Wheels Within Wheels
Iolanthe
Chapter Fifty-Six
Resolutions, New Year's and Otherwise
Harry planned Black Christmas for the first Saturday in December, even though it wasn't Iolanthe's birthday, because he wanted to make it possible to maximize the Black scholars in attendance. James thought and thought about Black Christmas and Moira.
James didn't think it would be appropriate for him to invite Moira on his own. He also didn't think Daphne would invite her as a favor to him, unless she knew Agnes and Mr. Turley wouldn't object. He wanted to go because he always enjoyed being at the Black estate during Christmas season, surrounded by interesting witches and wizards. Besides, it was Iolanthe's official birthday celebration, and he had only missed one of those in his entire life.
James had been mulling over his dilemma for a week when he awoke one morning with his mind free of conflicting thoughts. James wanted to be wherever Moira was. If Moira was invited to Cornwall, James wanted to be in Cornwall. If she couldn't attend Black Christmas, for whatever reason, James would remain at Hogwarts. Clarifying where they stood with one another led to the resolution of a number of questions and conundrums in James' mind.
He was working his hardest at Hogwarts to prepare for the time when he and Moira would be able to make plans for their future lives together. As long as they were on the same path, each had a place, as close to the other as practicable.
"Don't the Potters have a big party coming up?" Moira asked as she and James chatted over breakfast one morning.
"Um-hmm," said James as he tried to swallow his mouthful of scrambled eggs before speaking. He took a pull on his glass of chocolate milk. "Black Christmas. Dad does it as an excuse to get all the Blacks together and drink toasts and spread cheer. It's also Iolanthe's birthday party."
"Are you going?"
"Don't think so," said James.
"When is it?" Moira asked.
"First Saturday in December," James said.
"So you can go," stated Moira.
James looked at her. He knew where she was headed.
"You haven't been invited," James said. "I tried to figure out how to get Mum to work with Mrs. Turley to get your parents' permission and send you an invitation and my brain got tired. I got up one morning and realized I didn't want to think about it. If you get an invitation, I'll go. If you don't, we'll be here. It's a Saturday. You can spend the entire day with me in the greenhouses. I'll show you how to fertilize venomous tentacula without getting bitten."
It was Moira's turn to give total concentration to keeping her breakfast inside her mouth. She held her napkin to her lips and closed her eyes so she wouldn't look at James and lose everything. Eventually she was able to take a drink of the water in the tumbler before her and return to normal conversation.
"James…" she began, before James put his foot down.
"Moira, it resolves all the questions," he said. "They can arrange for both of us, or we can enjoy a weekend here. It's pretty simple. We'll be happy either way."
Something definitive in James' tone ended the conversation and they turned to other subject matter.
Three owls flew into the Great Hall together during breakfast on the last Saturday in November, swooping down to the Hufflepuff's table and dropping three envelopes between James and Moira. James picked one up and handed it to Moira. Then he picked up a second and handed it to Moira. The third one was James.'
Each opened an envelope and began to read. They looked at each other, huge grins going back and forth. Then they went back to reading.
James had a note from Harry and Daphne with details of the arrangements they'd made to bring the Potter-Black delegation from Hogwarts to Cornwall on the Friday before Black Christmas. Daphne had corresponded with the Turleys and they had given permission for Moira to leave school and return with the others.
Moira had a letter from her mother with an attached permission letter addressed to the Headmistress confirming parental approval for the overnight trip. The other envelope held an invitation to Black Christmas, to be observed at the Black estate in Cornwall on the first Saturday in December.
"Turned out all right, I'd say," Moira observed. "What do I take to wear?"
"It's a wide spectrum," James assured her.
Iolanthe, true to her word, kept an eye on Bridget. She didn't want to be obvious about it, but the young witch arrived with some big gaps in her knowledge. Iolanthe's theory was that Bridget's gran had taught her some useful household spells to enhance her work around the grandmother's little magical boarding house. Unfortunately for Bridget she hadn't thought to give her a good grounding in some of the basic magical skills and practices, and Bridget's magical education was being affected in a negative way.
Iolanthe had observed Rose inspecting Bridget's wand and giving it a little field cleaning while they were helping her learn to change the match to a darning needle and back again. Bridget didn't appear to have an actual relationship with her wand. If she didn't it wasn't much of a mystery why the wand didn't feel like putting itself out for her.
