Wheels Within Wheels – Part Three
Iolanthe
Chapter Forty-Nine
Magic Underlies Everything
Late summer life proceeded apace for the Potters, crises of state notwithstanding. Adult carers were juggled to provide for the twins so that Daphne and Tracey could take the Hogwarts students to Diagon Alley for shopping and lunch. The expedition took place on a fine August day that virtually guaranteed the Alley would be heavily populated with housemates.
Daphne maneuvered Lissette into a walk through the Potter Manor gardens the day before.
"Lissette, we're planning to go shopping for school tomorrow," she began. "Do you have your lists ready?"
"Ahh…Lady Daphne, I didn't know what to do about that," Lissette said. "You've all taken such good care of me, but I haven't needed any money. I hate to ask you to do more."
"Aha," said Daphne, "Well, you're in luck. You're our associate, by decree of the chief. Years ago, Harry arranged for income from the Black estate to be used to support the Black scholars. No one has to curtail their education for lack of finances, so you can leave all of that to me. Now, we're planning a ball for Samhain, if you didn't already know. Caroline is our guest of honor, and of course we'll need you to attend. It will be something of a debut for you, won't it? You achieved your majority in June. So we need to get started on a proper outfit."
"Lady Daphne, that's lovely but I know nothing about any of that!" Lissette exclaimed. "We aren't from this part of society."
"You're such a lucky young witch, Lissette," Daphne began, "Neither does anyone else. The Dark Lord's depravity had the effect of canceling all the society balls. The Ministry New Year and a few charities carried on, but this will be the first time one of the titles has thrown a ball in thirty years. Harry, paying respects to the old ways, you see. Who, by the way, doesn't come from this part of society either."
Thus the Potters set about keeping the clan focused on school and a fun family side-project while Harry was watching various Ministry entities systematically take apart, or at least keep in check, the structure of the Jacques Lafleur organization.
Harry took three days of leave near the end of August for some personal travel.
"I need to visit my master," Harry said when Daphne asked where he was off to.
"Cebu?" she wanted to know.
"Yes," Harry said.
"He was always your teacher," said Daphne. "This is Francisco?"
"Yes," said Harry. He was starting to focus, Daphne could see. He was hoarding energy, looking the way he had when Grindelwald quite foolishly brought him to his base in France, where he was keeping Harry's platinum lynx in a cage. He was getting the same look now, the one the lynx saw when the brigadier popped out of the portal.
"Now he's your master? You need to consult?"
Harry stared straight ahead.
"I think it's time," he said, finally.
Harry returned from Cebu tanned and refreshed. Daphne thought he might have lost a few pounds. He seemed tighter, denser, and his step had a definite spring to it.
Harry, Daphne and Millicent got together in Harry's study over tea and cakes and talked about the coming school term. Everyone had been thinking about security since the dimensions of the Lafleur problem began to emerge during the previous year. They agreed on a course of action and Harry scheduled a mandatory meeting the following day. Harry chose The Mill, under the arbor, because he didn't want the atmosphere to be too Council-of-War-like.
The elves provided cake, pumpkin juice and orange-mango sorbet, appropriate for a back-to-school party. There was a serious context for it all, though, that could not be avoided.
"Everyone," Harry said, standing up, "We need to talk over a few things. Go ahead and enjoy the cake and sorbet, but please listen. There are some security concerns this year that we didn't have last year. Your Aunt Millicent and the faculty are used to managing those so you don't have to. That isn't going to change. Just be aware that we have some internal friction in the magical community. Attitudes might be affected. Please, everyone, look out for each other."
"Anything in particular? What are we looking for?" Iolanthe asked.
"That is hard to say," Harry replied. "The Jacques Lafleur organization is undergoing some stress. Their activities have come to the attention of the ministry and the aurors and prosecutors are doing their jobs. You're all very well-known members of a family with close ties to the ministry. Let's hope your schoolmates separate you from any negative feelings they may have picked up about me or the minister or my employers past or present. If not, don't keep it to yourself. You have each other, you have owls, and if it's a real emergency, you have your Aunt Millicent."
The students looked around the table. This was serious. Harry had never before convened a family meeting to raise the issue of security at Hogwarts. He'd never needed to invoke Aunt Millicent, either.
"What about the ball?" James asked.
"We're going right ahead with the planning," Tracey said. "Our assumption is the unrest will be over and done with by Samhain so we'll have even more to be happy about."
