Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Under Her Protection
"How can I ever pay you back?" Lissette asked.
Daphne handed her the package from the apothecary's with a, "Go on," and closed the bathroom door.
Lissette found Daphne in her study, Kingsley Davis on one arm and Fabio Evans lying back in a little springy baby lounger.
"Sleep well?" Daphne asked.
"I guess that settles that," Lissette said.
"That's pretty definitive," Daphne agreed. She looked into Lissette's eyes. "Do we need to get you on something so you don't have another scare?"
"You mean, birth control?" Lissette asked.
"Yes," Daphne said, "You're a healthy young woman, you must have feelings, it's too late to think about it once your drive kicks in, so if you haven't done something beforehand, you'll be right where you were yesterday evening. That is not a good use of your time."
"Lady Daphne, I…"
"Just Daphne, or if you must, Healer Daphne, please," Daphne advised her. "We're just a couple of witches talking woman-talk. You started to say?"
"Daphne, I have never had any of those feelings," Lissette said. "Not for anyone, witch, wizard, muggle. I don't understand them at all. I literally do not know what people are talking about when they speak of it. The only reason I let them do those things to me was I didn't want to be slapped around anymore."
A little shudder ran through Lissette.
"Fine. We'll drop it," Daphne said. "If that changes, I want your word you'll come and see me right away. You have some options. Now, tell me about your situation. Do you think the Lafleur crowd will be looking for you?"
"I don't know," Lissette said. "Iolanthe was pretty definite with my stepfather. I think he really should stay away from me. And her. I know I would."
"Me too," Daphne said. "What about your mother? Do you think she wants you back? Will she try to contact you and convince you to come home?"
"She might," Lissette said. "I don't know why. Neither one of them seems to like me very much. He was always rough with me, and she would stand there and not say anything. Afterwards she'd tell me not to provoke him."
Lissette wiped a tear.
"That couldn't have been pleasant," Daphne said. "We don't work that way around here, rest assured. Let's move on. Iolanthe said you wanted to do your seventh year. What kind of qualifications are you interested in?"
"I couldn't really think that through," Lissette said. "Things got more and more chaotic, and when they started to get involved with Jacques Lafleur, I was expected to go to all the lectures, and the retreats, and the people close to Lafleur started passing me around. It was hard to think about lessons with all of that going on. My marks weren't very good this year."
"Well, you've got all summer to think," Daphne said. "We'll have something decided by September."
Something in Daphne's tone told Lissette she was done.
"Daphne?"
"Uh-huh?" Daphne said, shifting Kingsley Davis to his baby lounger.
"What is my, I guess you'd call it status, in the family?"
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.
"Yesterday, Iolanthe declared me to be under her protection. I think that is some kind of legal term. So, what I was wondering was, am I her slave?" asked Lissette with complete sincerity.
Daphne felt an immediate need to laugh, somehow caught herself, and instead smiled at Lissette.
"It is some kind of legal term, but we aren't sure just what it means," Daphne said. "Harry is getting some information. There are lawyers at the ministry who are experts. We'll find out. I'm pretty sure it won't be too onerous. Besides, Iolanthe is fourteen. I doubt if she has legal standing to undertake the protection of another, in that sense, no matter how skilled she is. You never know, though, with magical law and precedent. We'll just wait and see. Until you're advised otherwise by competent legal authority, don't worry about being anyone's slave."
"Thank-you," Lissette said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Not right now," Daphne said. "If you want some air, the garden is inside the wards. Otherwise, I recommend you stay inside the house, until we figure out whether you're in danger or not."
Lissette was sitting in the garden, in the midst of James' master plan, when Iolanthe came home. After getting Lissette's assurances that the skirt and blouse she'd been wearing on Monday fit perfectly, Iolanthe had taken them to Madame Malkin's to see about ordering some more in different materials.
Like most witches, Lissette never objected to anything in green or purple, so Iolanthe ordered a blouse and a skirt in each, giving Lissette several options for mixing and matching.
"Two days," Iolanthe said. "That's Wednesday. Then all we need to do is find you some jeans. Where's your wand?"
"I…I'm not sure," Lissette said, making it sound like an admission of guilt. "I reached for it when I was moving around, Friday night, and it wasn't there. I was sure I left the house with it, but I was in a fight, and kind of panicky, so it still could be there."
"No matter," Iolanthe said. "Let me talk to Father, we'll come up with something."
Iolanthe did talk to Harry when he got home, about the wand, and several other things. Lissette needed a wand, for self-defense, but also for all the other wand-waving witches and wizards did. Harry didn't see any need to dance around it. Iolanthe, wittingly or not, had brought Lissette Lestrange in to some kind of position in the Potter family. What that might be was under study, but no purpose would be served by having a wandless witch under foot.
Daphne and James took baby duty while Harry, Iolanthe and Lissette went wand shopping at Ollivander's.