Iolanthe spotted Bridget in the common room with her first year's Standard Book of Spells. She went to her room and came back with her little canvas wand cleaning kit.
"What's new in Cork?" she said as she sat down across from Bridget and dropped the kit on the table between their chairs. She pulled out her wand and laid it on the table beside the kit.
"There's very seldom anything new," said Bridget, looking up from her book.
"What are you doing?"
"Wand," said Iolanthe as she gave hers a little twiddle between two fingers. "Dab on a little beeswax, give it a buff, then a drop or two of lemon oil, followed by another buff. Mr. Ollivander swears by it. He practically required me to take an oath that I'd be a faithful polisher before he'd let me go with my wand."
She touched the soft beeswax in the little jar with a fingertip and put little dabs of it up and down the wand. Then she took the little piece of cloth from the kit and distributed the wax evenly before buffing the wood.
"What spells are you looking up?" Iolanthe asked as she continued buffing.
"Variations of reparo," said Bridget. "I had no idea there were so many ways to fix things that were broken."
"Very handy," said Iolanthe. "Hardly a day goes by…"
She laughed at her own joke, Bridget joining in.
"Want some?" Iolanthe asked, holding up the little jar. "Before I put the cap back?"
Bridget took out her wand and Iolanthe tried to inspect it without being too obvious. It looked like a serviceable wand, overall. There were a couple of dings in the wood but those were almost inevitable. The wand looked a lot like Harry's and Iolanthe wondered if it was holly. She decided not to pry and ask about the core since many witches and wizards deflected such questions due to superstitious beliefs about nefarious countermeasures an enemy could use if they knew those details.
"Give it a quick wipe before putting the wax on," said Iolanthe, "Then just touch the wand with the fingertip with the wax on it."
Iolanthe took Bridget through the basic cleaning, waxing and oiling drill that Mr. Ollivander had shown to countless customers over the decades, including Iolanthe Astoria Potter.
"That's all there is to it," she said. "Now you're all set for when you find something to repair. How are your lessons? Everything going smoothly?"
"So far," Bridget said. She looked around the common room. "Cordelia knows a lot more than me. I've been told Miss Annabelle's is the best school for young witches. I suppose there must be schools like it in Ireland but I haven't heard of any, at least not in Cork."
Iolanthe thought about what Bridget had said. There was more meaning in her statement than the bare words revealed.
"Don't worry about what Miss Annabelle's teaches," she said, "What matters is what you learn in your lessons at Hogwarts. The sorting hat put you both here. It had its reasons. Apply yourself. Practice. If you get stumped, help is available. You are a Slytherin, Bridget. We do not fail, no matter how hard the task. Understand? You have the solution to every problem here, and here."
Iolanthe tapped her first two fingers over her heart, and against her temple. Then she put her supplies in the little canvas kit and went back to her room. She resolved again to keep an eye on Bridget. It wouldn't do to let her get discouraged because she hadn't been born with the advantages Cordelia had.
Hogwarts Blacks who would be attending Black Christmas were free to leave Hogwarts' grounds at the end of the final class of the day. Millicent Bulstrode once more took charge of getting the students safely away. Most were going home, and would proceed to Cornwall with their families on Saturday morning. The Potter-Black delegation, Iolanthe and James, Scorpius and Zelda and this year's addition of Moira Turley would go directly, as would Millicent. Ginny was also free for the weekend and would meet Millicent at the Black estate.
Iolanthe had been feeling a bit fraught about having Moira staying over Friday night. Daphne pulled her aside as soon as everyone arrived and confirmed her fears.
"Sweetheart, we don't have Lissette this year, so I have to ask you to be a good hostess and let Moira share the tower room," she said. "Can you do that?"
"I can," she said. "There wasn't a lot of enthusiasm in that, was there?"
"Oh, Iolanthe," said Daphne. It sounded like she snickered and sniffled at the same time. "You are so much like your late aunt. That sounded exactly like her. No, there wasn't a lot of enthusiasm but you are such a Potter down under that Slytherin coating, you are always ready to do your duty. That may be what this is. They seem to have each met their match."
"I know," said Iolanthe with a little added moan. "I felt it not long after we got back to Hogwarts. It's time I make peace with it. I'm going to try, Mother. Merlin forbid I ever do anything to make James unhappy."
