Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Forty-Eight
A Delicious Riviera Adventure
The magical world has its own guidebooks for tourists, as one would expect. They weren't all that different from the ones filling the shelves at muggle bookstores and libraries. If a muggle would happen across one on the bench in the waiting room of the bus depot, they might amuse themselves for an extended period reading about local attractions in places like St. Guinefort and l'Anse des Sorciers. Should a non-magical person try to find their way to one of those magical locales, however, they would surely be disappointed to find themselves in the middle of a pasture or staring up at the megaliths that blocked the way further down the beach.
Harry thought the port key had worked so well for the jaunt to St. Guinefort that he'd use it for l'Anse des Sorciers. Moreover, Daphne had not only done well in her role, she'd obviously had a good time. Harry thought he'd invite her again, this time being honest right from the start. First, though, he did a little research in one of the popular guidebooks to the sites of magical Europe.
The usual way to get to l'Anse des Sorcierswas by one of the ubiquitous tour buses that shuttle travelers from place to place all over the Continent. The guidebook listed two places catering to the magical tourist trade that gave good service. The book added a helpful hint, that the traveler ask to book a vehicle and driver for a trip to 'l'Anse'as that was the local diminutive.
"So, want to go?" Harry asked.
He and Daphne were behind the closed door of Harry's study.
"Yes, I want to," Daphne said. "Does it have to be tomorrow? Can we go on Saturday? It's a lot easier for me to clear my calendar. We don't have meetings and I'll get someone to visit my patients."
"Saturday would be fine," Harry said. "Better, even. We'd just be a couple sightseeing on a summer Saturday. No reason for anyone to even notice us."
The port key was arranged for nine-thirty on the following Saturday. Harry and Daphne's original intent was to leave at nine and return at three in the afternoon, just the two of them. Through some combination of reasoning from shaky premises, wheedling and persistence, Harry was never sure just how, the party leaving for France comprised Harry, Daphne, Iolanthe, Lissette and James.
"Well, now," James said when he climbed onto the bus for the short road trip to l'Anse. The bus depot was part of a complex that served magical travelers. It was located in a mixed village on the coast road. It perched on the very edge of a cliff that plunged straight down to the sea. The presence of muggles nearby was recognized in the charm that caused the non-magical man or woman to see the cliff, guardrail and dropoff around fifteen meters inland from where it was located, and not to see the magical roadside stop at all.
The outer aspect of the bus was indistinguishable from the hundreds of thousands of oversized vans that plied the streets and roads of European towns and cities daily. The same rows of darkened windows with the headrests just visible marched down the sides, the same manufacturer's plaques appeared at the same places and the dual rear wheels waited to apply themselves to the macadam driving surface.
The proper touring magical family, once checked-in and ushered to the folding door just behind the right front wheel, however, did not enter into the usual passenger compartment. There was no center aisle between pairs of seats, nor an overhead luggage rack for satchels and backpacks.
The Potters entered a room that would have been unremarkable, had it been located in the mansion at the Black estate in Cornwall. A Bukhara carpet in crimson and indigo nearly covered the entire hardwood floor. There was a settee for two in a soft leather, also crimson, and three wing chairs upholstered in heavy black silk. Three green bottles of mineral water were cooling in a silver ice bucket. At the far end a mahogany door on the left led somewhere, presumably the on-board rest room, and a fireplace, complete with a cheery fire, cut across the right rear corner. The entire room was paneled in a beautiful, honey-colored wood with bird's-eye accents in a regular pattern. Bookshelves were built into the paneling to the right of the fireplace. A tidal pool aquarium sat atop the bookcase, slowly filling and emptying. The ceiling was also paneled, although the expanse of flat wood was relieved by a grid pattern of squares formed from lengths of casing in the same wood.
Harry and Daphne deferred to the young people, taking the leftover seats when everyone else was situated. Harry was still standing up looking around when a uniformed driver boarded and stood by his seat at the front.
"Welcome to our bus lines, ladies and gentlemen," said the driver, "My name is Bernard, and I will be driving you to l'Ansethis morning. We have done our best to make the cabin interesting for our discerning witches and wizards, but I encourage you to also enjoy the scenery along the way, which I believe you will find quite dramatic. A word of caution: Although the fireplace is fully-functional as a fireplace it is not connected to a floo network. While floo powder does work for taking the careless witch or wizard out of the bus and sending them someplace, the company is not aware of where they end up. Therefore, the company cannot accept any responsibility for mishaps related to using the fireplace in such manner, even if the passenger did bring his or her own floo powder. If there are no questions, we will now depart."