Iolanthe grinned as she restrained herself from letting out the 'YES-S-S' that struggled against her. Even though she wasn't quite fifteen, the usual minimum age for young witches to attend formal evening events, Iolanthe had negotiated responsibility for light duties from Tracey that earned her a place in ball administration, and thus justification for her presence.
When it was time to return to Hogwarts, Harry and Tracey again accompanied the Potter-Black delegation to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Daphne staying at Potter Manor with Evans and Davis. Lissette had been lying low since she'd gotten away from her untenable home life and attached herself to Iolanthe. As a result, she'd had no contact with contemporaries outside of Iolanthe and her circle. Some of the older Slytherin witches on the platform nodded to her as the Potters walked by, one even holding out a hand, which Lissette took and held for a moment.
"Iolanthe, I don't want to hear any 'Poor Lissette' from anyone," she said, just for Iolanthe.
"Merlin, no," said Iolanthe. "You'll manage that, don't worry."
"Do you think so?" asked Lissette.
"Lissette, look what has happened since June," Iolanthe said, slipping her arm under Lissette's. "You took your destiny in your own hands, ditched Alnmouth for London, took righteous vengeance on your abuser by means of a perfectly-executed transfiguration, became a water sprite, discovered a grotto…"
"That is quite a lot," Lissette admitted.
"You're one kick-ass witch," Iolanthe concluded.
"Not sure exactly what that means…" said Lissette.
"Neither am I, one-hundred percent," confided Iolanthe. "I got it from Mother. She's a kick-ass witch, we can agree, so she can be our role model. You don't have to hang around with us. Go visit with the upper classes. Dominate. You're a demi-goddess."
Lissette peeled off and joined a group of seventh-year witches. Iolanthe soon caught up with Rose and Scorpius who were talking to Tracey and Harry. They formed their usual pod, with Zelda between Iolanthe and Rose. A steady parade of students diverted from their paths to come over and greet everyone. Iolanthe and Rose kissed and hugged the witches, many of whom they'd seen at Black Picnic at the end of June.
Zelda wore her celebrity well. The Gryffindors who came by nearly always asked if she was ready for quidditch season, to which Zelda answered something modestly gracious like, "Hope so, thanks for asking," or "Guess we're about to find out."
More than one witch's jaw dropped when Iolanthe asked, "Do you know our cousin, Tracey Davis?"
Tracey invariably turned on the blinding smile and extended her perfect hand with its perfect manicure and said, "So happy to meet you. Have a wonderful year!"
The comments, along the lines of, "I didn't know you were related to Tracey Davis! She's so elegant, so beautiful. Oh, there was the best photo of her in Witch Weekly…," continued for Iolanthe and, to a slightly lesser degree, Scorpius and Rose, for the rest of the week.
It was nearly time for the train to depart when Blaise arrived on the platform. Zelda unwrapped her own dazzling smile and threw herself into Blaise' embrace.
"You got here, you got here!" she exclaimed.
"Uh-huh," said Blaise. "I thought I was going to be late, and then I'd have to blame it on Seamus and Dean. That wouldn't have been much of an excuse, though, would it?"
"What…," Tracey started, but Zelda cut her off.
"Why would you blame Seamus and Dean?"
"Oh, because it would have been their fault, since I had to go by their place and pick up a birthday present," Blaise said, handing over a giftwrapped package.
"Uh, it's a little early," Zelda said, refraining from ripping it open.
"Not very. Go ahead and open it," Blaise said, "You can start using it before your birthday."
The wrapping paper was shredded in no time and Zelda opened the box, which held monogrammed parchment sheets and envelopes.
"I ordered it weeks ago so of course they insisted it would be ready just a few minutes before the Hogwarts Express has to leave," Blaise said. "You can use it however you like, but these are for letters, and these little ones are for short notes or a message you have to take down for someone, and the envelopes are envelopes…"
"Blaise!" Tracey said. "That is really thoughtful. Just what you need, Zelda, for a little gracious correspondence."
"Well, of course, her mother is Tracey Davis, so the standard is pretty high," Blaise said.
"Thanks, Dad," Zelda said, reaching out with her free arm to give Blaise a hug. "I'm going to write to Great-grandmother and tell her I've arrived."
"Happy Birthday!" went around the group. Harry looked at the platform clock and decided it was time.
"Everyone—have a wonderful fall term," he managed, before he choked up.
