Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Forty-One
Proper Planning
With his busy morning behind him, Harry took his time over lunch. Daphne was back from St. Mungo's and Tracey kept Daphne company during twin-feeding. Harry occupied himself with cheese and olives while he waited for the witches. The view from the patio down the slope toward the Dart was almost as good for thinking through a problem as the bench by the door of The Mill.
The situation before Harry was multi-faceted. He did not think Lafleur/Lestrange would be the most difficult part. If the magical guru fled, the ministry would probably leave him alone. If he wanted to stand and fight, Harry would oblige him. The criminal acts of embezzlement and child abuse, along with other crimes and misdemeanors discovered in the course of the investigation, would be processed and work their way through trials and sentencing. Fiona was a special case. She had taken advantage of the underage Lissette, so it was possible she'd done the same to others.
Fiona had also violated her oath by her double-dealing inside a sensitive ministry department. Fiona's sins were compounded, and that needed addressing. Bart Fudge was similar. The Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had broken into a department head's flat to collect intelligence for Jacques Lafleur. That was certain to provoke a response. Harry thought there was a high probability additional Fudge transgressions would surface.
How far did the rot go? Lafleur's methods were effective. There were always seekers. Some percentage were always getting conned by charismatic manipulators. What was the extent of Lafleur's influence in the ministry? Were other institutions penetrated? What was proper law enforcement procedure for a situation such as this? Secret societies, fraternities and cults always presented problems inside official bodies. At the very least, when a member received a promotion or some other benefit, their colleagues could get the impression they'd gotten a hand up from a superior due to their membership. The networks pervaded society. Adherents would bend law, break regulation, and withhold pertinent information to protect the organization, regardless of the damage to the public interest.
Harry thought about other movements that had arisen, generated chaos, not weathered a crisis, and shrunk. Voldemort and the Death Eaters and their auxiliaries the Dark Army were an example. Some of the muggle cults, although not users of magic, followed a similar pattern.
Assessing the degree of penetration would require a lot of analyst time, but a real breakthrough would depend on the interrogators' skill in eliciting cooperation with at least one of the principal delinquents. Harry did not like to be dependent on the results of interviews. That put him one step removed, at minimum, from a primary source. There were multiple flaws in the methodology, from Harry's perspective. If the interviewer took their own notes, they could drop one word and change the meaning of a paragraph. If a stenographer took notes, they could tire or fall behind the speaker. A subject could use a word with multiple meanings, leaving open the way to use of an inaccurate synonym.
Even so, Harry could not go into the archives and become his own forensic accountant. Cleaning up the mess would require cooperation and acceptance of the results of others, even though those might have flaws, gaps or poor links between cause and effect.
Harry's patio reverie was ended by the arrival of Daphne and Tracey. Daphne gave him a kiss to announce their arrival. Tracey kept her announcement to a smile.
"Children?" Daphne asked as she moved her chair into the shade as far as possible.
"We can go inside, if it's too sunny," Harry said. "Iolanthe and Lissette couldn't delay, and have consumed salads in preparation for something. I haven't seen James."
Harry walked to the edge of the patio and touched the tip of his wand to his throat.
One bellowing, "James!" fetched James out of his greenhouse.
"Lunch?" Daphne asked when James reached the patio.
"Sure," James replied, heading inside to wash up.
Harry was grateful his family members managed to eat a leisurely lunch without a single mention of Jacques Lafleur. The magical guru was taking much too much of Harry's mental processing ability.
"How was St. Mungo's?" Harry asked Daphne.
"Magnificent, as always," Daphne said. "I should have to pay them for letting me work there."
Harry looked at James, who rolled his eyes, but subtly. Harry smiled and focused on spearing a chunk of tomato in company with a cube of mozzarella, then swirling both in the oil and vinegar at the bottom of his bowl.
"Are these from James Greengrass Potter, Greengrocer?" Harry asked.
"They are," said James.
"Superb vegetables, sir," Harry said, touching a knuckle to his forelock. James looked at Harry over the rim of his glass of lemonade and let it go.
Iolanthe arrived back at the patio, satchel slung over her shoulder, trailing Lissette. They were dressed for some field work, jeans, practical shoes, shirts with patch pockets and rolled-up sleeves.
"All," Iolanthe greeted the family.
"All fortified, darling?" Daphne asked.
"Yes, Mother," Iolanthe answered. "I volunteered to take Lissette on a short wildlife documentation walk, subject to parental approval, as always."