Bernard looked around. Iolanthe wondered how many people had a question ready for Bernard at question time, but didn't ask. Bernard turned and sat down in his seat. The seat and controls looked exactly like those on one of the ubiquitous touring and shuttle vans passing by on the coast road. Iolanthe watched Bernard as he drew his wand and gave it a few flicks in the direction of the dashboard, plus one tap on the steering wheel. The bus began to move.
Bernard put on a convincing show, but it did not take Iolanthe very long to conclude that he had no part in conveying the bus down the coast road. That probably did not matter because the bus was animated by magic, not petroleum products exploding in combustion chambers. The only sound was a low and pleasant tone that made Iolanthe think of a bus that loved its work, lost itself in it, and amused itself with melodies of songs it liked as it went through the day. Bernard gave himself a good workout, waving his arms over his steering wheel and occasionally tooting the buses' evocative two-toned horn.
At one point a rock fall blocked one side of the two lane road, and the conventional cars, trucks and buses had to take turns working their way around the blockage. Bernard, however, waved his arms over his steering wheel and steered the bus out over the dropoff to the sea, around the rocks, and back to the road.
"Fascinating," said Iolanthe, and led the round of applause the passengers awarded Bernard.
The bus was equipped with an internal public address system. Bernard called the Potters' attention to the tunnel ahead, where they would depart from the conventional route along the coast and divert to the quaint settlement at l'Anse des Sorciers. The method of leaving the mundane route for the magical was well-established if imperfectly understood, the first mention appearing in a manuscript dating to the year 908. The original was in the Vatican library, in a box, under seal, as well as an interdict over one thousand years old. A copy, of course, was in the parish church back at their starting point and hundreds of clerics of all ranks were known to have visited l'Anseas tourists over the centuries.
As for the method of departure from the muggle route through the tunnel, the magical conveyance passed through a waterfall inside the tunnel and somehow adjusted its route, deviating from the non-magical course. A few minutes later the bus would emerge on the main street of l'Anse. Bernard had barely finished his speech about the waterfall when the bus was filled with the sound of water pounding on the roof. Bernard sat hunched over his steering wheel, peering intently ahead through the water inundating the windshield. The bus, water and road surface combined to give sounds that conveyed some slight wheelspin, loss of traction, slewing left and right, the dropping of a wheel into a substantial pothole, and finally dry pavement. Seconds later, the bus emerged into sunlight, well-down the cliffside, coasting the last hundred meters into the parking area at the beginning of the corniche.
The village itself was not suited for motor transport as the cobbled streets and alleys were too narrow. The guidebook assured visitors the necessary adjustments had been made to allow a magical ambulance to enter and leave, according to emergency requirements. Daphne found that interesting. Magical patients didn't arrive at St. Mungo's by mechanical conveyances, even magical ones. That would have been redundant, if one took the time to think about it.
The Potters got out of the bus, stretching and twisting.
"Great job, Monsieur Bernard," Iolanthe said as she climbed down.
Everyone felt a definite chill, down in the shade of the cliffs beside the sea. Iolanthe opened her satchel and pulled out several yards of the Hogwarts tartan. She threw it around her, double-layering the cloth over her left shoulder, fastening it with the copy of the silver Viking brooch she had gotten through Anthony Goldstein. Iolanthe stuffed her hair up under her black tam and assessed their surroundings.
"Fabulous," she declared.
"Um-hmm," Lissette agreed. "It has a feeling of welcome, and hospitality, and a slow thoughtfulness."
If asked, Lissette would have admitted she didn't know exactly what she meant by her remark, as she was still standing in the parking lot with the Potters and Bernard, the magical tour bus driver.
"Maybe we should go look around," she said.
The port key would return the tourists to Potter Manor in six hours no matter where they were, so Harry had only booked the van for a one-way trip. He took Bernard aside and thanked him for the wonderful driving and tour guiding, pressing a little drawstring bag with a few galleons into his hand as they shook. Bernard was thrilled, offered to return if needed, and invited the Potters back for another visit any time.
Harry caught up to the family as it reached the end of the parking lot and the first narrow street into l'Anse des Sorciers. They walked up and down the streets at the foot of the cliff, taking their time looking at the wares of the shopkeepers, smelling the geraniums that seemed to be bursting out of terra cotta pots wherever one looked. Iolanthe was glad she had come prepared when they were in shadow, but loosened her tartan wrap in the August sunshine.
"What a delightful place," Daphne said. "What do you think, James?"
"I like the light, and the colors," James said. "Something about the way it looks, I suspect some involvement of sky and refraction from the water. Maybe."
James looked at Iolanthe, who shrugged.