"Let's hope you don't need that level of help," Daphne said. "You might not even have to talk, everyone usually goes right to sleep on Friday night. Can you take Moira in hand and show her your room?"
Iolanthe found Moira with James. Not seeing any need to dither, she walked up to them and got down to business.
"We need to get you settled, so grab whatever you've got and I'll show you where you'll be sleeping," said Iolanthe.
Moira had a small canvas bag with a drawstring closure. She picked it up by the cords and flipped it onto a shoulder.
"Lead on," Moira said.
Moira was just as taken with the tower room as Lissette had been. She looked around at the basic room features as Iolanthe pointed them out. Closet, dresser with its two drawers apiece, and the bath. Iolanthe called for Melon.
"What have you got to hang up and put away?" Iolanthe asked.
Moira pulled the mouth of the bag open and dumped its contents on one of the beds.
"Change of clothes, comb and brush and this dress," she said, picking up a tissue paper bundle. She held the dress up and shook it out. It was a full length red and green velvet number with a bit of poof to the skirt and a scoop neckline. There was a pair of red velvet slippers to go with the dress. Something Elizabethan lurked in the design.
"That is a gorgeous dress, Moira," said Iolanthe, the surprise evident in her voice. "What kind of Christmas parties do you have on St. Magnus? I have to go visit, I can see."
"They aren't as elaborate as this one," Moira said. "I probably wouldn't wear this on the island. I got it from Madame Malkin. Spent some of my fishing money."
Iolanthe prided herself on having a pretty good idea of what was going on at Hogwarts but Moira had pulled her coup off without a hint getting back to Iolanthe. She looked out into the hall then closed the door.
"Want to model?" Iolanthe asked, nodding at the bathroom. "I'd like to see it."
"Why not?" said Moira. She went in and was back minutes later. Moira stepped into her slippers.
"What do you think?" Moira asked. Someone knocked on the door as she spoke.
Iolanthe opened the door a crack and looked out. She motioned to Moira to step off to the side, then opened the door for Daphne and Tracey.
"Moira!" exclaimed Daphne as Tracey closed the door. "You've transformed. Tracey, as Merlin is my witness, the last time I saw Moira she was in a sweater she wears to go out on her boat and she had a knife this big hanging from her belt."
Daphne held up her hands, perhaps exaggerating just a little.
"Uh-huh," said Tracey. "She certainly looks the type. Madame Malkin, Moira?"
"Yes," Moira said, getting a little rosy-faced.
"Genius, look at those colors," Iolanthe said.
"And the slippers!" said Tracey. "Mine are so tame!"
Tracey was wearing emerald green silk pajamas and matching slides with open toes, accented by crimson nails upstairs and down.
"Yes, tame," Iolanthe affirmed.
"Well, Moira, you are absolutely gorgeous. Are you all settled in? Melon showed up and worked her magic? We'll sit down for dinner shortly, so why don't you two get into whatever you're going to wear this evening and do what you have to do before dinner and come on down?" Daphne asked. She and Tracey took one more look back at Moira and left.
"As of tonight, you're an established star. Go ahead and change, I'll wait," Iolanthe said.
Iolanthe wasn't the only young woman intent on finding some route to accommodation at the Black estate that evening. Moira had felt the same force pushing her away from Iolanthe that Iolanthe always from her side. She knew it was not based on anything she knew about Iolanthe, nor anything Iolanthe had done to her. She hadn't known Iolanthe long enough. It was just there from the first moment they laid eyes on one another, as if each had a magnet-like field intrinsic to themselves, and the wrong end always faced the other.
Moira was intuitive enough to grasp that as the outsider coming to an established relationship, she would have to find the way to make things work with Iolanthe if she were to end up with James. That was the bare minimum. Everything else could wait.
The Potters sat down to dinner at the great table in the Black estate dining room, joined by Draco and Scorpius Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode and Ginny Weasley. Zelda and Ginny sat across from one another, the better to enjoy their quidditch-only conversation. Scorpius gave everyone an update on his current course of studies. Lucius Malfoy had handed Scorpius an old potion book written in Latin over the summer and asked if Scorpius' Latin was up to the task of translation. Scorpius spent several days with the text and his Latin-English dictionary before concluding the Latin was a translation from an even older magical text, which changed the direction of his research and eventually led to the ministry library and a bound manuscript in Old English that pre-dated the Conquest. Scorpius was still comparing texts with an idea to producing a modern English translation drawing on both sources. As to whether the resulting potions would be worth the trouble, Scorpius couldn't say.