"Got everything? Trunks aboard?" Blaise asked, taking over the administration. Tracey held his upper arm with one hand while she reached out and pulled Zelda close with the other, planting noisy kisses on both cheeks.
"Bye-bye, love, see you on the pitch!" Tracey assured her before letting go.
The adults strolled down the platform, looking in the cabins for confirmation their students were, in fact, aboard the train. Ron and Hermione stood talking through an open window, which gave away Hugo's position, which led to the discovery of James, as well.
"Owl," said Harry.
"Great idea, Dad," said James, giving a thumbs-up.
"No charge," Harry affirmed.
The whistle sounded and the steam chuffed in the pistons as the drivers started to turn. Harry stepped back, waving mechanically, his mind going back in time as it always did. He wondered what this school year would bring, trying to discipline himself to contemplate something more positive than utter disaster. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was not conducive to positive thinking for Harry Potter.
Harry didn't think he was carrying a gloom-and-doom attitude around with him until Tracey spoke up at the post-Hogwarts-Express lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.
"It's all going to be fine, Harry, believe me," she said.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Just a bit of an expression, Harry," offered Blaise, "On your face. You're communicating sadness, melancholy, expectations of impending cataclysm…"
"Oh! I get it," Harry said. "It's that train. I met my first dementor on there."
"You met us on there," said Ron.
"Maybe that adds to the stress, Ron," Hermione said. "Harry's never said, one way or the other."
Hermione's layered humor was often very subtle, but her comment hit Harry's funny bone just right and he started to laugh. The atmosphere improved immediately and the conversation came easily.
"Great birthday present, Blaise," Harry said. "I may steal your idea."
"Feel free," said Blaise, "Only order well ahead of whatever date you want to take delivery. I would have thought since it was for Zelda Davis, I might get a little more performance. Her mother does a lot of business with them."
Tracey looked very pleased with herself.
"Well, if her mother had known of the order, she would have been happy to apply a little leverage," Tracey said.
"Which I will remember after this," Blaise said, adding, "I hope she likes using it. Maybe she'll write more often."
"Not arguing, Blaise, but she did kind of tear the place up last year, between quidditch and her classes," Tracey said.
"I know," sighed Blaise. "I still like her letters."
That seemed to be the case for everyone, and on that note the latest iteration of the post-Express lunch closed. Butterbeers were finished, the last chips chewed, and the parents went their separate ways. Harry had to get back to Potter Manor. Blaise and Tracey both had business matters to see to, Ron and Hermione were headed home.
Harry found all quiet and regular in Devon. Daphne was sitting on a blanket she had spread out on the green, watching Davis and Evans work at toddling. They weren't there quite yet, but it wouldn't be long and they'd be launched.
"How'd it go?" Daphne asked as Harry walked up.
"It's getting harder," said Harry. "It should be getting easier."
"Hmm…Wonder if there could be a journal article in that?" Daphne speculated.
Harry sat down and waited for one of his lads to notice him. Neither showed a great deal of interest, so Harry reached out, clearly provoking some distress in his baby prey.
"So there," he acknowledged. "How are the ball plans? Can we really do it?"
"It looks like we can," Daphne said. "In case you didn't know, you have made Tracey the happiest witch in Britain. She's planning a ball for a noble couple to be held at their country seat with the sovereign of a magical principality as the guest of honor. You're footing the bill, of course, but I think, if we provide a good time for all, Tracey will be seen as the premier event producer in Britain, maybe Ireland as well."
"Witch and wizard events," said Harry, clarifying.
"Witch and wizard, although, if she wanted to expand the firm, there is no reason a smart witch like her couldn't do a little high-end muggle work as well," Daphne said. "I think she enjoys her community, though, and the people she buys from, the bands she books. She gets to know everyone and she doesn't have to work with anyone she doesn't like."
"Blaise was there," Harry said. "Got to the platform about ten minutes before the train left. He'd ordered up some monogrammed stationery for Zelda's birthday. She was thrilled. Wants to write her Great-grandmother Davis."
"That Zelda," Daphne said. "Go Zelda Go!"
Harry eventually scooped up Evans and Davis so Daphne could fold the blanket and the family went inside to feed and change babies. The twins were dropping off when the owl flew in the nursery door.
"Window open somewhere?" Harry asked.
Daphne pointed up. She liked to keep windows open on the third floor so warm air could rise and exit.