"Sounds like a project," she said. "Look into it and submit the article when you're ready to publish."
"You could say, 'I don't know,'" James observed.
"I…I could, couldn't I?" Iolanthe said, making it sound as if James had just revealed the meaning of life.
The village had a number of choices for lunch. The best locations along the corniche were occupied by cafés advertising a range of specialties. L'Ansebeing a completely magical principality meant that there were some differences in the menus from what a tourist familiar with other, mundane Mediterranean seaside spots would expect.
One board featured a beautiful colored chalk portrait of a fire-breathing dragon squeezed between two halves of a baguette and promised a dragon, lettuce and tomato sandwich for nine sickels. Iolanthe went for her wand without thinking until Daphne laid one hand on Iolanthe's forearm and reached around her waist with the other.
"It's chicken, dear, commercial trade in dragon meat is outlawed," she said, getting Iolanthe under control.
A consensus did emerge, after some discussion and backtracking and the Potters settled down in a waterside patio. Their waiter was very gracious. He spoke decent English, and Daphne spoke excellent French, so even the social pleasantries went smoothly. Everyone was welcomed to l'Anse des Sorciers, it was established that the Potters were on their first visit, the waiter was thrilled to be the one to make a first impression on behalf of his fellow citizens, and everyone agreed caprese salads and Margherita pizzas would be just the thing for lunch.
"This is nice," Harry said. "I like breathing the sea air."
"It's beautiful," said James. "Someone took a lot of time and trouble to get that slope terraced and planted."
Everyone turned and looked up toward the big house on the hill.
"It looks natural," Iolanthe said.
"It does," James said. "There is a pattern to the stonework and plantings, though. They'd have regular landslides if the slope wasn't stabilized and the rain captured and diverted, making me think someone invested the time and effort to make all their work look like it just happened. They're hanging gardens, in a way."
Daphne looked at Harry.
"Brilliant," she said. Harry shrugged, deferring with respect to his son and father-in-law, whose magical landscaping kept his physical surroundings green and harmonious.
Lissette didn't have anything against the terracing and the beautiful hillside. She didn't think they were all that compelling, seeing them more as complementary accents to the dramatic cascade of water that crashed against boulders all along its path down to the sea from some hidden source a hundred meters or more above.
"Nice?" asked Iolanthe, nodding at the spot where the water formed a pool before joining the sea.
"Very," said Lissette. "I suspect it is the water we drove through on the way here. It enervates this whole area. Do you feel it?"
"You're right," said James. "Grandfather would go wild here. He wouldn't sit still until he had walked over all of it, mapping all the magic. Some of that terracing stays where it is with the help of magic, I'm sure."
The food arrived and the table was a riot of color, green, red, white and the honey-colored crusts of the pizzas. Table talk was subdued, for a Potter lunch. Something about the combination of sea air, sunshine, the sloshing of the Mediterranean through the jumble of boulders beneath the corniche, all accompanied by the steady 'sh-h-h-h-ss' of the cascade falling into its pool, put the need to converse firmly in second place to enjoying the food and company and quiet.
The Potters were finished, except for James who had appointed himself keeper of the pepperoncini, when the waiter returned. He was doing a bit of bowing and scraping as he interrupted with a, "Monsieur et Madame…"
Harry and Daphne looked up to see an ancient witch at the waiter's elbow. She wore black, primarily, brightened up with a voluminous verdigris and lavender silk scarf folded into a triangle and draped over her shoulders.
"Je presente…" he tried, but the newcomer interrupted.
"It's fine, just let me…"
She patted him on the arm and nodded, and the waiter returned inside.
"Caroline, the Serene," said the witch. "From up there."
She waved toward the house up the hill.
"Aren't you Daphne Greengrass?"
"Well, it's Daphne Greengrass Potter now, but yes," Daphne said. "And this is your…"
"Principality," said Caroline.
Everyone stood up. Daphne curtsied before going on.
"Your Serene, my husband, Harry Potter," she said.
"It's Lord Potter-Black, isn't it?" asked Caroline.
"Yes, your Serene," Harry said, accepting the offered hand and inclining his head.
"Our children, Iolanthe and James," Daphne continued. Iolanthe curtsied, as well as she was able, trapped a bit between the chair and table. James was a little distant to expect the Serene to extend her hand, but he did a credible nod of the head.
"And this is our dear friend, and an associate of the Potter-Blacks, Miss Lissette Lestrange."
Caroline's jaw dropped just a little. She recovered, though, and gave Lissette a big smile.
