Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Forty-Three
Prelude
The combined Potter-Davis household and its various adherents and retainers consumed several days processing both the administrative detritus and emotional disruption of their encounters with the followers of Jacques Lafleur.
Daphne asked St. Mungo's for some help getting Fiona to London. Once she'd gotten Fiona safely admitted to the mental maladies section, Daphne prescribed a number of potions that would keep the demons at bay pending a full workup. Daphne had to proceed with care, of course, because she could not become the attending healer for the woman who invaded her home and ended up transformed into a pig on the front lawn. That just wouldn't do, ethically speaking, even for a witch.
Harry floo-called around Kingsley's usual haunts and got him to come to Potter Manor for a formal briefing. Kingsley brought Ralph Mann and the head of the DMLE Prosecutorial Service, thus saving Harry the time and effort he would have expended going from office to office making official statements. Bart Fudge, for his part, had collected his wits and was acting like the skilled lawyer he had once been, charging Harry with false arrest and allowing the transport of Nott and himself by unauthorized and unsafe means, i.e., a dragon, as well as other deviations from standard practice.
Percy Weasley, who'd also come along to Potter Manor, seemed to be taking Fudge's claims seriously, since Bart was arguing to anyone he could get to listen that the arrest was improper and Harry Potter should be investigated for putting his two falsely-arrested prisoners in mortal danger. Considering the excellent condition of the prisoners when delivered to the roof of the Ministry of Magic, Kingsley believed there would be few witches or wizards who would find the story believable, given the prevailing views of the dangers to wizards posed by dragons.
"So they got there okay?" Harry asked. "I really am glad. There wasn't a need to hurt anyone. On the other hand, maybe now they'll take the idea of screwing around with my family with the seriousness it deserves. Really, coming to pick a fight with us at The Mill. There are limits."
Kingsley, Ralph and the prosecutor, unlike Percy, thought Harry's creative prisoner transport both justifiable and efficient. When they heard Iolanthe had been the one to summon and negotiate with Gorr, Kingsley asked Harry to bring her to the study so everyone could meet her. Iolanthe arrived, trailed by Lissette. Kingsley was effusive in his praise for both witches, shaking their hands, congratulating them on their demonstrated capabilities and encouraging them to keep studying and adding to their magical repertoires. Ralph Mann put in a plug for his force, extracting a promise from both to consider the aurors when they were making career plans.
Later that evening, Iolanthe confessed she and Lissette had been just a bit bedazzled to have been introduced to and engaged in conversation with the visiting luminaries. Hogwarts students didn't usually get private audiences with the Minister of Magic.
"You witches bedazzled them as much as they did you," Harry said. "You both did things far beyond what anyone would expect of witches your age. To just pull that out on the spot, in the wild, so to speak? Remarkable!"
Iolanthe and Lissette both got a little embarrassed as Harry went on a bit, but they liked it, too. He was a grandee, according to the Daily Prophet, besides being the dashing head of the department that was never acknowledged, which was just about the coolest job in the entire ministry, possibly excepting Head Unspeakable.
The household returned to its pre-Lafleur routines in the week following the arrests. The various ministry investigative bodies, including Ron Weasley's small Wizengamot section, put together a thick package of reports and referrals for prosecution, mainly for fraud in contracting. Jacques Lafleur had canceled his upcoming appearances and avoided public view. His staff put out the word that he had gone on retreat. Harry didn't think he had heard the last of Jacques Lafleur, but there was plenty of work to do, so he decided to let Lafleur worry about Lafleur.
Two days after the arrests of Fudge and Nott, and the commitment of Fiona, Harry's morning reading included a list of ministry employees then under suspension for confirmed participation in the skimming of ministry funds. Harry wrote a thank-you note and attached it to the list. He put another memo slip in the file addressed to his assistant, asking for a meeting that day with the heads of the counter-intelligence and security branches. The list of compromised employees was gratifyingly short, but also troubling.
"We can't let this happen again," Harry said to Daphne and Tracey as they ate breakfast on the patio. "If we don't have the confidence of the witches and wizards we don't have any justification for our existence as their ministry."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Tracey said, perhaps just slightly exceeding her brief. "Bart and Fiona were very smart, senior employees, and they knew what they were doing. They just went bad. You had every right to have confidence they were doing their jobs faithfully."