"Zelda," Daphne said, seeing the monogram. "Daphne," she read.
"Everyone's here and doing fine. We have some interesting first years in Gryffindor. Like a Canadian. Tomorrow is my first advanced flying class with Madame Hooch. Love, Zelda."
"Got her priorities straight, at least," Harry said.
"Where are our notes from young James Greengrass? From Miss Iolanthe?" asked Daphne.
"Be along directly, I'd expect," Harry said. "Can I buy you dinner?"
The students settled into their Hogwarts routines, made new friends, and began exploring next-level subject matter. Scorpius was close to finishing his final edits of the updating and annotations to the Glott manuscript. He had found a publisher of magical books through the good offices of Professor Binns and the Headmistress, and publication was scheduled for soon after the first of the new year. There was some disagreement among the Hogwarts staff as to whether Professor Binns or the late Headmaster Phineas Nigellas Black was more tedious with their obsessive Scorpius Malfoy conversations.
Rose and Iolanthe, as fourth years, had some influence within the witches' study group, and Zelda was invited to join. She didn't find a partner right away, which didn't distress her very much because she was used to working with Rose and Iolanthe. They were tackling more difficult classes, however, and needed to focus for a few weeks until they could feel confident they had a good grasp of the fundamentals and were on their way to achieving their courses' objectives. By the first weekend of term, though, Zelda had settled in with Moira, a Hufflepuff who really did come from a rocky islet someplace between Scotland and Ireland.
Moira and Zelda were everything the other was not. Moira craved seafood and mist and hinted at banshee ancestry. She had rust-red hair and green eyes and little whiffs of driftwood fires, drying kelp and salt air seemed to follow in her wake. Zelda was London tailoring and the Black-Potter-Greengrass-Davis family network and unseemly delight in the story of her exotic conception in Speyside, Tobago. Moira was very skeptical of what she called 'the Sassenach.' Zelda didn't know what those were but decided she must not be one or Moira wouldn't be having anything to do with her. Moira's mother, beyond the Ministry's reach at their home on the rocky islet, had taught her a lot of practical magic before she came to Hogwarts. Moira needed to focus on books of magical history and theory to get an understanding of the principles behind the magic she had been doing for as long as she could remember. Zelda had a patchy magical grounding as well. She was a prodigy as a young flyer. She had grown up helping in her parents' magical businesses. She understood them and every magical business they connected with. She used her own accounts at Seamus and Dean's, the Leaky Cauldron and Morgan le Fay's. Zelda needed history, theory, arithmancy and runes.
Moira knew runes but struggled with herbology.
"Oh," Zelda said when she learned of Moira's difficulties. "My cousin is a Hufflepuff—James? Potter? He knows plants."
"James Potter is a genius," Moira nearly gasped, her voice low because they were in the library. "He's your cousin?"
"Yes," Zelda whispered back. "Our mothers are first cousins. We grew up together. Everything I know about plants I picked up from him. Tell him I told you to ask him. He's a true Hufflepuff, he lives to help other people."
Thus began a series of conversations over dinner. By the end of the week, Moira didn't have to ask, "Is this seat taken?" She just sat down across from James and they got started. James soon expected to get some herbology homework to check in exchange for the sheets he had ready to hand back. He usually had a little piece of parchment with two or three points he'd picked out for dinner conversation topics. James had a knack for spotting areas where Moira had a knowledge gap to fill. He worked the conversation toward those, being careful to let the subject matter emerge naturally, preferably raised by Moira herself.
"What beast have you sicced on my brother, Ms. Davis?" Iolanthe asked one evening as they entered the Great Hall.
"I didn't!" Zelda protested. "She needs help with herbology. They're both Hufflepuffs so I mentioned James knows plants. It's strictly scholarly."
Zelda finished with a distinct tone of self-approval.
"Don't be too obvious, but if you find out she's a banshee, will you tell us?" Rose whispered.
"Here," Iolanthe said, reaching into the pocket of her robe, coming out with a small box tied up in red and gold ribbon. "Happy Birthday."
"Is this…?" Zelda asked, recognizing the box.
"Open it and see for yourself," answered Iolanthe.
Zelda opened the box and looked at the brooch inside. She threw her arms around Iolanthe and went through a string of 'Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you.'
"Can I wear it?" Zelda asked.
"It's not uniform, so in theory you could lose points," said Iolanthe, looking at Rose for comment. Rose nodded.