Draco and Millicent declared that the project was some of the most significant magical scholarship produced all year. Daphne thought she heard Astoria in Scorpius' reporting. Zelda and Iolanthe knew Rose had made her peace with Scorpius' determination to become an academic. They had also heard her confess her suspicion that if anyone was going to make a living for the two of them it would have to be her. Zelda and Iolanthe exchanged looks, then quickly turned back to their conversational partners.
James kept an eye on Moira. She hadn't had long exposure to the circle around Harry, Daphne and Tracey and he didn't want to see signs she was getting too much, too soon. James knew the Potters were exotic. Moira hadn't said a great deal about James' surroundings after Samhain at Potter Manor, but he knew his family had to look very different from Moira's magical fishing family on St. Magnus.
Dessert was a great bowl of profiterole with a warm chocolate sauce. Everyone took some. Some took lots. It was good, and a source of warm, inner, Christmas-y feelings, all by itself.
Food and conversation could only push back against fatigue for so long and the student delegation began to flag. Iolanthe and Moira made their farewells and climbed the stairs to the tower room to get some sleep and be ready for a full Saturday. Moira had been listening carefully, besides carrying out surreptitious surveillance of Iolanthe throughout dinner, hoping to identify an opening where they could begin a civil conversation.
"Happy Birthday, Iolanthe," said Moira when they got to their room. "It was the first, wasn't it? James finally got around to telling me."
"Thank-you," said Iolanthe, "That is so James. Yes, December first."
"Needless to say I don't have a card or anything else. I'll try to make this the last one I miss," Moira said.
There was no additional conversation until Iolanthe climbed into her bed and flicked her wand at the last lamp.
"Nox," she said.
Moira decided then was as good a time to try as any. Putting it off wouldn't make it any easier.
"How are we going to do this?" Moira's voice sounded out of the dark.
Iolanthe looked over at her. The moonlight was just strong enough to outline Moira's face, framed in her head full of red waves.
"We treat each other with respect," Iolanthe said. "There is no requirement that says you have to like me, nor I you. To make James' life workable we swear off conflict, forever, if it comes to that. For James. If we must speak frankly we do it in private."
Moira lay in bed thinking.
"You and I don't have a lot in common," Moira observed, "But that's not it."
"Very observant," said Iolanthe. "It's something else."
Neither one said anything right away.
"I'm quite mad for the Potters, as a group," Moira offered. "I don't mind saying so, either. The energy you all generate is invigorating."
"And we both love James," Iolanthe continued, partly for Moira.
"James and I haven't gotten that far," Moira protested, her voice suddenly very low and husky.
"No matter," Iolanthe answered, "I said it so you don't have to. The two of you will get there if neither of you makes a complete mess of things. It's the logical end-state, and people can find each other at any age. Look at Rose and Scorpius. I think, objectively speaking, Moira, you and James appear to be a good fit. Similar outlooks, unafraid to speak your mind, orientation to practical things, neither of you is at all averse to hard work. You both look happy when the other is close by. That was plain last year. I want James to be happy. I will have a harmonious Potterdom. If I can't always control my feelings I can control my behavior."
Moira turned her head so she could look out at the moon. She lay there pondering the night sky the way she did on the boat when the weather was agreeable.
"Our mothers seem to get along," Moira finally said.
"They do," said Iolanthe. "Mother goes on about Agnes this, Agnes that."
"I'll do my best," Moira said.
"That will have to be good enough, for now," said Iolanthe, then, "G'night."
From the morning following their first overnight in the tower room at the Black estate Moira and Iolanthe worked to develop a non-hostile atmosphere around the two of them. Moira tried to find something nice to say to James about Iolanthe at least once a day. It could be fairly late before she found her nice news item, but she found one on most days.