"Where did your wand come from?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure, Lord Harry," Lissette said. "When I was getting ready for school, as a first-year, my mother handed me a wand and told me to practice wingardium leviosa. It was the only spell she taught me that year. Once I got my Standard Book of Spells, I started to get better. You must all think that quite primitive."
"We'll get her some remedial classes in Potter, Father," Iolanthe said, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular.
"Oh, I've said something awful!" Lissette moaned. "I beg your pardon, Lord Harry. I beg your pardon, Miss Iolanthe."
Harry wanted desperately to laugh and get on with wand shopping. Lissette needed reassurance, though. Iolanthe's drollery had cut the shaky ground out from under the traumatized young witch.
"Not at all, not at all, I promise," Harry said. "Iolanthe's humor can run a little dry. You don't know, because you never had a reason to, but I was raised by muggles and came to Hogwarts with no knowledge of magic except the accidental kid magic things I'd done, which I never understood because there wasn't anyone around to explain it to me. However unschooled you were at eleven, I was miles behind you."
"Oh," Lissette said, "You practiced."
"Uh-huh," Harry confirmed, "Lots and lots of practice. And here we are. Let's see what our friend Ollivander's got for us."
"Mr. Potter!" Ollivander greeted them, "And Miss Iolanthe, and who is our friend?"
"Someone who needs a wand, Mr. Ollivander," Harry said, taking Ollivander by the arm and steering him back into his shelves-upon-shelves of wands ready for sale.
Iolanthe kept Lissette occupied near the front desk. The muttering coming from the back sounded like Harry making a diplomatic pitch for confidentiality, in recognition of their companion's stressful situation.
"Well, Miss Lissette," Ollivander said, putting ten or twelve wand boxes down on his desk. "We have here some examples of different woods and cores, a variety of lengths and suppleness. We'll narrow down the candidates until we settle on one or two promising combinations, then explore the fine differences within that range. So, let me open a few boxes…and, if you would, just pass your hand over these. Does anything give you a warm, confident feeling? All about the same? Let's try a few more…"
Harry thought back to when he was trying wands the first time. He'd ended up with the holly wand/phoenix tail feather core that had saved his life more times than he could remember. Ollivander's sales pitch hadn't seemed so refined and professional then, at least in Harry's memory.
Something caught Lissette's attention, and she held her hand still over one of the open boxes. Her eyes closed and she inhaled, long and deep through her nose, as if she were smelling the chill morning air in a cedar grove when the early sun warmed the trees, and freed the scents.
"This one…" she said, "May I?"
"Yes, please do," Ollivander said. "How does it feel in your hand? Do you like the balance? The texture of the handle section should be pleasing to your touch, not too rough or smooth."
Ollivander laid a small cube of crystal on the desk in front of Lissette.
"Can you move it? Try to move it from its position to the blotter. Good. Bring it back? Good. See if it will lock my door for you. The command is just 'Lock.' Try it."
Lissette reached for the door handle and gave it a try. The door was locked.
"Can you unlock it? I might lose a customer," Ollivander said.
Lissette unlocked the door using the wand.
Ollivander stood behind his desk appraising Lissette.
"Does it feel like your wand?"
"It does."
"How do you know?" Ollivander asked.
"It feels like it belongs in my hand," Lissette said, not sure exactly what she meant by that. She hoped Ollivander wouldn't be asking for further explanations.
"The wood is osage orange, from America," Ollivander said. "A very interesting wood. It was, at one time, planted widely for hedgerows. Once cured, it is almost impossible to work, it becomes so hard. That wand won't give you a whippy feel. It can't. The core is unicorn hair. Those do not like to be turned to dark magic. The core is safe inside the wand, thus it is confident it has the freedom to choose its own affinities. Do you understand the direction this wand will want to take when you bring it into your life? Defend the good, and your wand will be very powerful. Pursue vice or use it in the mistreatment of others, and you may find yourself defenseless. You aren't buying a wand so much as accepting a way of life. It is something like taking a vow."
"Have you chosen me?" Lissette asked, nearly whispering as she held the wand in front of her.
"What's it saying?" Iolanthe asked.
"It sounds like 'Yes' to me," Lissette answered.
"Done," Harry said. "Congratulations. And, Mr. Ollivander, if you can work up a bill, I'll take it tonight or you can send it by the house."
"I'll send it along, Mr. Potter, there's no rush," Ollivander said. While he was talking he was assembling a little group of wand care items—a soft cloth, a small dropper vial of lemon oil, a parchment leaflet with the simple banner saying 'Caring for Your New Wand.' When he had everything together he put the assortment in a little drawstring bag and pulled on the cords, then handed the bag to Lissette.
"Everything you need for wand care is in there, except the respect that lives between you and your wand. I can't give you that, but you can cultivate it and keep it healthy. May I?" said Ollivander as he held out his hand for the wand.
Mr. Ollivander took a soft cloth from beneath the counter, along with a small jar of the type ointments come in. He touched the cloth to whatever was in the jar and rubbed it over the wand, taking his time and covering the entire surface.