"We'll get you some of the Hogwarts tartan and you can wear it like Iolanthe," Rose said. "She'll show you. You'll be devastating."
Rose and Zelda headed for the Gryffindors and Iolanthe stood, debating with herself whether to deliver James' present or leave him alone. Her plan had been to give both of the brooches at once. Their birthdays were so close delivering one present gave away the surprise for the second. Iolanthe made a decision and walked over to the Hufflepuffs.
The Hufflepuff Blacks were welcoming, as always. Iolanthe worked her way up the aisle with hugs and hand squeezing. The foreshadowing could have made Iolanthe's arrival at James' shoulder anti-climactic had she been anyone else.
"Iolanthe," James offered.
"James Greengrass," returned Iolanthe. "You have an herbology seminar, I see."
Iolanthe indicated the parchment between Moira and James.
"Iolanthe, this is Moira," James said. "She does runes. She's also developing an interest in herbology."
"Delighted," Iolanthe said as she reached across the table.
"The honor is mine," said Moira, her green eyes locked on Iolanthe's blue-gray pair as she held Iolanthe's fingertips gently between her thumb and forefinger.
Iolanthe broke away first.
"Happy birthday, sweetie," Iolanthe said, putting James' box on his plate, wrapping her arm around his neck and kissing the messy hair atop his head more or less simultaneously. "You get the same thing I got for Zelda, so you both get them today."
James untied the black and yellow ribbon and opened the box.
"Wow," he said, holding the box out so Moira could see the brooch. "That's extraordinary. Really special. Thank-you!"
James stood up to give Iolanthe a proper hug. James had handed the box to Moira when he stood, and she sat still, looking back and forth between the brooch and the spectacle of James who appeared to be attempting to squeeze the life from the platinum-haired Slytherin. Moira stood up as James let Iolanthe go.
"This is quite lovely," she said, "Nice meeting you."
"Same," said Iolanthe. Neither one of them sounded very sincere.
"That was…" Moira began when they had both sat back down.
"My sister, Iolanthe," James said.
"I saw her around last year, of course," Moira said. "I never met her, though. Somehow I didn't connect her with you. She seems nice."
"I guess so," James said. "Haven't really thought about it. She's just always been there."
"Where did this come from?" Moira asked, handing James the box.
"She saw one in the British Museum," James began. "They used a photo of the brooch for one of those post cards they sell in the gift shop. Iolanthe bought a card, took it to a family friend in the business and they copied it. Have you ever seen one before?"
Moira looked directly into James' eyes, long enough for James to begin thinking his idle chatter had caused offense somehow.
"I've got one," she said, finally. "An original."
"The one in the museum is eight…" James began.
"Nine hundred years old," Moira corrected him while still staring at James.
"How…," James tried before Moira cut him off.
"It's Viking work," Moira said. "We're sea people, in the isles. Vikings, Celts, Phoenicians. Sea people sail around, fish and trade, get shipwrecked. Raid. Get raided. A gunner from the Armada is an ancestor of mine on my mother's side. The family legend has it he signed on to escape the stake and expected to spend his life at sea, concealing his magic from the officers. Then Drake did his work and my ancestor's captain tried to get away by sailing around Ireland. Our island got in the captain's way. My brooch was handed down to me. I have no idea how many generations.
"If you don't believe me, I'll go sit somewhere else," Moira said. She stopped talking and held his eyes while she waited patiently for James' decision.
It would not be accurate to state that James and Moira formed a romantic attachment right then, as both were much too immature for the term to apply. Afterwards they did take meals together, though, no longer just dinner. The herbology seminars continued for months because Moira really did need the kind of help James could provide. Over time that changed as Moira caught up and developed her own interest in plants.
As it was, James made the best possible decision at dinner that night, casting his lot with the magic Fabio insisted underlies everything else.
"I believe you," he said, "Of course I believe you. How could I not?"
September and October were intense and stressful for Iolanthe. She owled Tracey several times a week to keep current with Samhain ball planning. Daphne arranged for a day trip to London on the third Saturday in September so Iolanthe and Lissette could return for gown fittings.
Iolanthe was determined to maintain her class ranking and threw herself into her studies. She pestered Rose over and over for more drills whenever they were together outside of class. Rose thought she saw something unhealthy developing and demanded one evening just before dinner that Iolanthe accompany her on a walk to the lake.
"Iolanthe," Rose began, slipping her arm through Iolanthe's.