Daphne smiled her thanks at Tracey. Harry was always too self-critical whenever anything went wrong, Daphne felt. If Daphne could get an expression of support from Tracey from time to time, perhaps it wouldn't feel to Harry like a reflexive spousal comment rendered out of duty.
"Oh, I guess that's right," Harry said. He took a sip of coffee, brow still in its thinking-it-over configuration.
"At least I can't find a flaw in your argument," Harry finished up. "Now, what is on the schedule today?"
"Meetings," said Tracey, "The Carrow-LeDoux wedding and a conference on international standards for magical commodities to be held in London. It's the first thing I've done as Davis Event Management, so it has to go right. It's going to be a milestone in our business development, one way or the other."
Daphne took the floor.
"Back to work, with a limited schedule for a month or six weeks," she said. "We have to adjust our time management. The youth do well, but they can't take over for the youngest Potters, nor should they be expected to. We have to get through the next two months and then everyone is back at school except Davis and Evans."
"We need a schedule," Harry said. "My hours are usually flexible. I can go in early, come home, work out of my study…"
"So accommodating," Daphne said to Tracey.
"He is," Tracey agreed, "Especially for a grandee."
Harry recognized the sly dig, intended to deflate him just enough to keep him from becoming obnoxious.
"Who needs to leave when?" Harry asked. "I can stay until mid-morning without letting the office know, but I ought to be there by ten, or ten-thirty at the latest."
Schedules sorted over breakfast, Tracey left first, followed shortly thereafter by Daphne. Harry ordered up another cup of coffee and struck out to tour the domain. He began with Davis and Evans, who were well-fed and napping under the supervision of Iolanthe, Zelda and Lissette. Iolanthe stood up when Harry entered the nursery, cocking her head toward the door, with an implicit question whether or not Harry wanted to talk.
Harry nodded, stopping first to admire the youngest Potters in their cradles.
"Know where James is?" Harry asked when he and Iolanthe had exited the nursery.
"Try the greenhouse," Iolanthe said. "Are you getting ready to leave?"
"Not right away," Harry said. "Your mother and Tracey both had commitments so I'll be here until one of them gets back. What are you thinking of doing today?"
"Zelda wants to fly. Auntie Ginny is going to be out reporting all day, so no Burrow. Maybe Zelda can do a little here. Lissette is feeling a lot better. Giving Fiona a bit of her own back did her a world of good. She's very positive about seventh year, talking about getting the textbooks and getting a start reading-in. I don't have any plans. Raising babies, I guess," Iolanthe concluded.
"No higher calling," Harry observed. "Look what your mother was able to accomplish with you and James."
Harry did find James in the greenhouse, along with Teddy.
"Teddy—didn't know you were here," said Harry as he walked in. "What are the growers up to?"
"Starting some seedlings," James said, sidling over to get between Harry and Teddy, who was collating, then rolling up a few sheets of parchment.
"We're also talking about a possible new venture," James said. "Do you know anything about co-operatives?"
"A little," Harry said, "Like a store, only the shoppers own it?"
"That's one kind," James said, "They can be organized for any purpose. We were thinking about a grower's co-op. There are potential customers in odd places, like the Shetlands, who don't have a reliable local source for something we have lots of, because of the climate. There are also growers who can't get their product to market because transportation costs make it prohibitive. We have been trying to decide whether there would be enough business to support a co-op to help witches and wizards smooth out those bumps, for everyone's benefit."
"That's an interesting proposition," Harry said. "Why don't you men do a little more exploration? Talk to Blaise. He might be very helpful with your research. Hannah's a businesswoman, and Tracey. Chat them up. See what you can learn from them. I expect you've talked to Fabio already?"
James and Teddy nodded their concurrence.
"It was his idea," Teddy told Harry.
Tour complete, Harry walked back up the hill to the manor. Harry reflected on his good fortune in life. He had no expectation of getting help from his antecedents so the existence of his vault at Gringotts' was almost physically shocking for the eleven-year-old, castoff orphan. Later on, making an honest living following Hogwarts was, to be truthful, the result of two happy near-accidents. One was his victory over Voldemort, and the other was the ministry's active recruitment of replacement aurors after the war's end.