James, Daphne, Tracey and Harry all paused in their eating and drinking, waiting for someone to call Iolanthe out on her excess of cheek, but no one did. Napkins dabbed at mouths. James rattled ice against the side of his lemonade glass.
"We've been talking about going to your grandparents' for a swim, if you're interested?" Daphne finally offered. "Around three?"
"We'll be back," Iolanthe advised, turning to leave.
"Stay on the manor?" Harry asked.
"If you wish, Father," said Iolanthe, adding, "Of course."
She turned again and struck off across the green, not looking back. Lissette fell in behind.
"Watch out for dragons," James muttered into his salad bowl.
"Ever meet a faun?" Iolanthe asked Lissette as they approached the woods.
"There's the one in Hogsmeade that recites poetry and plays the pan-pipes, but he seems quite domesticated. I've never met one in his native habitat," Lissette explained.
"One can't guarantee a faun siting, but luck may be with us," Iolanthe said as the two followed a path through the wood's edge. Iolanthe stopped a little way in and listened. Very little was stirring, which was normal for midday in July. Iolanthe started down the path again.
"Our faun neighbor, Plum, introduced himself to Father before the house was complete. It wasn't to his taste, and Father had put it where the old house stood. The woodlanders had incorporated that piece into their reveling grounds," Iolanthe explained. "Well, you've seen the view from there. It's no wonder they grew fond of it. Father negotiated with Plum, and got Plum to admit they'd had the revels over this way when the old house was still around. Father set aside the green and these woods for Plum and his woodland companions.
"Father also worked the conversation around to his late father, James, and, believe it or not, James Potter, as a young swell, attended some revels. It's indelicate to ask too much about the elder James, as it seems he was a bit of a rounder as a youth. Still, Harry, James Greengrass, the twins and I myself am here thanks to James' foresight in fathering issue, so we must respect that."
"Have you been to any?" Lissette asked. "Revels?"
"Not officially," Iolanthe answered, leaving it there.
A shortish, manlike being in a swallowtail coat stood blocking the path.
"Not officially what?" he demanded. "You Potters aren't up to anything, are you?"
"Plum!" Iolanthe exclaimed. "Hello! How are you?"
"Oh, shall we do the niceties, then?" Plum asked. "Hello, Iolanthe, how nice to see you again, and this is your friend? Well, isn't that wonderful? Now, what is not, officially?"
"I have not, officially, attended a revel," Iolanthe answered. "My recollection is that we are in complete agreement?"
"Ah, yes," Plum said, "You will be allowed to attend when you're a little older. Until then, you have not yet been to a revel."
"Plum, you are my favorite faun in the whole world," Iolanthe said. "This is my friend Lissette Lestrange, from Hogwarts. She's spending the summer with the family. Lissette, this is Plum."
"Pleased to meet you, Plum," said Lissette. "These are nice woods."
"Thank-you," Plum said. "You're welcome anytime. Can we show you around?"
"We're passing through," Iolanthe answered. "We're going to walk some lanes, see what's stirring. Anything interesting going on here?"
"Of course," said Plum. "The usual. Midsummer was the big party, as you know. Now we plan for December."
"Uh-huh," Iolanthe said, matching her pace to the faun's. "What's to plan?"
"The bonfire, for one thing," Plum replied.
"That's a stretch," Iolanthe observed. "Did James cut your wood last month? I hear he's gotten good at that."
"Miss Iolanthe," Plum pleaded, "A little discretion, please. We're woodlanders, not one of your human engineers."
"My apologies, if I've given offense," Iolanthe said. "The wood's edge is in sight. Thank you for the escort, Plum. Now, should Lissette find herself lost in the woods, could I impose on you and your brethren? An escort back to Potter Manor would be very kind on your part, and most appreciated by His Lordship."
"Miss Iolanthe," Plum answered, extending his hand to grasp Iolanthe's fingertips, over which he bowed, before brushing them with his lips. "Miss Lissette is safe here, I give you my word."
Following a round of 'Good-byes' Iolanthe and Lissette walked out of the woods and entered a shady track, narrow even by country lane standards. The only life that seemed to be up and about was insect, and those buzzes and drones were sounding very perfunctory. Iolanthe scanned the break between grass and the worn track, looking for snakes, without any success.
"What are we looking for?" Lissette asked.
"Anything," Iolanthe answered. "Something to record in my journal. If it holds still it gets turned into a sketch. I like magical creatures. I started documenting the wildlife around here years ago. Now it's habit. Is there anything you feel like you're drawn to? Not necessarily animals. James and plants have a special relationship."