"Beeswax," Ollivander said. "Take out your cloth at home and give the wand a good polishing. The beeswax seals the pores and any surface crackling. After a month, and several applications of the cloth, you can add a drop or two, but no more, of the lemon oil. Bring it back anytime and I'll look it over. I reserve the right on those occasions to comment on the owner's wand care practices. I won't need to with you, though, will I?"
"No, Mr. Ollivander," said Lissette.
"How do you carry your wand on your person?" Ollivander asked.
"In my sleeve," said Lissette.
Ollivander reached under his counter and placed a kind of gauntlet with two leather rings on the counter.
"The rings have a little charm. If the sleeve is a little too loose to keep the wand secure, wear this under the shirt or blouse and the wand will be there when you need it," Ollivander said. "With the compliments of the firm. Other than that, all you need do is practice, practice, practice. Good luck with your new wand."
"Yes, sir, thank-you, sir," said Lissette.
Harry didn't offer to take the girls to the Leaky Cauldron or any of the other businesses along Diagon Alley, because he didn't want to be seen by more people than necessary. They still had to gauge the reaction of the Lafleur organization to the loss, or what they would call apostasy, of a former adherent. From what he had heard of Iolanthe's actions at the museum, he thought Lissette would be safe from her mother and stepfather. In any event she would be seventeen in less than a month and attain her majority. Then she could do whatever adult things she wished, subject to the restrictions of the magical criminal code.
When Lissette's birthday came around, Rose and Iolanthe organized a small birthday party for her at The Mill. The few elders in attendance stayed under the arbor, pestering fruit plate after fruit plate and keeping an eye on the approaches to the site. They really didn't think the students needed chaperoning, and they didn't think Lissette's relatives or the Jacques Lafleur crowd would mount a raid, but one never knew.
The students gave Lissette practical little gifts, since she had left everything behind when she fled her deteriorating home life. Scorpius gave her a little pen knife for cutting quills that Astoria had used. Lissette got a bit weepy when she read the note he tucked in the box with the knife.
"Lissette—"
The note said,
"My late mother used this at her desk in our home. It has a self-sharpening charm, so it is always ready to trim a quill. Use it throughout a long life filled with good health, and good times."
Rose hadn't had the time to knit anything for Lissette. Instead, she brought some of Molly's chocolate syrup for the Greengrass elves' profiterole, which was the sweet of the day, rather than a cake. It wasn't a wild party, by any means. The longest-lasting activity was standing on the edge of the mill pond feeding dried crickets to the trout and telling stories about the great Slytherin witch Astoria Greengrass Malfoy.
The activity wound down and those who had to leave, left. Iolanthe surveyed the scene. The elves had finished the cleanup, The Mill was secure, the fairies had made everyone's acquaintance and gone back to their fairy business. Harry, Iolanthe and Lissette were the only ones left. Iolanthe gathered up her gifts and stood waiting for Iolanthe to indicate what was next.
"How do you want to go back?" Harry asked. "I'm partial to walking back to the manor, since we've got this wonderful June evening, giving it a quick check, then taking the floo straight back to #12. As always, you may feel differently."
"I'm with you, Father," Iolanthe said.
Lissette just nodded at Iolanthe, a practice that showed signs of becoming a habit.
The group got to the house and took a look around the perimeter. Lissette got her first look down the valley to the Dart from the Potter Manor patio and was forced to stop dead still and look at the vista.
"Gosh," she managed to say.
Two deer, one with antlers, one without, were standing in some alfalfa, perhaps a quarter-mile downslope. The deer stood still, looking up at the new Potter Manor and the people standing about.
"Where did you live, when you weren't at Hogwarts, Lissette?" Harry asked.
"Not far from Alnmouth, in the north," Lissette said, adding, "It's a nice little river, the Aln."
"I agree, although I've not seen a lot of it," Harry said. "You like our view of the Dart, I see."
"And your gardens," Lissette said. "You must have some busy elves."
"Oh, yes," Iolanthe said, "Along with some fanatical humans."
"This way," Harry said, "Or we'll never get home."
He touched his wand to the door that led inside from the patio, and the door rewarded him with a click and a swing inward. Sconces lit as the little party walked through the rooms to the salon, winking out as they passed.
"This is very unusual art, for a wizard's house," Lissette remarked. "Oh, I'm sorry, please don't take offense. It's wonderful. I just haven't seen anything like it before."
"No offense taken, I assure you," Harry said. "Iolanthe's great-uncle is a painter, and considered highly-collectible. He also teaches, in America. Daphne and Kendra picked this all out before the house was complete, then it was shipped here and Uncle Lawrence made the trip to hang all the pieces. It was a huge deal for the Potters and Davis's both."
"And here's the salon, and our ride home," Iolanthe said. "Got everything? We'll come back but I don't know when."
Lissette nodded and patted herself down.
"I think so," she said.
"Grimmauld Place," said Harry as he dropped his floo powder.
Greetings and congratulations took a few minutes, but very few. The young people were ready to retire, after the fresh air and party activities. Daphne waited until everyone had gone up to bed, then invited Harry to come to the study for tea.