Harry even gave some grudging recognition to the goblins for how they had handled the fallout from his actions in the war. Taking control of his assets to fund the repair and restoration of Gringotts' London headquarters was truly inspired. Rather than get into legal wrangling with the teenage Harry over who was to pay for this or that, they restored both Gringotts and Harry's estates and other ventures to sound fiscal health before calling him in for a talk with Ragnak.
"Oh, by the way, Mr. Potter…" was Harry's figurative paraphrase of Ragnak's presentation.
Harry thought over his conversation with Teddy and James as he climbed the hill. The growers' cooperative sounded like a viable enterprise. Harry was a relative stranger to the magical commodities sector, despite his years of exposure to and conversations with Fabio. He thought he'd make a point of bringing it up with Daphne over dinner. She and Fabio had worked on the Greengrass businesses together for years. She would certainly have some insights as to the economic prospects of such a venture.
Harry got back to the patio and placed his empty coffee cup on one of the tables. The Dart sparkled in the sunlight down in the bottom of the valley. He knew he should be thinking about Jacques Lafleur, the deconstruction of his organization, the lessons to be learned, the damage to magical Britain that would have to be assessed. A cult had tried to take down Harry Potter. That would not have been all there was to it. What was the goal? What were they trying to achieve, at the end of it all?
"Good morning, Harry," said a female voice behind him. Harry turned to see Millicent Bulstrode stepping down onto the limestone pavers.
"Millicent," Harry said, "Delighted. Have you had breakfast?"
"I had something in town," Millicent said. "The wife is going to be writing and editing and doing all that retired quidditch star stuff today, bless her. We're supposed to attend a dinner tonight but I'm free until it's time to gown up. This is where I prefer to be at times like this."
Harry motioned to a chair and sat down.
"Me too," he said as they settled in. "I can think through things. It gets quiet up here."
He tapped his temple with a forefinger.
Millicent stretched her legs out in front and leaned back in her chair.
"What's next?" Millicent asked.
"Oddly enough, that is exactly what I have been asking myself," Harry answered. "We're in good shape financially, the youngsters are coming along. Teddy is launched and it looks like he is showing a little leadership for the next generation. I have my work responsibilities, of course. Something will turn up."
"Be careful what you wish for," Millicent observed.
"Of course, that's a constant," Harry laughed. "How about you? A couple of your Defense students really exceeded expectations this week. You probably feel good about that."
"They did, and I do," Millicent agreed. "Just so you know, Harry, I'm not spreading that around. I'd advise you and Daphne to do the same. Iolanthe is obviously both talented and powerful. That's something we've all seen from the beginning. She's still so young and inexperienced, though. I have a hunch she will attract a lot of attention, just going through life. The wrong sort come looking for people like her. Just like they did you. No need to bring it on now."
"I remember," Harry said. "Can I change the subject slightly? What is your perspective on the Lafleur group infiltrating the ministry and trying to do whatever it is they've been trying to do? They were putting on their lectures and retreats and selling the program. Judging by how they treated Lissette, it looks like the leaders were living some kind of hedonistic lifestyle and getting away with it. Why not make it last?"
"That's a good one, Harry," said Millicent. "I've been thinking about it, and listening whenever Ginny and I are out socializing, trying to pick up anything I can from the gossip. It's not very clear. My theory is they'd reached the limit of their growth and influence and were starting to bump up against decent people and a functioning ministry. That was fencing them in, and they knew there would be a rebound if they didn't hit first. What do you think?"
"Actually, I was thinking along those lines, although you say it much more clearly," Harry said. "At least Lissette seems to be bouncing back. Iolanthe told me she's talking about getting her seventh-year books and starting her reading. She didn't know if she'd be able to return to Hogwarts when she…ah…joined the household."
"Harry Potter," Millicent said, "You have a way with words. So does Iolanthe, if I may. You might not notice because you two think so much along the same lines. Where did she get that business about taking Lissette under her protection, anyway?"