"Please, let's sit," Caroline said. A large man in a charcoal suit, wearing a perfectly pressed white shirt, tieless, appeared from somewhere with another chair for Caroline. She sat before scooting forward just a little, the man, presumably a bodyguard and personal assistant, sliding the chair forward with her. The Serene motioned him to come close and she gave him some instruction the Potters couldn't hear, after which the man disappeared inside the restaurant.
"I was out in my garden and looked down and I saw you here and I couldn't let the opportunity pass," Caroline began. "I wasn't sure it was you until I got down here. I've read your articles in the mental maladies journals. We share an interest. Not that we have a lot of mental maladies in l'Anse, unless this is all imaginary and a construction of my own personal mental malady.
She laughed at her own joke, so everyone else joined in.
"I met your Grandmother Davis, something like a century ago," the Serene continued. "Some kind of Beauxbatons-Hogwarts event. I've paid attention to the wedding and birth notices from all over Europe. When you're as small as we are, you keep your head down and try to keep track of everything that could affect you.
"So, what brings you to l'Anse? We're delighted you're here, of course, which I should have told you before now," said the Serene.
"That's me, Madame," Harry said. "I stumbled upon something in some reading, looked up l'Anse, was intrigued, and decided to come and see it for myself. I invited Daphne, then we expanded the party with the young people…It just evolved."
Caroline the Serene thought that was extremely funny, for some reason.
"Evolved! I love it," she exclaimed. "Most of our visitors come to us because they're traveling along the coast and hear about us from another magical tourist. They take the bus, in and out the same day, most of the time, but there are rooms upstairs in several of the buildings here in the village, so we do get a few people staying over. Sometimes they spend the night, sometimes a week."
"I could see why!" Harry said. "It's perfect. The sea, the sky, the architecture, the dramatic topography. It's perfect."
"My husband likes it," observed Daphne.
"Will you be coming back? I hope?" Caroline asked.
"Expect so," Harry said. "How could we not?"
The waiter was back with a large tray, bringing coffee, green bottles of mineral water, cookies and fresh tableware.
"Since we're all here, allow me to throw you a little welcome reception," said the Serene. The waiter distributed cups and glassware, then poured coffee, followed by the mineral water.
"Welcome to l'Anse," Caroline said, holding up her cup.
Coffee talk continued. Daphne learned about Caroline's lifelong fascination with the psychology of magical minds. Caroline interrogated the children concerning their interests, academic and otherwise. She asked James some fairly involved botanical questions and was delighted at his level of expertise. The Serene related that she'd had an earlier connection with Fabio, of which Daphne had not been aware, and told how they had met through some international magical trade matter. Harry was largely left alone, an unusual and refreshing state of affairs.
"Can I offer you a tour?" Caroline asked when the cups were drained. "Do you have time?"
"If it doesn't take too long," Harry said. "We have a port key that will take us back in about two hours. If it activates without us we'll need to arrange another."
"Not a problem," said Caroline. She signaled to her assistant who seemed to pop into existence behind her chair. "We're not nearly big enough to consume two hours."
She laughed again at her own joke. Caroline had a way of describing the entire principality as 'we' which led to a few moments of confusion when it wasn't clear whether she was referring to the physical statelet or the population or herself.
"We start here at the water. This is our business district. The owners usually live over the shop, but we have a few homes a little further on," said the Serene, snapping into tour guide mode.
The travelogue was interesting. Harry was coming up with questions almost as fast as Caroline dispensed information.
How did the little magical principality generate income? The shops looked fully-stocked, indicating a fair amount of commerce went on, so there had to be customers. The merchants couldn't be selling and buying in a steady state without some outside input. There didn't seem to be any arable land, and the hill was terraced gardens. Magic would explain a lot, but not everything.
The party arrived, eventually, at a little funicular lift. The passenger platform looked much too small until the Serene waved her wand and all seven pedestrians became passengers on the lift. Another wave put the mechanism in motion, without a sound, presumably the result of more magic. In less than a minute the platform arrived at a kind of observation deck a few meters down the hill from the big house.
"Take a minute to look around," said Caroline. "If you're worried about time we can see you off from right here. I'm going to the house for just a minute, if you'll excuse me."
"Well," said Harry when Caroline had departed with her bodyguard.
"Didn't expect a state visit reception," Daphne added.
"Nice plant selection," James noted. "See the succession?"
"James, you've left us all behind when it comes to botany," Iolanthe answered for everyone. "Could you please explain?"
"Sure," said James, "Each of the flowers you see had a predecessor, which has completed its cycle and is now just the green parts, and a successor, which will be coming into bloom as the current ones finish."
Harry looked at Daphne. Iolanthe and Lissette looked at James.