Tracey and Daphne would be busy on Saturday with elves and checklists until the first guests were expected, usually between ten-thirty and eleven. Blacks would then arrive in a steady stream until the buffet commenced at one. Right after breakfast, Tracey held a little drill for greeters and pullers, i.e., the Hogwarts contingent, just so everyone knew how that worked. Free time was limited, but Iolanthe estimated they had around ninety minutes to do a truncated strolling of the closest lane to the house. Zelda elected to stay and work with Tracey so she would be there when Rose arrived. That left Scorpius, James and Moira to make up Iolanthe's patrol.
"I suggest this way, down to the T and back," said Iolanthe, "Everyone agree it is five before nine?"
"If you say it is five before nine," said Scorpius, "It's five before nine."
"Thirty minutes out, thirty minutes back and we're inside with thirty minutes to get ready to go to work for Tracey," Iolanthe said.
"Agreed," said James.
Moira fell in with Iolanthe on purpose, leaving James and Scorpius to walk and talk a few paces behind. Moira asked how Iolanthe liked working in the hospital ward and let her carry the conversation from that point forward.
Iolanthe called it perfectly and at ten-twenty she and Moira were descending the main stairs. Fleur and Bill had arrived and Fleur had taken up her now-traditional position at the front door prepared to meet and greet. Kendra saw Iolanthe coming down and strode to the stairs to sweep the birthday girl into a long embrace.
Iolanthe hugged back while Kendra ran through a synopsis of Iolanthe's life up to that point, starting from Daphne naming her Iolanthe Astoria at the fairies' prompting through her birth at Greengrass Manor, speaking parseltongue when she was only three days old, taming dragons, and now here she was, sixteen already! And a Slytherin! A sixteen-year-old Slytherin beauty! She showered blessings! She WAS a blessing!
"Thank-you, Grandmother, thank-you, thank-you," Iolanthe said, over and over as Kendra wished her Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas. Kendra moved on to Scorpius, their distinguished scholar who published his first book at fifteen and was already immersed in more research which he would have to sit down and tell Kendra all about.
"Thank-you, Grandmother Kendra, thank-you, thank-you…" Scorpius said as if quoting Iolanthe.
James took his turn next, listening to Kendra's recitation of his accomplishments and thanking her like the others.
Moira didn't get quite the level of froth the others did but neither did Kendra leave her out. Her hug wasn't as tight or as long but Kendra was obviously delighted to see her. Kendra stepped back and looked Moira up and down, rust-red hair to crimson velvet slippers.
"Working?" Kendra asked, meaning was Moira doing some regular rune-practice.
Moira reached into a side pocket in her skirt and pulled out a little drawstring bag.
"Wonderful," said Kendra, a simple statement of fact. "I'll need you a little later on. After everyone's been invited to get something to eat. I'll let you know."
Moira watched Iolanthe take a couple off Fleur's hands, arrange for an elf to handle their cloaks and lead them to where Harry and Daphne stood, an informal receiving line taking and dispensing compliments of the season. Moira took the next couple from Fleur, thought she recognized a bit of an accent and tried dropping an Old Norse seasonal greeting that still hung on in little pockets in the isles and was delighted when they made the appropriate response. This led to reciprocal social niceties ending only when she handed the couple off to Harry and Daphne.
The initial crush of arrivals passed and soon it was one o'clock and Tracey was ringing for attention. Harry made appropriate welcoming remarks, wished Iolanthe a happy sixteenth birthday, and asked her to open the festivities. Iolanthe thanked everyone for coming and for the many birthday blessings and declared the buffet to be open.
Kendra, sitting on a sofa next to Hermione, caught Moira's eye and motioned her over.
"Let's send a wizard for the food and we'll sit here so we're available," Kendra said. "Hermione and I can make sure you're properly introduced that way."
Kendra waved James over and asked him if he could pass by the buffet and bring them some nibbles.
Moira wasn't sure what Kendra meant but she thought if she were patient eventually she would find out. Hermione moved over so Moira could sit between them. Kendra had Melon put two little nesting tables near the sofa so the rune-witches would have someplace for their plates. Before long a Black cousin came over and knelt in front of Hermione.
"Lady Hermione," said the witch as she took Hermione's offered hand.
"Cassandra," said Hermione. "Merry Christmas, Sister! How are the children?"
Hermione held Cassandra's hand while the two went through short exchanges about children, an impending engagement, and a new position at work. Hermione squeezed Cassandra's shoulder with her free hand, letting her go so she could move over to Kendra.