"No one knows," Harry said. "She was just angry her Slytherin sister was being mistreated so she drew a line and dared the stepfather to cross it. Which he made the mistake of doing, unfortunately for him. I guess Kendra was the first one to tell her she'd used a legal term. None of us knew what it meant, exactly. I got a little information from the ministry. I have to say, though, it has worked out. Lissette takes it seriously. She makes an effort to be a useful member of her protector's household. She doesn't make trouble, either."
"Smart girl," Millicent said. "Harry, if you have to do anything, I'll stay until Tracey or Daphne gets back."
"I am enjoying this a bit too much," Harry said, "There must be a Puritan back in the family tree somewhere."
"Go ahead and enjoy it," Millicent said. "Look at what you and Daphne do. Lots of people owe you. I know I do. I don't mind saying so."
"Millicent," Harry scoffed, "What do you think you owe us for?"
Millicent looked at him, her face betraying some surprise.
"All of it," she said. "Everything. You didn't just buy us lunch that night at the ball. Daphne did her part, too, letting us talk and talk until she got us around to feeling safe saying out loud what we were both desperate to say, that we wanted to be together. There is still a lot of prejudice around, about people like us. Not here, though. You accept us the way we are. Oh, listen to me. I'll just stop there."
Harry looked over at Millicent, who quite determinedly did not look back.
He let a couple of minutes pass, just sitting there with Millicent, looking down towards the Dart.
"Of course we accept you, Millicent, the way you are. That's not all though," Harry said. "You and Ginny make our lives so much better, and richer, and have for fifteen years now. I can't imagine how the four of us would have lasted this long if you were any other way than just the way you are."
Millicent did take in a deep, audible breath just then, so Harry got up.
"I'll go check on them and let them know you'll be here," he said. "I can't tell you how much your comments mean to me."
Harry left via the floo in his study. A few minutes later, Teddy and James walked up the hill and joined Millicent.
"Is he gone?" James asked, keeping his voice low.
"Sounded like it," Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts Millicent answered. "Now, out with it. What are you two doing looking so cagey?"
James looked at Teddy.
"Show her," he said, "She can keep a secret."
They spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the drawings for a serious magical landscaping project they were about to undertake. The idea was to arrange some blocks of limestone from the quarry Harry had used for the stone on and around the main house, to create what would look like a natural outcrop in a shady spot near the mill stream. The actual design would be obscured by the arrangement of the blocks until Harry arrived and thought the correct words to unlock the fidelius, causing the blocks to rearrange themselves into a comfortable bench that could accommodate Harry and a reasonable number of friends and/or family.
"Will this work?" Millicent asked, looking between the two.
"We think so," James said. "So does Grandfather. He says he'll help with the charm if we have trouble. He wants us to get the stone in place and try to do it ourselves first."
"The worst that can happen is we'll fail at the charm," Teddy added, "Then we'll just make him a stone bench with the blocks."
"That's our back-up plan," James noted.
Something about James' observation got to Millicent and she let loose a laugh that was dangerously close to a bark.
"Outstanding, just outstanding," Millicent told them. "If you wizards pull this off…"
Teddy gave James a wink.
"Got to get home and check on the witches," Teddy said, walking off toward the green.
Harry arrived at his office for his first full day of on-premises work since his 'suspension' by Kingsley. One by one, the outer office staff stood. Someone began clapping and the whole office came in, almost as one. Harry took it as long as he could before raising a hand and motioning for quiet.
"You'll give me a swelled head," he explained, getting some laughs along with more applause. It took close to a minute to restore order the second time.
"Thank you for the welcome. Thank you for the faithful service to magical Britain. This is probably not over, but with your help, we will get to the bottom of it," Harry said, garnering some 'Hear-hear's,' some 'Well-stated's,' and at least one 'Very well done, sir.'
Harry's assistant was very efficient and had been giving due diligence to sorting his stack of reading material. Harry found little to disagree with in his rank-ordering and told the assistant so.
He looked at his calendar and noted the next meeting of the Wizengamot would take place the following week and wondered what his role would be. If he were a witness or a party to a charge in any way he would not be able to participate other than by giving testimony. Harry was fairly certain someone would be in touch soon. He did wonder who that might be.