"Brilliant," confirmed Iolanthe. "Properly chosen at the beginning of the year, your flowers will be blooming throughout the growing season."
"Exactly," said James, sounding quite satisfied with himself.
Caroline was walking down the path from the house carrying a book under one arm. She stopped at a wooden bench among the beds and motioned everyone over.
"Here, Lissette," she said, patting the bench beside her. "You might find this interesting."
"I don't know how much you know about l'Anse des Sorciers, but our little country here has been magical from its beginning," Caroline said. "The first Serene's full name was Hugues Lestrange. We're still considered the Lestrange Dynasty, although we've had to make do with a Lestrange by marriage here and there. To cover a troublesome gap, you understand."
Caroline signaled the humor with a very girlish giggle.
"Healer, you're acquainted with Fleur and Gabrielle Delacours, certainly?" said Caroline, looking up from the book. As she did so she slid her hand between the cover and the stiff facing page.
"Yes!" Daphne said. "We're very close. Harry's godson married Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire. That makes us all in-laws, of a sort."
James and Iolanthe thought being deemed Victoire's in-laws was quite droll and stifled their laughs.
"Fleur and Gabrielle's grandmother and I were at Beauxbatons together. You must give them my regards. Assure them they don't need an invitation to visit," said the Serene, "Although, I could be a bit more attentive to my social obligations, I'll admit."
Attention had shifted to Daphne during the exchange. Caroline palmed a folded sheet of note paper and laid it in the open book, knocked her knee into Lissette's, and shifted her eyes to see Lissette's reaction. Lissette, becoming quite practiced at conspiracy, nodded her head in confirmation. Caroline closed her book and handed it to Lissette.
"Take it, dear," she said, putting the book in Lissette's hands. "Now that we've met, I do want you back, preferably before school starts. Read up on the family a little before you travel. All of the Potters are welcome, of course. If you let us know a little in advance we can arrange rooms for everyone right down below there in the village."
"That is so gracious of you, your Serene," Daphne said. "Of course we'll be back, now that we know you are here. You have the most perfect principality!"
Everyone agreed, the consensus was l'Ansereally was a perfect principality.
"And…" Harry said, "We're under a minute to activation. Better get ready. Your Serene…"
Harry nodded, remembered not to extend his hand first, accepting Caroline's when she offered. Caroline returned to the ascending path and climbed a little to get out of the way. The Potters linked up and the port key went live.
Dropping out of the sky onto the Potter Manor green with mixed results did nothing to dampen spirits. Everyone got up laughing.
"Still got the book?" Iolanthe asked, and Lissette held it up.
"What is it, the Lestrange stud book?" Daphne asked. The others looked at her.
"Stud book? The record of blood horses' ancestry? The bible of thoroughbred breeders?" Daphne asked, looking around. All shook their heads.
"Muggles like horses," Daphne began, "Maybe not all, but lots of them do. They breed them, race them, breed some more, race them, gamble. Some wizards have gotten the disease, but most don't stay with it because using magic to try and fiddle with nature is just too tempting. Breeders are always trying to breed and raise a superior horse, so they try this pair and that pair. Keeping track of it all in a master record. That's the stud book. Wizards can obsess about ancestry. If the book Caroline gave Lissette is a bunch of family trees, it's the Lestrange family stud book."
Harry addressed the other members of the party.
"If any of you are dim enough to discount anything Healer Daphne says, ever…"
He left it hanging, no need to go further.
"Do we have a stud book, Father?" Iolanthe asked as the party headed for the house. She pulled her tartan wrap from her shoulders and folded it into a sash, re-fastening it with her silver brooch.
"Your grandmother would know," Harry said as they walked on. "She is the font of magical history, along with Madame Walburga."
Lissette kept her head down. She looked at the book, specifically, at the outer edge of the pages. She could see the little space where Caroline's note was interleaved.
Harry and Daphne found the rest of the household in the salon. Davis and Evans were conversing as they rolled and flopped about on the carpet, closely supervised by Tracey and Zelda.
"I hope you're ready to eat, young Toms," said Daphne, "Because I'm ready for some relief."
Lissette sat down on a chair near the fireplace and opened Caroline's book. It did appear to be a Lestrange stud book, with lots of family trees interspersed with narrative chapters on the family's many branches. The book opened to the pages where Caroline had slipped the notepaper. Lissette picked up the envelope and noticed the red wax seal. She turned it over and read: "Lord Potter-Black, Potter Manor, Devon."
"Lord Harry," she said, extending her arm. Harry took the envelope.
"This is from…?"
"The Serene," Lissette answered.