"This came," Daphne said. "Messenger. I assured him he was welcome to stay and keep it in his custody but he said it wasn't that kind of communication."
Harry looked at the large brown envelope. He didn't see anything unusual. He felt the envelope all over, trying to sense whether it had anything inside that ought not to be opened outside of controlled conditions. It felt like a fairly thick bunch of papers made up the entire contents. Harry laid the envelope on the hearth and touched the flap with his wand tip, casting a silent opening charm. The flap opened, but nothing else happened. Harry assessed it was safe to remove the papers.
"Oh," Harry said, then stopped.
"Ahem?" Daphne added.
"Oh, sorry, it's the legal background on Iolanthe's escapade. Cover memo. Which says,"
Harry read while Daphne racked her brain for a speed-reading hex she could cast. There had to be at least one.
"Short version," Harry said, handing the stack of paper to Daphne, "Iolanthe derives the right to extend the protection of her household to anyone she chooses by virtue of her noble birth, regardless of her own age at the time. She commits to raising her own troops to defend her castle without bothering the Crown. That is her obligation to her protectees. Their obligation, as long as they freely accept the protection, is to make themselves useful members of Iolanthe's household, be loyal, and lead pious lives so their prayers for their benefactor will find favor in Heaven."
"Oh," Daphne said. "That is lovely. And quaint. To think I have been a witch since the day I was born and I knew nothing of this. That Iolanthe. She must have gotten it from you, since I was completely unaware."
"Now," Harry said, "Iolanthe. She took the time to pull me aside and tell me today, just for clarity's sake, that she does not think I am a monster. She suspects you do not think so, either, but were exercising a little hyperbole. I told her I was not so sure about that, but that one way or the other, we were still in love and would be staying together."
"You did well, Potter. Your rhetorical skills have not deteriorated," Daphne said. "Was our biggest little reassured by your jibber-jabber?"
"She is very smart, and I doubt if jibber-jabber is of any use these days. Still, she remains calm, like the eye of the hurricane, in the midst of all the…" which Harry finished with a wave of his hand indicating the edifice and its contents that surrounded them.
"I have been thinking over what you said," Harry went on. "You may be closer to right about me than I'd like me to be. I promise to do some reflection."
"Do you think you're a monster," Daphne asked, "Because I assure you I don't. I should have made it clear at the earliest opportunity. I apologize for not doing so. It is possible, on occasion, for me to react negatively when anything looks like it could endanger the children. I know you would never do so intentionally, but you seemed happy to let Iolanthe take the lead on going to meet Lissette, and we didn't have any way of knowing what that entailed. I have some experience with Potter adventures, you may recall."
"Don't apologize," Harry said. "Certain characteristics of a monster may manifest in me, from time to time. I have inadequate brakes on my enthusiasms, relying on others for that when it is my responsibility. Threats to you and the family generate lethal thoughts in me. I probably have all the mental maladies deriving from withholding love and attention from youngsters ages two to eleven. I admit, I expect you were not too far off base. I hope it isn't too late for Iolanthe."
"Me too," Daphne said. "She looks like she's okay. Did anyone bother to tell you, in the midst of all the confusion, what she did to Lissette's stepfather?"
Harry shook his head No.
"He found us in the café and demanded Lissette leave us and come with him, and Iolanthe ordered him to depart, and he reached for his wand. Before he even got it out, she'd transformed her scalp into a mass of adders. It had the effect of a petrificus totalis, and he went down. Then she stood over him and advised him to keep clear of Lissette because she was under Iolanthe's protection, and then something about what he was hearing would be the sound of his new home if he came around again."
"Oh," Harry said, "Where is the new home?"
"I asked her that, and all she'd say was 'Hell.'
Harry pondered what Daphne had told him.
"So she can transform into a Medusa, more or less?"
"Yes, Harry Potter, your daughter can do that at will," Daphne said, adding, "In the British Museum, of course."
Harry thought a little more.
"And she can bring up the sounds of the souls in Perdition and make a paralyzed man listen to them?"
"That's what she said," confirmed Daphne, "And I have no reason to disbelieve her, having seen that man's face as she stood over him advising him to stay away."
"That's not REALLY a monster, though, is it?" Harry argued. "She uses her power for good, doesn't she?"
"For now, at least, it looks like it," Daphne agreed.
"The hat put her in Slytherin," Harry said as he pinched his lower lip and let his eyes lose focus, "So it had to have had its reasons. Turning our young magical creature specialist into a monster would not have been among them, not for the sorting hat I know."
"Your logic is as twisted as ever, Potter," Daphne said. "Circular. Self-justifying. Rationalizations."
"Good points, all," Harry said. "Food for thought. I don't mind if you called me a monster, really. Even if it was in front of Iolanthe. It might help her recognize a boundary when she's approaching, before she crosses it. Should I talk to her about it?"