The morning reading files included a fair amount of Lafleur-related material, interesting enough in itself but none of it requiring action by the department. Harry read carefully, looking for any reference, however oblique, to Iolanthe's protectee, her maltreatment by the Lafleur leaders, or the episode at Potter Manor and Fiona's porcine transformation. Nothing in the files seemed to be connected, and Harry went back through the reports, reading the non-Lafleur subjects thoroughly. By the time he finished it was nearly time for a bite of lunch.
There were a few options. He could go home to #12 Grimmauld Place and let Kreacher handle the menu. St. Mungo's cafeteria was a possibility, but he wasn't sure Daphne would be available, or even if she might have finished with her small patient load and returned to Potter Manor. The coffee shop had croissants and such. That left the Leaky Cauldron, with its congenial atmosphere and magical crossroads. One never knew whom one would see in there. Sometimes those chance meetings were the highlight of his day.
Harry automatically looked at the small booth near the fireplace but it was already occupied so he crossed the big room to a table for two placed near the door that came in from Muggle London. He'd worn a cloak for protection against soot in the floo system but it was a warm day so he took it off before sitting down.
"Harry!" Hannah Abbott called out from behind the bar. Harry waved as an elf popped into existence next to the table.
"I'll be taking orders, Mr. Potter," said the elf, "The Mistress is busy with the noon rush. Were you thinking of a sandwich?"
Harry had been, in fact, thinking about a sandwich. The Leaky Cauldron had so many, all good, in his opinion.
"What do you have today?" Harry asked. "In the way of sandwiches, that is."
"There is a roast beef, with which I recommend the horseradish-mustard combination spread and two half-dill pickle spears, or, if you're under the influence of a healer, the eggplant parmigiana with fresh provolone, both come standard in a toasted Mad Monk long roll, a little side of French fries included."
"Better have the eggplant," Harry said. "Perhaps with the small side salad."
"Certainly," said the elf before disappearing with a 'pop.'
Harry leaned against the back of his chair and looked around the room. He spotted a Harpies poster that looked new. It commemorated some team milestone and featured current standouts along with all-time greats. Ginny Weasley held down one corner, an elaborate oval frame surrounding a shot of Ginny on her broom, the quaffle under one arm, flying straight at the camera. The magical photo was at least fourteen years old. Harry didn't notice any significant differences between the picture and the Ginny he saw either at breakfast or dinner on most days. He knew he hadn't fared as well. Harry made a mental resolution to discuss some things at length, with Daphne, whenever they were someplace private. Perhaps it wouldn't violate the Daphne-Tracey Pact if Tracey were to give him some assistance with skin care, considering her subject matter expertise.
A party of four, three wizards and one witch, came in from Charing Cross Road and took a booth across the room. Harry didn't recognize any member of the group. One wore a cape, the hood for which he kept pulled up. He looked around the room, apparently assessing something before reaching up and pulling the hood back. The man's face seemed unnaturally pale, even for Britain. Harry thought he had a Leading Man look, like one of the muggle movie idols from the 1940's or 1950's, all cheekbones, pouty lips and black patent leather hair.
Harry's sandwich arrived, requiring his full attention. He hadn't ordered anything to drink, so he had to pause when the elf asked if he wanted anything. Harry asked for a lemonade and the elf disapparated, appearing almost simultaneously behind the bar. Moments later a glass of lemonade was being levitated to Harry's table. Harry's attention was moving from his sandwich, which awaited Harry's administration of a cut to divide it into two manageable pieces, to the glass of lemonade with the tinkling ice cubes rattling his way over tables, chairs and heads. The lemonade arrived without incident and Harry looked across the table to see the matinee idol occupying the chair opposite.
"Jacques Lafleur," the man said. He seemed to be about to reach out automatically, before catching himself, pulling his hand back, and inclining his head.
"Harry Potter," Harry said, keeping both hands on the rim of his plate while he adjusted its placement according to his obsessive standard.
"You can be hard to find," said Lafleur. Harry stopped still and looked at him.
"You don't mean that," Harry said. "This is our initial meeting. To get started right, we have to agree to be honest. Would you like to begin again?"