Harry looked at Daphne. Daphne looked back. Harry started to slip his thumb under the envelope's flap, then thought again.
"I'll take this in the study," he said, "Thank-you, Lissette."
Iolanthe, James and Daphne all looked at Lissette.
"I don't know anything about it," Lissette said. "The Serene made sure I saw it was in the book before she handed it to me."
"Sounds like intrigue to me," Daphne said. "I'll just go see if our leader can use any help. Be right back lads."
Daphne left for the study, while Evans and Davis amused themselves, rolling and flopping against one another.
Daphne found Harry sitting behind his desk, the folded parchment on the blotter before him. Harry had his wand out, moving it slowly over the parchment, back, and back again, a few inches above the desk top.
"Nothing obvious," he said, without looking up. "I'm confident there hasn't been anything Dark put on it, but there could be other tricky things. I'm ready to try a little revealing, if you're game?"
"Absolutely," Daphne said. "We must get to the bottom of this."
"Okay, here we go," Harry said, with a wave. Nothing happened. The result was no result at all.
Harry paid strict attention to the seal and cast a revealing charm on the wax impression, again without getting any reaction.
"Let's see," Harry said, slipping a letter opener under the sealed flap. He shook the sheet to unfold it, as Daphne positioned herself to read over his shoulder.
"My Lord Potter-Black," the note began.
"Thank you for visiting our principality with your beautiful family. Business dictates I must visit London next week. I would very much appreciate it if you would permit me to call on you Monday afternoon. The time and place will be at your convenience. I will await your reply.
Regards,
Caroline"
"Your instincts were correct, Harry," Daphne said, kneading his neck and shoulder muscles.
"Maybe," Harry said, "But she could also be trailing a reporter and a photographer from Witch Weekly, doing a little publicity for l'Anse."
"Could be," said Daphne. "I doubt it. Right now I'm going to take your twins upstairs for a meal."
"Oh, will that be conducive to consultations?" Harry asked, standing up.
Harry and Daphne each took a twin, climbed the stairs, then picked out a rocker in the nursery.
"I'm open for revelations," Harry said.
"You have been worrying your Jacques Lafleur problem for weeks, Harry," Daphne began. "St. Guinefort is part of it. So is l'Anse des Sorciers, and the Serene. So is Caroline's self-invitation to wherever you want to meet. You've already given that some consideration, if I know you, and I think I do, and my guess would be #12 Grimmauld Place. My second guess would be The Mill."
"Actually," Harry said, "I have considered those…"
"Hah!" agreed Daphne.
"And, I think I'd like to take our demi-royal someplace special. Not that our lovely homes aren't special, no, just something special, and a bit different," Harry said, dragging it out and savoring every morsel. "I'd like to buy her lunch at Morgan le Fay's."
Daphne didn't say anything. She wasn't at a loss for words, rather, she was thinking through what Harry had said, looking at the different facets. Harry had his reasons, surely. She didn't know exactly what those were, but they'd be well-founded. She couldn't identify a fault in his plan.
"Mind if I ask why?" Daphne asked.
"It's convenient, Blaise can handle security, and everyone is in a good mood, sitting there looking out at London." Harry rocked back, his face sporting a very satisfied look.
"As long as she isn't afraid of heights," Daphne said. "Have you looked into that?"
Harry's face fell.
"No," was anti-climactic.
"She probably isn't," Daphne conceded, "Or she wouldn't have been so comfortable on the funicular, going up to her palace on the hill. It would still be a good idea to find out before you pop out of the fireplace at Morgan le Fay's."
Harry nodded.
"Point," he acknowledged. "Okay, can we go on? What do you think she wants to see me about? Social stuff? She's quite pleased to know you, even I could see that. My job? Closer cooperation? Does l'Anseeven have a service like ours? I'd better check that out, too. Then there's Lafleur."
"Yes," Daphne said, "And Jacques Lafleur is…"
"Michel Lestrange, or he was at birth," said Harry.
"And Lissette, our daughter's faithful retainer, has the Lestrange stud book, personally delivered by probably the highest-ranking Lestrange peer on the Continent," Daphne finished up. "Do you suppose she is meant to find something in there? I admit up front that is what I've been thinking."
Harry stopped to collect his thoughts. Daphne removed her baby and traded with Harry. Harry took his to a crib, changed him, and watched to make sure he was drifting off.
Washed up and back in his rocker, Harry offered a theory.
"Lafleur, or Lestrange, wants to make use of l'Anse," he said. "He might have a claim to succession, who knows? He's got his companies, the hotel project on St. Guinefort that he buys and sells, and now he wants a sovereign jurisdiction. There would be all kinds of things one could do with one's own sovereign state.