That was something Daphne hadn't considered. It really was a surprisingly good idea, and it startled her to think she had not come up with it first. Harry had a shockingly good handle on certain of the spots that could generate a deadly force response in him, and a classic childhood experience at the root of his abnormal psychology. Simply put, Harry had his family ripped away from him when he was a toddler, learned on his own to keep a few close friends as a surrogate family, then discovered Daphne and actually had the good fortune to raise a family of their own. The little boy down inside still hungered for the family he'd lost, and could be expected to go overboard defending the one he had made with his wife.
"It bears watching," Daphne thought to herself. "Just be sure you're there when he needs a second opinion."
"Harry, you know, that might be a very good idea," Daphne said. "She seems to have enormous power and a fertile imagination. Just one suggestion—avoid making it sound like 'Do as I say, not as I do.'"
"When have I ever…Want to check babies?" Harry started to go down a dangerous grade, before braking and turning back at the last possible moment.
"Harry Potter," Daphne said, standing up and pulling Harry to her. "Don't you beat all?"
The following day, Harry used one of a variety of morning routines he had developed to avoid setting a pattern, rising and showering, then going straight to his office near the ministry to read the overnight reports plus whatever the analysts had produced for senior officials' edification. He checked his calendar and saw he was scheduled for a lunch at the ministry, then a couple of meetings back in his own building. Then he had a clear calendar until 'Eve: Dinner-Ron/Her'
Was that tonight? Drat! Normally Harry enjoyed having a meal with the Granger-Weasleys, but for some reason the combination of the mysterious gossip campaign, the unexpected emergence of Jacques Lafleur, and the new addition at home weighed on his mind. Well, maybe a night with Ron and Hermione was what he needed to get his mind out of its self-centered rut.
Reading done, Harry took the floo system back to #12 Grimmauld Place for breakfast. It was dry, mild and June, so Harry wasn't surprised to find the townhouse garden occupied by much of the Potter household. Tracey and Zelda were spending most of their time running around meeting with clients or back at the Black estate putting the final touches on the Black Picnic plans. Ginny and Millicent were absent, and Harry thought he remembered some talk about a seminar at Beauxbatons for faculty of the schools of witchcraft and wizardry. Harry had to admit, there was something very attractive right then about taking a few days' sojourn in France.
Harry saw a big platter of scrambled eggs, toasted muffins and sliced tomatoes in the center of the table. He found an empty chair and sat down.
"James, did you grow these?" asked Harry, spearing a tomato slice.
"Mmm-mmm," said James, working a mouthful of breakfast around in his mouth. "Grandfather."
"It seems early," Harry said. "Isn't it?"
"He starts them in the sunny room and puts them outside at sixty days. If it is too cold at night he has some cones to put over them," James explained.
"Magical?" Harry asked.
"The tomatoes?" James asked.
Harry looked at the chunk of tomato on his fork.
"Is there such a thing?"
James looked at his father.
"I don't think so," he said.
Harry put the tomato in his mouth.
"The cones have a warming charm. He's been doing it for years," Daphne said. "It keeps the tomato plants from getting frosted overnight."
James looked at Daphne.
"James is thinking something disparaging, Mother," Iolanthe announced. "I, personally, think it is spoilsport."
Harry looked at James, whose face did, actually, look like it wanted to say Spoilsport.
"Coffee?" Daphne asked, holding up the carafe.
"What is on for today?" Harry asked.
"Granger-Weasleys this evening," said Daphne.
"Yeah, I saw that on the calendar at the office," Harry said. "What time are we due over there?"
"We aren't, actually," Daphne said.
"They're coming here? Really?" Harry said. "Well, fine. I had us going over there, for some reason."
Another thought occurred to Harry.
"What are we having?"
"Lots of vegetables," James said, spooning scrambled eggs onto a toasted muffin, topping the eggs with tomato, and putting the top slice of muffin on everything else. James picked up his egg and tomato sandwich on muffin and kept the architecturally-challenged concoction together with a deft arrangement of fingers and thumbs. Harry looked on with genuine admiration.
"Mm-hm," he said in approval, nodding at James.
"James Greengrass," Iolanthe asked, as innocently as could be, "Can you fly and eat that at the same time?"
"Miss Iolanthe, don't you dare," Daphne said, her voice low and growling.
"I have the morning free," Harry announced, hoping the prospect of a full weekday morning of Dad availability would stimulate imaginations so he would not have to look at the spectacle of James levitating and eating a crumbling egg-and-tomato sandwich. A look at James said Harry was not a sufficient diversion.
"Where are the picnic plans? It's not far off. Maybe we should take a look at the Black place. What do you think?" Harry looked at Daphne, who looked back but really wanted to stare down Iolanthe to let off the pressure of her own displeasure.
"The food is all set, the same as last year. The fishing has been good, and Tracey was told to tell us not to worry. James and Teddy have the exterior in a breathtakingly beautiful condition, according to the gentleman eating the sandwich. The interior has been scrubbed and polished. A marquee has been arranged, should the portents favor rain, although Lady Kendra's runes are convinced we have three days of dry weather bracketing Black Picnic," Daphne reported.