"Rose," answered Iolanthe.
"I worry about you," Rose said, "Or I'm starting to. Are you overdoing it?"
"What? A little hard work?" shot Iolanthe. "We eat hard work. That's what we do. Who am I talking to? Where's Rose Granger-Weasley?"
"Iolanthe, cosmic twin, listen to me, get mad if you want, but listen first and think about what I'm going to ask. Are you having fun?"
Iolanthe stopped walking, blinked, and started up again.
"Rose, this is what my mother, and your mother, and my Grandmother Greengrass, and Tracey all did," Iolanthe said. "I've just got a little more on my plate at the moment with the ball, and it's fourth year and everything is new right now…"
"You know how it is," Iolanthe continued, spluttering a bit. "To maintain my ranking I have to get outstanding in everything, every term. Otherwise I drop and no matter how hard I work I won't make up the ground. It becomes mathematics."
"Uh-huh," Rose agreed. "Are you your mother? Are conditions the same as when your mother, or grandmother went to Hogwarts? You didn't mention your Aunt Astoria. Did she drive herself to a breakdown?"
"No, of course not," Iolanthe snapped. "She couldn't, with her condition. She was smart though. Got good marks."
"What do you know about your Grandmother Potter?" Rose asked. "Top of her class. Head Girl. Still acknowledged one of the brightest of her generation. Your Grandmother Greengrass continues to revere her, even now. Do you suppose she was a grind?"
"NO!" Iolanthe said. "Everyone said she was fun. She had fun doing whatever she was doing."
"A lot like Astoria, as I recall," Rose said. "Scorpius is a bit more subdued, but he has that too. Are you having fun with me drilling you on the difference between gnat-wing and mosquito?"
"There is no difference in magical properties and the potioneer has to go by weight if substituting, not wing count, because of the size difference. No, I am not having fun," Iolanthe spat. She squinched her eyes shut but that didn't stop the tears, so she had to let Rose navigate for both of them.
"There is just so much happening all at once and I'm trying to get it all done and some of it is so hard…"
"Okay," Rose said. She pulled her arm out of Iolanthe's and reached around her friend's waist, making steering for two a whole lot easier. "Here's what we're going to do. You are going to start finding school fun again. I know how to make you do that, so that will be my job. You will stop fretting over marks. Your Aunt Astoria taught us counting isn't living, didn't she?"
"YES," Iolanthe howled. "Oh! Oh, Auntie, Auntie, I miss you so much!"
This brought more tears, lots more. Rose didn't worry about the quantity. If the tears were coming out, it was because they needed to come out. Rose walked them slowly down the path, happy to let Iolanthe have her moment with Astoria.
"You're going to live, just the way the divine Astoria taught us, Iolanthe. Your marks will be fine, and you'll end up Head Girl, the same as your Grandmother Lily," Rose assured her.
"I don't want to be Head Girl," Iolanthe protested, snuffling, "I want you to be Head Girl, just like Hermione. All I need is to be able to get the Head Girl to do what I want done."
"So wise, Iolanthe, so wise beyond your years," Rose said, pulling Iolanthe closer.
"Ohh…," Iolanthe sighed. "What has been happening to me? I have to regroup."
"You do," Rose agreed.
"Reorganize my time, reset my priorities" said Iolanthe.
"You will," Rose said, "When you see what needs to be done you just do it. You're Iolanthe Astoria Potter. You negotiate with dragons."
"Auntie went to all that trouble to show us…"
"You owe it to her to have fun, whatever you're doing. That is the only thing she expects from you. Counting is not living," Rose finished up.
They'd reached the shore of the lake and stood arm in arm, looking at the moon's reflection in the ripples.
"Oh, Rose, what am I going to do when Scorpius marries you and puts you up in his garret while he spends his days and nights scribbling?" Iolanthe asked.
"We stay away from the subjects of love and marriage and children and garrets…" Rose said.
"You talk around it?" Iolanthe asked.
"Yes," Rose answered.
"So you're both thinking about it," Iolanthe stated.
"Not a productive use of our time," Rose sighed. "That is how far we've gotten. We agree it is a waste of time, right now, to think about that. Otherwise, I suspect…"
Rose blew out her breath between puffed cheeks, letting the sentence hang.
"Understood," Iolanthe said. "I propose the following. I will endeavor to have fun again. We'll study together, lots. You will keep me sane. That will give your mind something to do besides thinking about your hormones."