"You'll laugh if I tell you," Lissette said. It sounded like she was stifling a laugh, herself, even as she said it.
"Too weird?" Iolanthe asked. "Fine. Just so you know, we're witches. It's all weird."
Lissette thought that over while they walked.
"Water," she said, eventually. "Any kind of water. I enjoy being in water, and doing things with water. We're mostly water, you know."
"We are," confirmed Iolanthe. "And you…like…"
"I like water the way you like animals," Lissette finished up. "One part oxygen, two parts hydrogen. Muggle chemists and our alchemists agree. A very simple proposition. Earth, Air, Fire, all complicated, Water, simple. Understandable. Very cooperative, if approached properly, with love and respect. It likes to be useful."
"Not sure I understand, but okay," Iolanthe said, continuing to scan ahead for wildlife.
"You know your Mill?" Lissette asked, trying another approach.
"Sure," said Iolanthe.
"The mill stream likes filling your pond. It likes the trout and the water plants. It really liked it when the millers ground the grain. It felt needed. It likes doing useful work. Who is the other Iolanthe? Besides you?" Lissette asked.
"Several times great-grandmother, not sure how many greats," Iolanthe said. "She was a Peverell, married into the Potters. There were no more male Peverells, so she brought The Mill to the marriage, and a few other things."
"Well, your several times great-grandmother Iolanthe Peverell Potter is very highly thought-of by your bodies of water, Iolanthe," Lissette said. "Their memories are long."
Iolanthe hadn't considered bodies of water as having memories before.
"You know this how?" Iolanthe asked, softening the challenge a little with, "If you don't mind my asking."
"The party the other day, for my birthday," said Iolanthe. "I just got the sense that they did."
Iolanthe continued on, looking for wildlife. She was considering some scat on the track when a doe appeared, stepping out of a little clump of brush and briars at the corner of a field.
"Aha," said Iolanthe, keeping her voice down. "Where's the boyfriend?"
The doe flipped her tail up and down.
"Be careful, beautiful," Iolanthe said, "This looks like dragon spoor to me. Keep looking up."
The doe obeyed, then looked back. She snorted once, spun and dashed away, tail straight up.
"Here's where we turn," Iolanthe said to Lissette. "Wonder what that was all about?"
"One of us needs to learn deer, it seems," Lissette answered. "They must be drawn to you."
"Why should that be, do you suppose?" Iolanthe asked. "I have speculated a bit, I'll confess, but there's no pattern. Nothing points to a reason. Maybe it's meant to be a mystery."
They came to a little soggy spot in the track. It was a minor waterway, so minor, in fact, that no one had ever bothered to excavate for a culvert to direct the water under the lane. The field was sown in oats, which were now full height, the grains fully formed in the heads, and the stalks beginning to lose their green color.
"If we follow this seep, it gets a little bigger over there at the other side, then it joins the mill stream. We can follow it to The Mill, take tea, and go on back in time for swimming at Greengrass Manor," Iolanthe said. "Just so we stay along the edge and don't hurt the oats."
"Sounds like good times," Lissette said.
It was a short walk to the intersection of the runoff from the seep to the junction with the feeder stream, then another ten minutes to the mill stream. Iolanthe led the way downstream to The Mill. Lissette stopped on the stone bridge to look at the water.
"Nice pool there," she said.
"Yeah," Iolanthe agreed. "It's deep enough to sit down in. There's a sandy bottom. It's cold, though."
"Really?" Lissette asked. "Do we have time? Could I just…"
"Go wading?" Iolanthe asked. "Why not? Yes, there's time."
Iolanthe went on to the table under the arbor and removed a metal container from her satchel. She hung the satchel by its strap over the back of one of the chairs. The container, a metal tube with a screw cap closure, was something muggles had come up with. It kept beverages hot or cold, depending on your preference. The muggles, though, had not thought to incorporate one critical option—if the beverage was cold, it stayed cold, and if hot, it stayed hot. Tea was truly problematical because one might start the day with hot, but if the day became warm, by lunch time one could have changed one's mind and desired iced tea. Why hadn't they equipped the thing with the muggle equivalent of 'proxima reverso'? It seemed so obvious. Iolanthe drew her wand and pointed it at the metal container, casting a cooling charm. If the muggles were incapable of finishing the job, she'd do it herself. Now, where was Lissette?
Leaving the container under the arbor, Iolanthe walked back to the stone footbridge. She looked over the parapet into the clear water below and saw Lissette, naked, completely immersed, her black hair stretched out in the current.