"Three June days in Cornwall with no rain?" Harry said. "My compliments to the rune-caster."
"Father," said Iolanthe, dropping out of her James-tormenting tone, "Can I show Lissette your dojo?"
"Sure," Harry said. "Do you want to duel? Fight the mannequins? Do pushups?"
"All of it, eventually," Iolanthe said. "Lissette has a new wand to get used to."
Daphne looked at Harry, her face a neutral mask. Harry looked down at his plate. He was nearly finished anyway, and lunch at the ministry would mean serious overeating. He took a last swallow of coffee.
"Let's go," he said. "James?"
"No," James said, getting up and pulling a weed from a bed.
"Please?" Harry asked.
"Okay," said James, leading the way back into the house.
"Kreacher!" Harry called as they walked down the hall.
"Kreacher is here, Master," said the elf as he materialized in front of the group.
"I think Mistress Daphne would like the table cleared, then…" Harry said, the last to an empty space where Kreacher had been a fraction of a second before.
"Someday I'll learn," Harry observed.
"So here is our home gym," Harry said. "We take our shoes off out here. Then we bow when we enter. That is the shrine over there. Then we decide what we're going to do. We need one mannequin for some dueling," Harry announced to whatever was behind the gym's intelligence.
Harry's eyes changed. He shifted his weight out over the balls of his feet, and he drew his wand.
"Cast to stun," he said, leaving his class unsure who he was talking to. A mannequin materialized and bowed toward Harry, who bowed back. The attack was wickedly fast and the red bolt was on its way so quickly it did not look like Harry would be able to block or dodge. He did both, it turned out, developing his own attack from the finish of his blocking move. The block and counter-attack would have put away the average witch or wizard without a proper fight developing at all, but the mannequins were adept at matching or exceeding human reflexes, so the exchange went on for a while, enough to get Harry a shiny face. The match ended when both fighters got through the other's defense at the same time, and both were sent flying backward, before getting up and bowing once more.
"James?"
James bowed to Harry, who returned his bow, then to the mannequin, who did the same. He took the first dueling position and the mannequin cast, James blocked, then cast, then block-cast-block-cast, until he blocked all but one bit of a mannequin cast, which hit his left arm, numbing it. James' balance was off after that, and he got in a few more good shots at the mannequin but was clearly done. Harry called the match, congratulated James, and asked for Iolanthe to step up.
The ritual continued. Iolanthe was a good duelist, a little ahead of James right then, which was understandable given the age difference. She got better as she warmed up and Harry had to declare her match a draw, so Lissette could get some time in.
"The only thing different from what you did at Hogwarts is the mannequins don't get tired," Harry told her. "This one will cast to stun. You're to block and send something back. Stunning spells, or expeliarmus, if you want the practice.
Lissette and the mannequin bowed and the match commenced. Lissette had fairly good form. In fact, Harry thought he could see Millicent Bulstrode coaching at work in her movements. Lissette was well-drilled, but her stamina was that of a student who would have moved for twenty or thirty minutes, maximum, in the course of a lesson. Ten minutes with the dueling mannequin turned her movements wooden, and fifteen left her defenseless. That would improve with regular practice. Lissette didn't have a lot of other things competing for her time or attention, so Harry made a mental note to speak to Iolanthe in private and encourage her to bring Lissette up to duel regularly, or every day they were at #12 if Lissette would go along with it.
Harry left for lunch and his afternoon meetings. He read and listened carefully for any mention of Lissette, her family or the Lafleur movement, but found only silence on those subjects. He asked for ten minutes of Kingsley's time to brief him on Monday's events and a little of the legal ramifications of Iolanthe's escapade, and an offer of resignation if Kingsley thought the Potters had embarrassed his administration.
"Your young witch invoked recognized law and saved a damsel? And you think you ought to resign?" Kingsley asked.
"Not just any witch," Harry answered. "Her Slytherin housemate. Walburga Black's portrait assures me that Iolanthe has saved wizarding royalty."
"I never thought the day would come," said Kingsley, "when I would agree with Walburga Black. No, Harry, I won't accept your offer of resignation."
Dinner with the Granger-Weasleys was highly informal. Tracey and Zelda made it back from wherever they'd been negotiating or planning or ordering food and beverages. Zelda's school record for consecutive saves by a keeper had established her as a quidditch prodigy. She was disappointed to find Ginny wouldn't be at dinner, but she settled for quidditch talk with Harry and Ron, who hadn't been bad at quidditch, for school boys.
Iolanthe had introduced Rose and Lissette at The Mill. Rose had had even less contact with Lissette at school than Iolanthe had. They hadn't really touched on the reasons Lissette was with the Potters, other than she'd been spending a few days with her housemate. Iolanthe pulled Rose and Lissette into the unoccupied garden to address Lissette's continued presence. Iolanthe stopped the backstory at "Things weren't going well at home, so…"
Lissette wouldn't look at either one of them.