They turned and started up the path back to the castle.
"Where'd you get ideas about hormones?" Rose asked.
"Mother is a healer," Iolanthe said with a shrug. "She finds hormones fascinating. Did you know hormones figure in several types of mental maladies? Yes, it's true-hormones really can drive you crazy."
It took a little patience on Iolanthe's part and reinforcement by Rose but Iolanthe did get her perspective back and by Samhain she felt balanced, alert and intellectually curious once again. Another way to put it would be to say that Iolanthe felt like her old self. Iolanthe didn't think of herself as a diarist but she did write up some personal reflections from time to time. She had the ability, it seemed, to look at herself the same way she would look at one of her magical creatures, calmly and objectively. Iolanthe wrote up a little summation of her experience with pressure, and an appreciation of the role Rose played in circling her back to a sustainable level of productivity.
Harry and Daphne's Samhain ball was planned as a respectful recognition of the old holiday combined with an appropriate fete to honor the visit of Caroline, the Serene of l'Anse des Sorciers. As such, it would not include the overnight party aspects of a traditional Samhain celebration. Still, time was blocked on the schedule for a drop-by to the woods where a parallel Samhain observance would be underway.
Even with expansion charms, Potter Manor could not accommodate a proper ball inside the house, so Tracey had worked with Seamus and Dean and made a deal for the use of two very large tents to be joined in the middle and equipped with charmed side-flaps. The double tent would be usable in warm or cool temperatures, rainy or dry.
The ball activities were to commence with a receiving line, dinner, a welcome from Daphne, remarks by Kingsley and Caroline, and a toast to Caroline from Harry, which Caroline would reciprocate, followed by dancing to a magical band. Tracey had organized all the elves of the Greengrass and Potter households into a smoothly-functioning hospitality machine. All except Trix, who would be busy upstairs doing hair and makeup for Kendra, Daphne, Tracey, Iolanthe and Lissette.
The ball was Friday night, so Iolanthe and Lissette were excused from the end of the last class on Thursday until Monday morning. Tracey was neck deep in last minute details when they arrived at Potter Manor on Thursday evening. Tracey broke off from working her checklists to take the two upstairs for tea and gown trials.
Even without their hair and makeup Tracey assured them both they were stunning. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised, once the photos appeared in Witch Weekly, if they had to hire professional representation to manage the mail and marriage proposals.
Iolanthe had not needed to get dressed up on a regular basis. Hogwarts robes, skirt, dress shirt and tie were her only regular break from her preferred uniform of jeans or heavy canvas skirt, sandals and a green, purple or khaki cotton shirt with patch pockets. She was completely unprepared for the beautiful ingenue with the shy smile looking back at her from the full-length mirror.
"Who is that beautiful girl?" Tracey asked the mirror as she looked over Iolanthe's shoulder.
Someone knocked on the door, and Lissette peeked out through the crack.
"Oh, Lady Daphne," she said, and opened the door.
Daphne walked in, smiling.
"Let's see," she said, making a little circling motion with her finger. Iolanthe turned right, back left, then all the way right again. Daphne had to step behind Iolanthe, just as Tracey had, and look at her beautiful daughter in the mirror.
"Lovely, let's…" Daphne said and put her hands flat on the sides of Iolanthe's face. She swept her hair back, twisted it a couple of times, and twirled the pony tail into bun a few inches above Iolanthe's nape. Daphne held her hand out and Tracey stood ready with a chop stick, which Daphne slid over one side of the bun, then took a second from Tracey and slid it in from the other side.
Daphne stepped back and Iolanthe caught her in the mirror, wiping her eyes.
"Mother…?" Iolanthe asked.
"No, nothing, dear," Daphne assured her. "I see your Aunt Astoria, that's all, and someone else I've never seen before. Your Grandmother Lily is looking back at you. Yes, she is, when your head is at just the right angle. Mother has a photo. I'll make sure we show it to you."
Tracey was nodding in agreement.
"See it?" Daphne asked.
"Uh-huh," said Tracey. "I never saw it before, either, but there she is. Oh, my, Auntie Kendra is going to melt."
"It'll do her good," Daphne assured Iolanthe, adding a little pat on the back. "Now, I know you love your sandals…"
"It's alright, I have to wear shoes at school," Iolanthe said.
"Oh, we can't have you in shoes in that gown," said Daphne. "Got them?"