"Cassandra, Merry Christmas!" Kendra said. "May I have the honor to introduce another rune-witch of our acquaintance? This is Moira Turley, a friend of my grandson, James. She's from the Isle of St. Magnus."
Cassandra looked at Moira, then took her hand and brought it to her lips.
"Miss Moira, blessings, so honored to meet you," said Cassandra, inclining her head. Kendra made just the slightest pantomime of a head pat and nodded at Moira.
"The honor is mine, Madame Cassandra," said Moira, improvising as she laid her hand on top of Cassandra's head. "Merry Christmas, and blessings throughout the year."
Kendra ended Cassandra's moment with a squeeze and a couple of pats to her shoulder. Cassandra rose and gave all three rune-witches little inclinations of her head and shoulders before rejoining the party.
Hermione was focused on Kendra, who gave her a little nod.
"That was perfect, Moira," said Hermione, her voice very low and meant just for Moira. "That will mean so much to Cassandra. She lost both of her parents, very close together a little over a year ago and is still mourning. A little bit of light dispels a great deal of darkness."
The ritual greetings continued until all of the rune-witches present had paid respects. Moira did not know any of them other than Hermione and Kendra but they all felt familiar to her, as if they'd shared a fleeting moment long before and were just getting re-acquainted.
Hermione took charge of Moira at some subtle signal from Kendra and steered her back to the scrum of guests.
"Mother Kendra may need to see some people alone, so we'll circulate," said Hermione. They took up a position near the tree and Hermione faced the crowd.
"Just stand here by me," Hermione said. "We'll be available if anyone wants to talk."
Two witches walked up and did want to talk. One leaned in and whispered in Hermione's ear. Hermione nodded.
"I'll just have a word with Kendra," Hermione said. "Would you stay here and chat these witches up? I predict they'll want to learn all about you."
Moira didn't have a response but she did as Hermione asked. The two witches actually giggled at Hermione's comment.
"You're from the Isle of St. Magnus?" one said.
"And you've come all this way for us!" said her companion. "I'd say that is a good sign."
"Oh, most certainly!" said the first witch. "Beautiful witch, beautiful dress. What a Christmas!"
Moira kept her attention on the two witches while trying to use her peripheral vision to monitor Hermione and Kendra. Kendra rose and went around a corner as Hermione rejoined the group.
"Thank-you, Moira," she said, "Be right back."
Moira watched as Hermione conducted the two witches around the corner in the same direction as Kendra.
"They need to chat. There's a little study they can use, right around the corner," said Hermione when she returned. "That's pretty much all the rune-witch business, unless something else comes up. Got any questions?"
"One or two," said Moira.
Hermione found that hilarious. When she recovered she suggested it was time for some punch, or tea, if Moira preferred.
"You have very advanced knowledge of runes," Hermione began. "When Kendra and I worked with you at your home we both saw the same things. You're skilled, true, but your interpretation is deep. Nuanced. Runes are like stone masonry, carpentry, jewelry-making, a craft. For every one hundred competent craftspeople there are two, or three, or five who are such masters their work goes beyond. They advance the craft. History records their careers as turning points in the evolution of the field. We think you have that kind of potential. You'll need to study, and listen, and perhaps learn from a mistake or two along the way."
"I think I get it," Moira said, putting on her patient face and holding Hermione's eyes. "You were checking me out. I wasn't informed before. Why?"
Moira waited as she had with James. A lot would depend on Hermione's response.
"Anyone can learn to cast runes, but there is an informal sisterhood, a kind of lodge, of rune-witches," Hermione began. "For hundreds of years the rune-witches have done it this way. The sisters look to Kendra, Mother Kendra, for counsel. She occupies a special place. She is more skilled than most, but that is only part of it. She has suffered the most grievous losses imaginable, yet she carries on, leading without shouting, giving us an example to follow, kind words for all. She does not curse fate, although if anyone were more justified…It's anticipated I will succeed her."
That was how Hermione described her place in the sisterhood.
"It's anticipated I will succeed her."
"We've been expecting you," she continued.
Moira stood there, waiting.
"The runes."
Hermione looked back at Moira's steady gaze. Moira had her explanation. The runes. That was the explanation, that and the history of the rune-witches doing it just that way for hundreds of years. Take it or leave it, Hermione seemed to be saying. The finality was terrifying.