"Go ahead and tell her," she said to Iolanthe. "I know you two don't have secrets."
Iolanthe looked at Lissette. Lissette nodded for her to keep going.
"Lissette's family got involved with the Jacques Lafleur crowd. Some of the men in the Lafleur organization took advantage of her," Iolanthe said.
"And one of the women," Lissette said. Something about saying it out loud liberated Lissette from the shame she had felt, that somehow she had allowed what happened. She stood up straight and looked Rose in the eye.
"Yes, they did," she concluded.
"Oh, Lissette," Rose said, reaching out. Lissette wasn't used to hugs, that was apparent. She held herself stiffly. She didn't resist, but she didn't hug back. Rose thought it was a start.
"What now?" Rose asked, sticking her nose into where it really didn't belong.
Lissette was silent, but she looked at Iolanthe as if expecting her to carry on the briefing.
"Well, we're working on that," Iolanthe said. "A lot will depend on whether it looks like it would be safe for Lissette at Hogwarts in the fall."
"With this bunch behind you?" Rose asked, tilting her head toward the house. Iolanthe started and Rose was dragged along. It took awhile for them to return to coherence. Lissette looked like she was the one who had missed the punchline of a joke.
"Harry Potter? Hermione Granger? Millicent Bulstrode? Neville Longbottom? You have heard of them?" Rose asked.
Lissette blushed. "Yes," was all she said.
"That's okay, it takes some getting used to, I'll admit," Rose said, "And we grew up in it."
"You're doing fine, Lissette," Iolanthe assured her. "It's a learning curve. How's the wand?"
"Oh, wonderful," said Lissette. "It feels like it really wants to be with me. Is that possible?"
"It is if you feel that way about it," Rose assured her. "If you want to get your ear bent for a couple of hours, ask Ronald Weasley a wand question. Just be certain you don't have anything else you need to do right away. It will all be good information, from an emerging authority, but it's kind of like getting swept away by a current. Prepare to relax, keep your lungs filled, and try to float until you are washed up someplace."
"What?" said a voice from the doorway. Ron stood on the step holding a glass of mineral water with two lemon wedges.
"Wands," Rose said. "Lissette was telling us about her new wand, and I mentioned you have some interests in that field."
"To some extent, yes," Ron said. "Right now, though, I think we're expected to come in and start dinner."
No one planned it, but the overflow that went back to the garden comprised Iolanthe, Rose, Zelda and Lissette.
"Perfect!" Iolanthe observed, looking around and assessing her companions. She looked at Rose.
"Ready for the Black Picnic?" she asked. Rose understood that to be code for, "Did you finish his slippers?"
"Yes," Rose said, smiling, "And the remaining hours are getting longer and longer."
"Did Tracey say anything about tomorrow, Zelda? I think Mother had in mind a trip to see Great-grandmother. You're welcome to come, too, Rose, if she decides to go."
"Mum didn't say," Zelda replied. "I'm in though."
"What about soot?" Rose asked.
"She'll draw on her Healer training and mask the darlings," Iolanthe said. "We'll take you, of course, Lissette."
It was a statement, to which Lissette nodded her agreement.
Daphne assigned Harry the task of engaging Iolanthe in a discussion of her obligations as Lissette's protector. They'd had one short, confidential conversation, and both knew they needed more. Iolanthe, of course, had not been thinking of coming home with a protectee when she had gone to the museum with her mother on Monday. Events just got a little out of control, and that wasn't unknown around the Potters. They'd cope. Meanwhile, Lissette was obliged to make herself useful in her protector's household. This presented a problem as Iolanthe's household was by definition a dependency of the greater Potter-Black establishment, which was well-supplied with all the conveniences of magical life, first and foremost the presence of Kreacher. There was very little left for a retainer to do.
Iolanthe found herself racking her brain for tasks she could assign to Lissette. A family outing to see Great-grandmother Davis would be perfect. There were all kinds of things Lissette could do to be helpful. She held Fabio Evans' little carrying cradle when the party floo'd to Davis Manor, collected traveling cloaks to hand off to the house elf and refilled tea cups.
Lissette had no experience with a family like the Potters. Physical contact in Lissette's home was something one avoided, since it consisted mainly of painful grabbing of the upper arm or a slap to the face, both usually accompanied by some shouted abuse. The Potters were different. Iolanthe and Daphne pulled their rockers close together, rested babies in the crook of their outside arms and held hands across the middle. Iolanthe was nearly an adult and Daphne still called her "Darling" more often than "Iolanthe." After forty-eight hours with the Potters Lissette resolved to treat every minute as an opportunity to learn, until they informed her it was time she moved along.
It was a beautiful June day, so it was decided that Great-grandmother Davis could benefit from some of the fresh air and sunshine. Kendra stood on one side of her mother, encouraging Lissette with a head motion to come on over.
"Mother just needs one of us on each side to pace her, Lissette. You'll take that side, I'll take this…and up!"
