding magical biologist of some kind, or maybe another healer.
"Now, I propose we bring her in and I'll confess I had to brief you on our conversation, so she knows from the outset and doesn't stumble across it thus finding out her parents lied by omission."
"If that's what you think is best, I'm in," Daphne said. "To be honest, I'm of two minds, so let's do it your way."
The conversation with Iolanthe was surprisingly easy. She seemed to understand Harry had to confide in Daphne where she was concerned, confidentiality notwithstanding.
Harry finished up with a little cautionary lecture.
"There are indications that someone is plotting something extra-legal," Harry said, picking his words. "Nothing definitive has emerged. It could be the normal currents of society. Peaceful change through the political process, new knowledge affecting social arrangements, generational change. If it is something else, we want you to stay well clear, if you will, please. You're not to start thinking you're deep cover and have reporting responsibilities. Understand?"
"Yes, Father," Iolanthe said, "I don't go looking for trouble."
Harry looked at Daphne, who pointed her index finger at Harry's middle as if it were a three and one-half inch rapier.
"Touche'," she said.
Harry would have liked to respond, had appropriate words occurred to him.
The days flew by, mid-term break came to an end and Harry found himself back on the platform with the Granger-Weasleys, Tracey and his own two Hogwarts scholars. Rose, Scorpius and Iolanthe formed up and invited the first-years to clump with them, but the other three had their own conversations to make and drifted away. Harry made sure everyone got aboard, took a last look around for left-behinds where they'd all been standing on the platform, and turned to leave. As he walked toward the barrier, someone handed Harry a sheet of parchment, which Harry accepted, giving it a quick look as he followed in Ron and Hermione's wake.
"YOU ARE CALM AMID CHAOS" the banner at the top said. Harry assessed it was a magical product advertisement of some kind, masquerading as a self-help leaflet. Someone was always handing them out, although most of the ones he saw were for muggle products, directed at muggles and lying in one of the public trash cans around muggle London.
"FREE LECTURE" said another banner at the bottom of the sheet, which Harry noticed as he folded it in quarters and stuffed it into a pocket in his traveling cloak.
Many of the parents in Harry and Daphne's age group made their way to the Leaky Cauldron on the days their students returned to Hogwarts. They drank mineral water or butterbeer, some of the more adventurous would have a firewhiskey, some ordered lunch, and everyone enjoyed the company for an hour before splitting up to go home. Harry sat down in the little booth by the fireplace, where he was joined by Tracey and Hermione, Ron having gotten into a conversation about wands with some fellow enthusiasts.
"Tell Daphne we miss her," Hermione said.
"I'll do that," Harry said. "With complete sincerity."
"When does she want to go to Greengrass Manor?" Tracey asked. "She still hadn't made up her mind the last time I asked."
"She wanted to wait until the fifteenth or sixteenth," Harry said. "They're due the fifteenth of February. Are you going to join her this time?"
"I'll go with her," Tracey said. "We'll see if she kicks me out."
"I don't really put a lot of credence in that possibility, Tracey," said Hermione.
"Me neither," Tracey said. "Who's Jacques Lafleur?"
"Mystery man," Harry said. "Hermione?"
"One of those mystic, New Age wizards, or there is one named Jacques Lafleur," Hermione said. "Doesn't mean there can't be more than one."
"This one is a vampire," Tracey said, "At least according to the fine woodwork of this booth."
"I'm going to have that panel replaced," Hannah Abbott said, setting some drinks in front of them.
"Why?" Tracey and Hermione asked together.
"That's some pretty good carving," Tracey added.
"There was a witch in here a few days ago and she sat in the booth and conjured a flame in front of that," Hannah said. "I asked her to put it out, nicely. She didn't want to because, according to her, I didn't understand, but if I did, I wouldn't ask that of her. I didn't have to tell her to leave, but I did make it clear those were her choices. She didn't like it but she stayed for the food she'd ordered. Gave me a look when she left."
"Guru wizard and vampire," Tracey said.
"With acolytes," added Hermione.
"Lovely," said Tracey.
Harry and Tracey used the floo to get back to Potter Manor. With Zelda back at school, and Daphne so near to term, Tracey planned to return to her room at the Potters,' rather than rattle around the Black estate by herself.
When Harry hung up his cloak he noticed a corner of the parchment sticking out of the pocket. He pulled it out and unfolded it on his way to the library/gallery where Daphne was spending the greater part of her days.
"Ever hear of Jacques Lafleur?" Harry asked as he walked in on Daphne.
Daphne held out her hand for the advert parchment, took it, and read it, then handed it back.
"Someone you want to stay away from," Daphne said, "Although I think you would have the good sense not to be taken in. He lectures to wizarding types, talks about some philosophy he studied, then takes up a collection. I've had a couple of patients who got involved and came out badly."
"Really?" Harry asked. "Got involved how?"
"Once a person is more than a casual attendee, the organization starts to demand more and more of their time, then any money or possessions they have, then there is a hierarchy below the leader and the ones near the top pick out sexual partners and dictate who among the others can or can't have a partner. The lower level end up being personal servants or out on the street with collection cans or handing out leaflets."
"Sounds like a cult," Harry said.
"Oddly enough, that's what I thought I'd just been describing," Daphne observed.
"What is the draw?" Harry asked.
"The leader has done all the work for the rest of the world so no one has to do it for themselves," Daphne said. "All that is required to understand everything is to listen to the leader's message and put the rest aside—friends, family, any commitment that gets in the way of total focus on the leader and the organization. People who want out find their way to the mental maladies staff at St. Mungo's, if they're lucky."
"Someone was handing these out on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," Harry said. "I wonder if that is legal, considering everything."
"Almost certainly," Daphne said. "The people who organize these are usually very careful to stay on the right side of the law. They have solicitors who can make life difficult for anyone who opposes their client. The followers almost never turn on the leader while they are inside. My patients knew they had been misled and mistreated, but they didn't want to involve the authorities. Oddly enough, they could react negatively to the mistreatment, but to them the leader was genuinely enlightened and meant well, while the people below him abused their positions."
Harry thought over Daphne's cautionary tale.
"These might not have anything to do with each other, or anything at all," said Harry, "But this is a curious string of events, I'd say. Iolanthe has a casual acquaintance who gets told she's to stay clear of Potters. Iolanthe suspects the acquaintance would like to say more but is afraid. Iolanthe comes home for break and reports to me. Two days before Christmas, I sit in a booth at the Leaky Cauldron and see Jacques Lafleur in a bit of carving. Today someone hands me a leaflet at the train station, where I'd gone with a lot of other parents to see the young scholars off to Hogwarts. The Head Unspeakable was with me in the booth today and informed me there is a magical guru named Jacques Lafleur. Hannah said a witch had conjured a flame in front of Jacques' carving and she'd had to ask her to put it out. Jacques Lafleur has come to the attention of the Chief of Service for Mental Maladies at St. Mungo's for abusing some of his followers, or letting it go on. Did I leave anything out?"
"How would I know, Harry?" Daphne asked. "This is the first time we've touched on any of this."
"True," said Harry. He stared straight ahead, running over the points once more.
"Are you going to solve it tonight?" Daphne asked.
"Doubt it," Harry said.
"I doubt it as well," Daphne said. "Opening us up to the possibility of having something to eat before it gets too late and we chuck it and turn in."