"Now they will assume…" Moira began but couldn't find the words to finish.
"Well, you've just met a few," said Hermione. "You don't have any formal duties, although, Merlin knows, word does tend to get around. If a witch unexpectedly shows you some deference or seems more than ordinarily pleased to make your acquaintance, you could just assume she's a rune-witch and turn on the graciousness. We've established that you are a natural, haven't we? If she isn't a rune-witch, you've just been extra-nice to someone that day, and there is never anything wrong with that."
Moira was still staring straight into Hermione's eyes, trying to plumb the dimensions of the scenario she'd just outlined.
"I need to think about this," said Moira.
"Of course you do," said Hermione. "We estimate you have plenty of time."
"How?"
"The runes," said Hermione. "Although, as you probably know, the runes become a little fuzzy the closer the subject is to the caster."
"Can I decline?" asked Moira.
Hermione didn't answer immediately.
"It's a call to service," Hermione said. "Of course you can decline. We can't arrest you on charges of refusing. You don't get anything for it, so no one has a claim to your time or skills. Just meeting you meant something to the rune-witches this afternoon. My understanding is you provide another form of service, a kind of helping profession, could one say?"
Moira flinched.
"How?"
Hermione's face lit up in a huge grin.
"Oh, witches, Moira. They'll always surprise you," Hermione said. "Do you like helping? When people have something stuck inside and it won't come unstuck and you help them with it and they begin to feel better?"
"Who?"
"No one, I assure you," Hermione said. "Lots and lots of work over decades. Lady Kendra and countless cups of tea and casting, casting, casting. If I hadn't become fascinated with runes I wouldn't have any reason to have known her all these years. That in itself is many times sufficient recompense for anything that has or will be asked of me."
Moira felt a great gale blowing inside her head. Thoughts would not hold still. Ideas were in collision. Even the roar of the gale was there. Merlin's beard! What kind of witch was Hermione, anyway? Was there anything she didn't know? Any one of Moira's thoughts she hadn't managed to probe?
"It's all the runes," Hermione said, answering Moira's unvoiced question. "Runes and empathy. I was flawed, did anyone ever tell you that? No empathy when I was young. My parents are muggles, both dentists. Heavy on the science, so that's how I was formed, as a youngster. At eleven I got my letter and it was off to Hogwarts, where I alienated nearly everyone except Ron and Harry, who managed to just tolerate me as long as I went along with their insatiable adventuring, did their research and remembered the right spell at critical moments. Then the violent climax to it all, and the post-Voldemort world, and I wondered what was the point? Ron asked me to marry him and became an auror. I went into the Department of Mysteries and planned to guard my anonymity and pore over dusty tomes. At home, I picked up my runes. Kendra found me and we worked together a few times, and she knew. 'I've been expecting you,' she said."
"Empathy?" Moira asked. "Did that come from the runes?"
Hermione's face fell.
"Empathy can be learned," said Hermione. "Kendra taught me, or showed me by example. I'm told I have enough now to be considered human."
Kendra walked over and made them three.
"So, Moira, has Hermione got you thoroughly confused?" Kendra asked.
"It's a lot to take in," said Moira. "On the whole, she explained it very well. I'm not sure I can understand everything. That's not her fault, though."
"Don't worry about it for now," said Kendra. "It's Black Christmas! Wassail! Beautiful green and red dresses from Madame Malkin!"
Hermione's face lit up.
"We all need a party now and then," she said.
Turning to Moira, Kendra said, "What did I hear about Iolanthe loading up her schedule with healing? She isn't going to become one of those academic grinds, is she?"
"Those people are so tedious," said Hermione, relishing the irony.
"I don't know when I first heard," Moira said, "I suppose James knew early on."
"Oh-oh," said Hermione. "James will have to be spoken to, Gran."
"What?" said James who'd been close enough to hear the exchange.
"Iolanthe is working with Madame Pomfrey," said Kendra. "I hadn't heard. Perhaps you had and didn't think it a worthy news item."
James spotted Iolanthe across the room and motioned her over, sliding aside to give her space.
"Iolanthe, we've been here gossiping about your private business," James began, "And we wanted to know if we're going to have another healer in the family?"