The old lady stood up, quickly. In fact, it took longer for her to straighten up to her full height than it took her to get to her feet. It was a nice, long walk to the patio, at Great-grandmother Davis speed, plenty of time for a relaxing chat with Lissette.
"You're a Slytherin, dear?" Madame Davis asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Lissette replied.
"Wonderful, you'll go far, then. I had my doubts about that Potter Iolanthe's mother married when there weren't any suitable Slytherin men left, but he seems to have found steady work, at least, although it must be low on the ladder because you never can get him to say what he actually does. He doesn't drink up his pay, either, if you can believe Daphne, so at least that is a plus. Have you been at #12 Grimmauld Place, then?"
"Yes ma'am," said Lissette.
"That used to be the most prestigious address in magical London. I wish you could have seen it in its heyday. I went to so many parties there when I was a child, and a young witch. Walburga was in Slytherin with me, if you didn't know. Walburga Black was a genius at entertaining, and decorating, too. Have you been in the mistress' study?"
"Yes ma'am," Lissette repeated.
Iolanthe and Rose were using wingardium leviosa, together, to move Madame Davis' wing chair outside. They both knew they shouldn't, but they looked across the chair to share the moment and had to put the chair down until their self-control returned.
Madame Davis free-associated the full length of her progress to the patio, trailing her chair, two chair-bearers, then Tracey and Daphne carrying the newest great-grandsons. Kendra kept Zelda close to the front with her, because she and Madame Davis had some special rapport that allowed Zelda to respond appropriately to Madame's most tangential questions and comments.
Lissette focused on her job of being a sort of outrider opposite Kendra, a bit of guidance ready to lend a steadying forearm if Madame got a little disoriented.
Kendra and Daphne got everyone in place around Madame Davis on the patio. Daphne and Tracey removed the swaddling the young lads had worn for soot protection in the floos. Daphne introduced them as Evans and Davis, since Madame Davis knew both Fabio and Kingsley. Kendra pointed out the confusion the names might cause the old lady, so Daphne stuck to the middle names. Madame Davis took her time holding both, letting her long-disused mothering charms bubble to the surface, letting the babies grip her fingertip, assuring them they had just the strongest hands, and dispensing blessings and forehead kisses without end.
Tracey, the party planner, had drawn on her party planner resources and brought a magical camera. She made some discreet changes to the arrangement of people and chairs and sized up the party, then she checked the camera settings before levitating it in front of the group, letting the camera take a series of photos.
"One of them…" Tracey said as she retrieved the camera.
"…ought to turn out," said Iolanthe, Rose and Zelda together.
Madame Davis called for tea for everyone, and the house elves were ready to oblige. Zelda sat next to Madame the entire time. Madame was partial to Zelda, as everyone knew. It wasn't a problem because the others were partial to her as well.
Zelda liked nothing better, after flying, than to sit next to her great-grandmother, holding her hand, and providing one-half of an unguided conversation.
"And you will be a second-year in September, didn't I hear?" Madame Davis asked.
"Yes, Great-grandmother, I will," Zelda said.
"And you play quidditch?"
"I was the keeper last year," Zelda confirmed.
Madame Davis knew all about Zelda's quidditch exploits, of course. She had read the quidditch column in the Daily Prophet obsessively throughout the season. A copy of Zelda's school record certificate resided in a frame on the table next to Madame's chair, so her guests could enjoy it just as much as she did.
"Can you go a little easier on Slytherin this season?" Madame semi-teased.
"No, Great-grandmother, I have to be merciless, until we put the game away," Zelda told her, obviously relishing the thought.
"Oh, that's fine, then, Zelda," said Madame, "That is your Slytherin heritage coming out."
Zelda smiled. She did descend from a line of Slytherins, on both sides, no arguing that. Zelda held Madame's hand, fascinated by the boniness, and veininess, of the back, and giving it gentle back-and-forth thumb strokes. That hand had held her grandfather. It had probably changed Tracey's nappies. Zelda thought of the years represented by those two hands. She knew Madame was handing something on to her, although she couldn't have said what that was.
Before long, it was time to begin the long procession back to the fireplace so Madame could have her lunch and nap. Evans and Kingsley went back into their wraps, Lissette and Kendra brought Madame Davis to her dining table and emplaced her in the chair with the arms. The good-bye kisses started with Kendra and continued by descending order of seniority. Zelda and Iolanthe hugged and kissed Madame together, by custom whose origin was unclear, getting the usual tears flowing. Rose stepped up, knelt and kissed Madame's hand, before thanking her for the fabulous tea party. Madam touched Rose's cheek with a 'Bless you, dear.'
Lissette didn't know her place in the farewell rituals so she stood aside, intending to follow Iolanthe to the salon, and the fireplace. To her surprise, Madame Davis reached out and flexed her fingers in a 'Come here' gesture. Lissette leaned down, careful not to bump the fragile matriarch. She felt Madame's hand press her back, bringing her closer.
Madame spoke, just for Lissette—
"Don't worry, dear, it's going to be fine. You're under her protection."