"My working assumption will be that she wants some help with Michel Lestrange," Harry went on. "If it is just socializing, that's fine, too. We'll go to lunch. Can you handle having an invitation ready for a longer stay before the weather gets bad? Something suitably splashy, but tasteful, considering our guest's rank. You've got the expertise, Tracey, your mother…If we threw a ball, in honor of a magical Serene from one of the oldest houses in Europe, respecting the old ways right down to the knee-britches…"
"Harry," Daphne said, "Are you sure you aren't a Slytherin? That would have some ramifications. Impact. A ball? Where? Other than the charities and the Ministry New Year's, we haven't had a ball since the second war. You'd be declaring the troubled times are behind us. Harry Potter would be announcing it's time to let a few of the old traditions back into magical life. Have you thought about that?"
"Not in those terms," he said. "I do respect tradition, though. Our traditions, and the old holidays and Hogwarts and bowers, those set us apart from muggle culture. I like them better than their muggle counterparts. If throwing a ball for our house-guest Caroline would be a step in normalizing our society, then I say, let's throw a ball."
Daphne rocked and fiddled with Davis' placement while she thought through some alternatives.
"The Autumn Equinox is September 23, so it is probably a bit late for us to start planning. Assuming Caroline says yes to the idea on Monday, we could go for Samhain, October 31," she said, finally.
"Good one, a ball for Samhain," said Harry. "I'll go down and compose something. We'll send it by owl. I'll propose lunch on Monday. If she has a commitment, we can still do Morgan le Fay's, we'll just do tea and a fruit salad, upstairs. You'll check my work?"
"Sure," said Daphne.
Harry's work was fine, and went out by owl before sundown. Caroline's reply was back before the Potters turned in that night. She regretted for lunch, due to a prior commitment, but accepted the invitation to tea. She liked the idea of a longer stay around Samhain, but could only tentatively accept until it was determined it did not conflict with something already on the state calendar.
Kingsley gave Ministry Protocol something useful to do, for a change, managing Caroline's day in London, so the meetup at Morgan le Fay's came off perfectly. Caroline loved the overhead views of London, and wasn't at all bothered by the height. Daphne even managed to break away from St. Mungo's for a brief drop-by. Caroline was delighted when Daphne arrived wearing a very witchy black trench coat with a black velvet collar over her everyday hospital work scrubs. Daphne assured Caroline she could have a few more days before committing for Samhain, one way or the other.
Later that evening, Daphne joined Harry in his study at Potter Manor.
"Jacques Lafleur, always Jacques Lafleur," Harry said. "Caroline is a twice-great-aunt, as I understand it. Lafleur wants to charter a few things in l'Anse. Caroline needn't concern herself with what they'll be doing, of course, he reassures her, everything is legal and above board, and l'Ansewill get a very nice flow of tax money with no work required on its part. Caroline expressed a complete lack of interest and Lafleur has been making some threats. She's worried."
"She should be," Daphne said. "Perhaps wary is better than worried. So, how does this all wind down, Harry? When does the law come down on this fraud?"
"We've turned our documentation over to the aurors and the prosecutor's office. I have to stay out of it now. Which means, I'll be paying a lot more attention to you and everyone around here," said Harry. "Lafleur is a criminal, after all. He won't go quietly. I was sure he and I would have had this sorted by now."
Harry stopped talking, pinching his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.
"Let's go through our security plan again. I'll take a day of leave tomorrow. No stone unturned, how's that?"
"Of course, if you think it best," Daphne said.
"How are we for Hogwarts shopping?" Harry asked. "I haven't been keeping up very well."
"You've had a lot on your plate," said Daphne.
"True," Harry said, "But that's no excuse. Maybe I can be a little more reliable now."
When someone knocked on the door, Harry and Daphne both answered.
"Come in!"
Iolanthe opened the door a crack and looked in.
"Good time? Come back later?"
"No, of course not, sweetheart," Daphne said, "If it's important to you it's important to us."
Iolanthe stepped into the study, held the door open for Lissette, then closed it behind her.
"Lissette's been reading her family stud book," Iolanthe advised. "We agree you should probably look at something."
Harry and Daphne turned to look at Lissette, who took a few steps closer before putting the open book on Harry's desk.
"This is my father," Lissette began. "He's John, although he was named Jean-Charles by his parents, and that's my mother, and me. It looks like he is a first cousin of Caroline's. There is a big age gap, but their fathers are brothers. Iolanthe and I both looked and we can't find any relative closer to Caroline."
"Well, congratulations, Lissette," Harry said. "That has to make you an Honorable, at the very least."