"Lissette!" Iolanthe shouted as she sprinted around the end of the parapet and down the bank, straight out into the middle of the stream. She thrust one arm underneath Lissette's shoulders, reaching across to grab her upper arm and pull the young woman's head and torso above water.
"Lissette! Lissette! Can you hear me? Ohhhh…" Iolanthe moaned. "How am I going to get you out of here?
"Why do you want to get me out of here?" Lissette asked, blinking water out of her eyes.
"Lissette! Are you alright?" Iolanthe demanded. "I thought you had drowned. What were you doing, we're supposed to go swimming later this afternoon! Look at me!"
Iolanthe knelt in front of her friend, looking her in the eye.
"Lissette, tell me the truth," said Iolanthe. "Were you trying to commit suicide?"
Lissette Lestrange started to laugh.
"No," she said. She laughed harder.
"No."
Iolanthe stood up but didn't make a move toward the bank.
"I love water," Lissette said. "It's like I told you. Running water, streams, rivers. Outside, free-running water. I hardly ever got a chance to do this. Three times in my whole life. I can remember every detail of each one."
"So taking a shower…" Iolanthe offered.
"Showers and baths get me wet but they don't do a whole lot for me," Lissette went on. "Someone has tamed that water, haven't they? But this…"
Lissette lay back down in the sandy-bottomed pool, letting her arms, legs and hair drift out into the current. Iolanthe thought she saw Lissette give a little shudder. Lissette pulled her feet back underneath herself, raised her head out and pushed back upright.
"I can get dressed now, I suppose," she said, swiping at the places where grains of sand stuck to her skin. "Oh, look—you're soaked!"
"Not a problem," Iolanthe said. "In this heat I'll be dry in two minutes. The tea is ready."
Lissette shook all over, picked up her clothes and shoes and followed Iolanthe back across the bridge.
"Tell you what," said Iolanthe, getting an idea. "Let's make some use of this place."
Ten minutes later they were getting dressed in The Baths.
"Too hot for the steam rooms today," Iolanthe said as she pulled on her shirt. Her drying charm took care of the clothing but she would still need to spend some time with her shoes.
"Mustn't overdo. I'll show you how those work when it gets cooler. Just hang the towel on the bar. Winky will be thrilled to hear we've made a mess. Now," said Iolanthe, changing direction, "You're going to join me for some iced tea and tell me what was going on in that mill stream."
Lissette spent the next ten minutes explaining to Iolanthe, over their tea, how she had discovered her affinity for wild water.
"When I was eleven, the summer before I started at Hogwarts, someone took a little group of prospective first-years who'd been studying together on a picnic. A tributary of the Aln ran through a parent's land and we went out there to watch birds and poke sticks in the mud and have a few treats. I walked upstream a bit and found a little waterfall. Something spoke to me. Not words, just feelings, if we can feel a song being sung by water. Off with the shoes, off with the skirt and blouse, and in I went. I walked right into the waterfall and stood there with it coming down over my head. My toes curled up and this wonderful feeling started, down there, before it went up, to the top of my head, then it crashed down all the way to the soles of my feet, up and down, like waves, five or six times."
"I've never heard or even read of such a thing," Iolanthe said. "What you describe sounds like…"
"Uh-huh," Lissette said, giving Iolanthe a big smile, "It is. That's how I do it. There aren't normal feelings inside me. I told Lady Daphne so I might as well tell you. The only way I've been able to explain it to myself is the emotions were left out when I was made. I don't feel drawn to men or women, in a physical way. There's just nothing there. I used to think they'd come, eventually. We all mature at different rates, of course. Some of the girls, when I was a first-year, got bad crushes at the sorting ceremony. Drove us nearly crazy having to listen to it in the dormitory."
Iolanthe had to laugh. She'd seen the same thing in her class. She wondered how Scorpius and Rose managed their feelings, for that matter, they both had such an abundance.
"I think, possibly, mine have been redirected," Lissette said. "The Lafleur people didn't do me any good. Emotionally. Besides, maybe I was just meant to love water."
Lissette's comment got to Iolanthe again. When the laughter let her, Iolanthe said, "Drink up. We'll have to walk or we'll miss out on the actual recreational swim."
"I thought you'd drowned," Iolanthe said as they passed the mill stone.
"Oh," said Lissette. "Sorry. I can stay under a long time."
"Makes sense," Iolanthe acknowledged. "If I interrupted your…experience, I'm sorry."
It was Lissette's turn to snicker.