"Very well," said Lafleur, "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
"Same here," Harry said, "Since it was inevitable. There is no reason to feel otherwise. To do so would induce negative feelings, wouldn't it? Pardon me, I'm going to have two halves to this sandwich, plus the little salad, can I offer you half?"
"Ah, that's very gracious of you," said Lafleur. "I'll decline this time. Friends over there, you see. I just took the opportunity to come over and introduce myself."
"That's good," Harry said, "Now I have a face to go with the name. Is there anything I can do for you, as long as you're here?"
Lafleur leaned over the table. Whether he meant to or not he narrowed his eyes and the skin on his forehead tightened. The way he looked made Harry think of something from the canine family preparing to spring an ambush. That was interesting. It occurred to Harry that he had been thinking their eventual confrontation would have the nature of two big males fighting for dominance. Maybe he needed to start thinking in parseltongue, just to bring a little guile and cunning to the fore.
"You can call off your toadies and let me run my little piece of the culture," said Lestrange. "You don't want to listen to the message? Don't listen. You don't want to contribute to the good works? Don't contribute. We aren't going away. We have rights. Get used to us."
Harry took a bite of sandwich and chewed while he considered Lafleur, his speech, body language and state of agitation.
"Mr. Lafleur," Harry began, "No one cares about your institution. I've seen some of your literature and talked to people who have attended your lectures and so on. There isn't a lot of content. Some superficial positive messaging cribbed from a few deep thinkers. The ministry has no interest in that. What the ministry does have an interest in is fraud in contracting and the abuse of some of your followers."
"I deny any intentional wrongdoing involving public monies," Lafleur said, keeping his voice low while a shout was struggling to get out. "If anyone in the organization is tried and convicted of abusing others we will of course excommunicate them and allow justice to take its course."
"Very wise," Harry said. He laid his sandwich on the plate and took a drink of lemonade. "May I convey your thoughts to the minister?"
"Of course," said Lafleur, his consternation showing. "I'll meet with the minister if that is what it takes."
"That's entirely up to him," Harry said. "You might want to extend your period of meditation and reflection pending receipt of the minister's response."
"You're toying with me, Potter," Lafleur hissed, eyes now slits. "You would be well advised to go no further."
"Oh, I think I will go just a little bit further, Mr. Lafleur," Harry said. "Or is that Mr. Lestrange? You're from the French branch, aren't you? You attended one of the continental schools, we may have the records back at the office. Michel Lestrange, who also studied in Cebu, where he made a grave mistake. Didn't you?"
"What are you going on about, Potter? That old man teaches judo in a storefront. His big thrill was sitting in his bamboo hut hoarding knowledge that can be put to use," Lafleur went on.
Harry sat still, hands flat on the table in front of him. He didn't take his eyes off Lafleur, but the angle on Lafleur's group was good enough to detect indications they were getting restless.
"Do you remember your vows?" Harry asked. Lafleur flinched.
"Of course," he stage-whispered. "You don't forget…"
"No, we don't," Harry said, "Because our master believes in keeping it very simple. Just kneel, let him take your hands in his, and promise not to abuse the knowledge he entrusts to you. Do you remember the specific points?"
"I do not perform tricks for money!" Lafleur said.
"Your activities are seen differently, in some quarters," Harry said. "Do you remember the rules? When your error is brought to your attention, you are encouraged to consult with your master, admit your mistake, and make amends. Then you can go and begin again. The choice is yours."
"You are threatening me, Potter!" Lafleur said. "I'll have you up on charges before the Wizengamot. You won't be able to get a job sweeping up in here. I'll get your houses, I'll get your land, and I will personally clean out your vaults!"
"I wish I could say it has been nice meeting you," Harry said. "Please consider the alternative course available to you before we go too far down this road."
Harry stood, threw his cloak over his shoulders, and picked up the untouched half of his sandwich. He knew he'd really ought to get out of the Leaky Cauldron before the situation boiled over, endangering a pub full of innocent people, but he couldn't resist asking the question that had been intriguing him for months.
"There's something I've been wanting to ask," he said. "Are you really a vampire, or is that a figure of speech?"