"Gosh," said Iolanthe, "A witch wants to do a little career exploration and her life becomes an open book. That's totally unexpected."
"Well?" said James.
"It's my first term with Madame Pomfrey," said Iolanthe. "There is a long course of study. It really is too early to say, but I do like it so far."
Daphne arrived.
"What is this clump of witches doing here?" she wanted to know, adding, "And wizard."
Everyone looked at Iolanthe. 'Up to you,' they all seemed to be saying.
"I added a class, Mother," said Iolanthe. "First Term Healing Practical, just a few periods a week. Cleaning up the bodily fluids and drawing lines on parchments for Matron's case notes. You know the drill."
"I do, so very well," said Daphne. "But why didn't you send me an owl? Does Harry know?"
"It was something I did just to get familiar, on a trial basis," Iolanthe said. "I asked Madame Pomfrey to keep it to herself. She knows, Auntie Millicent and Professor McGonagall."
"And we let the cat out of the bag," said Kendra.
"That's alright," Iolanthe said, "I was looking for an opportunity to take Mother aside and tell her."
Daphne took Iolanthe's arm and turned her away from the group. Kendra smiled at her circle. Daphne got Iolanthe around the corner.
"I won't put you on the spot in front of everyone, but what do you think so far?" asked Daphne.
"I think I was born to do it," said Iolanthe.
Daphne's eyes welled up.
"Oh, Iolanthe," was a far as she got.
"But it's still early on," cautioned Iolanthe.
"I know, I know," said Daphne, then, "Believe me I KNOW! But you have the soul of a scientist, and a healer. At least I have always felt it. All of that observation of nature and ferocious compassion inside you."
"That isn't exactly scientific," said Iolanthe.
"No, dear, that's the magic," said Daphne. "I guess we're going to have to build in some consultation time on a regular basis."
"That would be wonderful, Mother," Iolanthe said. "You owe Madame Pomfrey a visit, I'm told. How about some wassail?"
"Join me in a toast?" asked Daphne.
"Of course," said Iolanthe. "To Hippocrates?"
"Mm-hmm," Daphne said, "Among others."
With just a few exceptions the Black Hogwarts delegation was scheduled to return via the Three Broomsticks starting at four in the afternoon. Millicent Bulstrode would again take the roll and get the group organized for the walk from Hogsmeade to the castle. Iolanthe found Moira sometime after three and informed her it was time to collect their fellows and take leave.
Moira didn't know what Iolanthe meant but she went along to assist in the collection. She later said taking their leave was one of the most fun and interesting things she did over her two days in Cornwall. Harry and Daphne led Millicent and the Hogwarts Blacks from room to room, greeting the portraits of long-dead distinguished Blacks, toasting the Black family and wishing everyone Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Some of the portraits were surprisingly well-informed, asking about parents, classes, and family news. Newcomers, including Moira, were introduced to the portraits and welcomed to the ever-expanding great circle of Blacks.
The travelers went by floo to the Three Broomsticks and Millicent tried again to treat them to drinks. As she had done before, Madame Rosmerta pre-empted Millicent and refused to take her money, thanking the Blacks for the show of appreciation signified by their use of her pub as their meeting place.
There wasn't any snow on the ground, even though it was December, so the trek to the castle under the lightshow in the sky did not have the otherworldly quality a white blanket conferred. Even so, the Milky Way displayed itself and its wonders, the gaudiness and implacability equally insistent on claiming their share of the Blacks' attention.
Moira and James found themselves paired up for the walk back, although neither was aware there was any implicit design at work. The Blacks' feet trod frozen grass on the edges of the track, setting up a crunch-crunch-crunch of polyrhythmic cadence beneath the hushed conversations of walking partners.
James had taken Moira's little sea bag and was carrying it on his left shoulder. Moira enjoyed walking next to James. She decided it was time to let him know that. Her left hand found his right in the darkness and held on. She noticed his callouses right away. Something about them shot from her hand and up her arm to connect with a place deep inside and Moira felt heat radiating out, displacing the December cold.
Iolanthe and Scorpius were walking behind James and Moira and Iolanthe noticed the joined hands. Iolanthe looked over at Scorpius.
"Cute," she seemed to indicate. Scorpius needed a distraction before laughter spoiled James and Moira's moment.
"Look at Polaris," he said, "Like you could reach out and touch it."