"It's not your responsibility to worry about any of that," she said. "I'll manage it, somehow. I have done a little reading, although the literature is sparse. Of course I'm curious. It would be nice to know if there are others, or if I'm a complete freak."
"I'm pretty sure you're not a freak, Lissette," Iolanthe said, "You're just magical."
They walked up the path to the house, entering by the front door.
"Hello?" Iolanthe called out. A patronus in the form of a big cat came charging down the central hall. Iolanthe braced for its jump into her arms, holding it while the lynx licked her face. When it stopped, Daphne's voice came from the lynx.
"Sweetheart," said Daphne's voice, "We've gone to Greengrass Lake, so take the floo if you want to swim. Your father had to go to London. See you soon."
"Okay, go back to Mother. We're on our way," Iolanthe told the lynx. "This way."
Harry had been cagey about his plans, other than he'd be going back to #12 Grimmauld Place. He made sure Tracey and Daphne heard him give the destination when he'd left by floo. The truth was a bit more involved. He'd been invited to coffee by Kingsley, the venue to be the Leaky Cauldron, upstairs in one of the guest rooms.
Neville Longbottom, former auror, had commandeered a suite years before and kept it in reserve for the minister's use. The latest privacy charms were always in place. If Kingsley gave an hour's notice, the charms would be updated before he arrived. The arrangement was unofficial, strictly between Kingsley and Neville. Senior ministry officials, such as Harry, understood they could use the suite only after clearing it with Kingsley. Neville didn't charge the ministry, so there was no trail of parchment to be discovered. As long as they didn't overdo it, there was no reason even a close observer would figure out the comings and goings.
Harry took a roundabout route to the Leaky Cauldron from #12, going to the ministry by floo, then walking through the atrium on his way to the reserved apparation points, whence he apparated on to his preferred spot near his flat. He walked the short distance to the flat without concealment. Once in his building, he checked all his alarms and added one ward to his door. He used the floo to get to the Leaky Cauldron, avoiding the main fireplace by exiting the system via the kitchen. The elves all looked about to greet him until Harry put his finger to his lips, leaving via the door to the rear stairs.
"Come in," sounded from inside the room at Harry's knock. He slipped inside.
"Minister," he said.
"Harry, have a seat. Coffee?" Kingsley asked, gracious as ever.
"Please," Harry answered.
"Harry, thanks for coming. I apologize for the drama. It appears we need to keep you obscured for another day or two," Kingsley began. "Your deputy. Tchk. If she isn't unaware she is doing one incredible acting job. Another piece of parchment I really needed to see concerning the Lafleur crowd was available this morning and she didn't include it in my reading, nor anyone else's. Ralph wants to bring her in for a conversation, of course. I'd like to let the investigators have one more day before we tip our hand."
"However you want to play it, Minister," Harry said. "I'm a spectator for this one."
"Actually, Harry, you're key to the whole thing," Kingsley advised, "Putting that ambiguous story out gave Fiona the confidence to overplay a bit. The skimming was bad. Abusing minors is very bad. The double dealing compounds both of those. Same for Bart. Which brings up…"
"No thank-you," Harry said.
"Harry?"
"Sorry, that was rude of me. I owe you better than that," Harry said. "How can I help?"
"Have someone in mind to bring over to Fiona's desk," Kingsley said. "Be prepared for some temporary duty."
"Yes, sir," Harry said, "Again, sorry for the jumpiness."
"The jumpiness is a human characteristic, Harry," said Kingsley, "A welcome phenomenon, from my perspective. Anything in particular eating at you?"
"I'm going to rely on your discretion, Minister," Harry said. "When I was traveling, towards the end, I went to Cebu, in the Philippines. I met a judo instructor. He is a wizard, and after a couple of lessons he recognized me. I became his student, full-time. His name is…"
"Francisco," Kingsley said. "So that is where you learned your technique. I always wondered."
"Yes, Master Francisco," Harry confirmed. "He is my teacher. He also taught Michel Lestrange, who now calls himself Jacques Lafleur. I'm also still pissed at that hit piece in the Daily Prophet, which I can't prove but believe was planted by Lafleur or someone working for him. That upset some family members. Goes with the job, I understand."
"What will you be expected to do to Lestrange?" Kingsley asked.
"Stop him," said Harry. "The teachings of Master Francisco's lineage are restricted for good reason. In the proper context we wizards work through them to master ourselves, or, as in my case, to put ourselves back together. Outside of the lines they corrupt and destroy. I'll give him the opportunity to see his error and get on the correct path. If he pushes back, I promise to minimize the mess."