Lissette turned crimson and looked down. Daphne cocked her head at her husband, just a little.
"That's wonderful news, Lissette," Daphne tried. "Now we'll have to make sure you get to know Caroline better. L'Anselooks like a wonderful principality and the Serene was incredibly gracious. You might find you'd enjoy spending a little time there. It's a lovely part of the world."
"I suppose," Lissette said.
"How's your French?" Iolanthe asked.
"Could be better," Lissette admitted.
"It can only improve in l'Anse," observed Iolanthe.
"Can I keep this? For a little while?" Harry asked. "I've never had one of these before, I'd like to do some reading."
"Of course," Lissette said. "Keep it as long as you like. Up until I have to give it back to the Serene."
Lissette looked at Iolanthe, who opened the study door and led the way out into the hall. Daphne closed the door behind them.
"Is the picture clarifying, Lord Department Head?" Daphne asked.
Harry's head was down as he was still looking at the page Lissette had just shown him.
"We're going to spend some time with this," Harry said. "I want to do it together. Each of us might catch something the other doesn't. You're going to be much more knowledgeable about some of these families and their history than I am. You grew up in it. You're always better with the ancient and noble lore. I don't mind admitting I rely on you for subject matter expertise."
"Ah-hah!" Daphne said. "Finally. Who did you rely on before you met me?"
Harry thought for a moment.
"Molly Weasley is well-informed," he said. "The Weasleys had a natural aversion to the extreme tribalism, but they're both from pureblood families so they know their stuff. Ron Weasley can come up with some surprising insights. Neville got a lot of it from his grandmother. I always thought she was trying to make up for his parents being gone while he was young, like it would have been their job, so she had to work that much harder.
"Anyway, I defer to you."
"And I defer to you in all your areas of expertise," Daphne reassured him.
"Like what?"
"Oh, collection of information of the sort the holders don't want collected, conferring titles on your wife, making her kittens…"
"Stop," Harry said. "You aren't telling me I've made some more, are you?"
Daphne looked at Harry's face and started laughing.
"No," she said, "Not yet, anyway. Would you be upset if you did? With me? Or yourself?"
"Of course not," Harry said. "it just struck me that you were using some interesting language to let me know, and it was a bit of a shock, that's all. By the time Evans and Davis are out of Hogwarts we'll have raised two families, in a way."
Daphne walked behind Harry's desk and pulled his chair, and Harry, out a little way. Turning the chair on its swivel, Daphne sat down on Harry's lap and pulled his head close.
"We will," she said, "I never envisioned anything like this. When Astoria and I were girls we were pretty much absorbed in one another, and Tracey, then it looked like the world was going to be in chaos forever. You were always in the back of my mind but I could never see any possibility of us getting together. Then we did, and we got Iolanthe, and I thought that was it, I could not be any happier or more fulfilled, and then James came, and you brought Tracey and Zelda in. Just when we think we're done…Surprise!"
"All true," observed Harry. "Speaking of Tracey and Zelda, have you mentioned house-hunting?"
"We haven't gotten past the speculative phase," Daphne said. "Any particular reason you're thinking about it? With everything else that's on your mind?"
"No," said Harry, "If she wants to move to the Black estate when Zelda goes back to school, that would be fine. She could stay here, too, if she wanted. It's a big help with the twins when she's around. It's just a backup for her, were all of our assets suddenly unavailable."
"Ahhh…like muggle insurance," Daphne said.
"Yes," Harry said, "Yes, that's very close to what I had in mind. A little something she could count on being there if she were suddenly alone and had to start all over. Maybe she's got that managed. Maybe it's all moot, or not my business."
Harry rubbed his chin and thought for a bit before starting up again.
"It's not that I think we should interfere in Tracey's life," Harry said. "She and Zelda are more than family friends, or your cousin and her daughter. I have to think about how you and the children would get along were I not here. It's not pleasant but that is one's duty. There's a duty to include Tracey, in a way."
"Are you worried about the Lafleur situation?" Daphne asked.
"The law enforcement side has begun to make a little noise. The simple fact that there is an investigation causes concern. People who know they have a reason to be jumpy get jumpy," said Harry. "If the time comes when Lafleur and I are face to face and about to settle accounts, that is when I will use you. It won't be anything like whatever you have in mind. You will have to stay out of the fight, and I'll use you, just as I promised. Just remember to stay out of it, until it's done."
"Merlin, Harry, can you be a little more obscure?" asked Daphne, her voice a mixture of distress and confusion.
"Don't worry about it now," Harry said. "It really ought to work out just fine. You'll see."
He looked in her eyes.
"Really, you'll see."