Tracey handed her something wrapped in tissue paper. Daphne put it on the floor and folded the tissue back, exposing two exquisite slippers covered in the same emerald silk that dominated in Iolanthe's gown. Silver filigree accents reinforced stress points here and there, and a rosette of seed pearls decorated the tongue. Daphne motioned for Iolanthe to sit down.
"Sit carefully, dear," Daphne said, "Until you're sure there aren't any tight spots ready to split open. There should be enough give sewn in but one doesn't know until it's too late."
Daphne knelt before her daughter and slid her feet into the slippers.
"Too loose? Too tight? Pinching anywhere?" Daphne asked. Iolanthe nodded yes.
Daphne held Iolanthe's feet in one and hand and waved her wand over them.
"Better?"
"Perfect, like I'm barefoot," Iolanthe said. "What was that?"
"A little sizing charm, I'll show it to you girls later," Daphne said, then signaled for Iolanthe to stand up.
"Lissette?"
Daphne and Tracey repeated the process, pinning Lissette's hair up, then letting it down and pinning it back.
"Ever have your hair in a French braid?" Tracey asked, standing behind Lissette and looking at the mirror, then back at her head, then the mirror again.
Lissette paused before answering, then said, "I'll trust you to get it right."
"Simple enough," Daphne said. "Gown fits? Room to move? You can breathe? Okay, let's see about some slippers for our VIP."
Lissette's gown was black and white, and the slippers were as well, basic black silk with white piping following all the seams. Daphne knelt in front of Lissette as she had done with Iolanthe. When they agreed the slippers fit, Daphne stood and stepped back.
"Okay, up," Daphne said. Lissette stood and looked at herself in the mirror.
"Wow," she said.
"You look good," Tracey said. "I'd take you to the ball."
"Okay, tomorrow," Daphne began. "Hair, makeup, nails. Nails around noon, or right after lunch. Be careful. Avoid re-work. Trix will wash, dry and style hair starting at three. Put yourself in her hands. Don't think, just sit. She knows what she's doing. Makeup is last, just before you go on. You won't get a lot. You're young. A little pencil. Blush. What do you think, Tracey? Do they need lipstick?"
"I think gloss, all by itself," Tracey said. "They're so perfect they don't need the kind of tart-treatment we do. Try the gloss first. We can always decide to vamp it up."
"You're gorgeous, both of you," Daphne said. "You're going to make a statement. Maybe history. Okay, be careful getting out of those gowns. Each one undo the other's hooks. That way you're sure you didn't miss any."
Tracey stayed around to convey gown knowledge while Daphne went back downstairs.
"Tracey, how do you learn all of this stuff?" Iolanthe asked when Daphne had gone.
Tracey thought that was both profound and funny.
"First of all, I like it," Tracey began. "I'm drawn to anything that brings witches and wizards together. This is the first time anyone has thrown an old-holiday ball at a country seat since the Dark Lord, and that wizard downstairs who fitted up the Dark Lord is giving us witches back our witchly entertainments. It's a huge cultural milestone. What's more, I get to organize it for your family, and I've built a little business of my own around events, so tomorrow night I get my own footnote in magical history. For better or worse. That's quite an incentive for doing whatever it takes to get it right.
"Second, when Daphne and Astoria and I were girls, we didn't have the opportunity to do all the things young witches used to do to prepare for living according to the old magical ways. It was basically one long civil war from the time the Dark Lord started gathering his Death Eaters until Lord Harry and his allies put paid to it all. Dark against Light. I know it looks like Harry was destined to win, now, the implacable cycle of sunrise dispelling the night, but it didn't look like it at the time. All of us young witches had to keep our marzipan notions of balls and gowns and silk slippers pushed down inside because there sure weren't going to be a lot of big blowouts like this one to give us an outlet.
"And, I think that is the answer to your question, in short. I craved this, as a young witch, and the closest I come to satisfying that old craving is reading and observing and using all the stored-up knowledge to get witches and wizards together and make them feel really happy about being magical."
"Wow," Lissette said. "I never saw balls that way. Did you?"
"Huh-uh," answered Iolanthe with a little head shake. "I just thought they were Mother's annual fundraiser for St. Mungo's. This is…"
She couldn't find the words to finish the thought, so Tracey supplied some.
"The ancient fabric of magical life," said Tracey. "When witches and wizards stop for a moment and reach back, touching fingertips with the Old Ones, and Our Mother, on Her sacred days."