Wheels Within Wheels
Iolanthe
Chapter Sixty
Consensus, of a Sort
After the war, Flora and Hestia adopted a very low profile in the magical community. They hadn't been charged with any crimes or inappropriate dabbling in dark magic, but they were Carrows. Being a Carrow in the aftermath was suspicious all by itself. A half generation of British wizardry suffered mistreatment by Carrow methods at Hogwarts, and several times that would have to be born and grow up before the stain faded.
The twins' choice of housing was a result of their deliberate approach to distancing themselves from magical society. The detached house and garage in the Surrey suburb next door to Little Whinging was a calculated choice. They had even learned to drive a car and acquired a faded Opel they parked in the drive.
They attended their local Anglican church, where Flora directed the choir. Hestia was a checker at a nearby supermarket. As long as exchange rates were stable, they didn't really need jobs. Some family money, invested wisely, was sufficient for their upkeep, as long as they didn't dip into capital. Their jobs didn't pay a lot, but they took them to be seen in the community. When Hester left for Hogwarts the twins told the neighbors she was going to their old school, the location for which they deliberately left a little vague.
When asked where it was, they'd just say, "Scotland," and leave it at that.
Just before Christmas the Carrows invited the Potters to dinner, requesting they come by floo rather than apparating or using a port key. Their careful construction of an apparently muggle life in a muggle suburb wouldn't be well-served by the sudden appearance of a family of six on the tiny front lawn. The Potters divided into pairs and traveled as three units. One neighbor noticed green flames shooting just above the top of the Carrows' chimney. He telephoned to make sure everything was under control and seemed satisfied when Flora told him they were using a chimney cleaning treatment, but thanks for checking.
Hester took James and Iolanthe in hand for a tour of the house and back yard, while Flora and Hestia ushered Harry, Daphne, Evans and Davis into the lounge. Harry looked around at the rooms, seeing familiar dimensions and traffic flow. He didn't feel nostalgia, but neither did he sense gloom, doom or post traumatic stress.
Harry had made mental adjustments to accept his childhood for what it was. The years from the attack in Godric's Hollow until he departed for Hogwarts were something he went through to learn the world was unjust, and to cultivate his capacity for empathy so he did not add to the sorry human ranks of abused growing into abusers. At Hogwarts he learned the value of friendship, of allies, and of mentors, and the value he could add to lives as a friend, ally and mentor. Together, the time he'd spent in Little Whinging was as much of an education as school and his training with the aurors.
Harry hoped Hester's years in Surrey were more pleasant than his had been. Flora and Hestia might be odd, even for witches, but they didn't exhibit the pure orneriness the Dursleys had heaped on Harry.
"Something to drink?" Hestia asked, standing up.
"Anything, whatever you have," Harry said. "Nothing too strong."
"Mineral water?" asked Daphne.
"Thank-you for coming," Flora said while Hestia busied herself in the kitchen. "Hester suggested this. I think she wanted to return your hospitality."
The younger folks' tour of the house and garden had reached the patio. In addition to the gas grille the Carrows had a table and chair set for pleasant weather. It wasn't exactly pleasant outside, but Hester asked if her guests would like to sit.
"Sure," said Iolanthe, "Thanks."
She drew her wand.
"Might as well be comfortable," she said, silently casting a warming charm before slipping the wand back into her sleeve.
"Mmm…" said Hester, "Thanks. What's it like being seventeen?"
"It does decomplicate a lot, I'll admit," said Iolanthe. "What has it been like being you?"
"Before, or just recently?" asked Hester.
"I kind of wondered about both," Iolanthe told her, looking around at the nearby houses she could just see beyond the hedges.
"Odd, I'd say," Hester said. "Mum and Aunt Flora weren't intimidated when kid magic happened around me, but I think growing up might have been a bit like being muggle-born. They tried to blend in with the surroundings. I didn't know what Carrow meant in the magical world until Hogwarts. If I'd been them I might have done the same."
"That's not you, though," said James. "We can't re-live the last generation's lives. You're not even a Slytherin."
"Thank-you, James Greengrass," said Iolanthe.
"Now, I didn't mean…" James tried.
Iolanthe looked at Hester and gave her a quick half-smile.
"Did you have friends in the neighborhood?" Iolanthe asked.
"A few," said Hester. "I was able to go to the local primary. Mum and Aunt Flora worked with me so I could control my temper. No one got accidentally cursed. There is a magical couple a few streets over, although they don't have children. We'd socialize with them two or three times a year. It's a very conventional neighborhood. No one claiming second sight or doing Tarot readings for friends, so the people here aren't convinced they're seeing witches everywhere they look. Mum and Flora did a good job being low-key suburban householders for a long time. It worked up until this year. Then we all started to get our adult faces."
Something about that got through to everyone.
"Couldn't be helped," said James. "What's next for you?"
Hester's face fell. She looked genuinely troubled.
"I don't know," she said. "Was there any gossip after I left? I wonder how many people at school know?"
"Good question," said Iolanthe. "I didn't hear anything."
"If anyone was guessing, I didn't hear it," James said. "Now that the three of us know, we can talk."
"I know James is already a grower," Hester said, "And you're working with Madame Pomfrey. Any particular area you're drawn to?"
"Not yet," said Iolanthe. "You?"
"Professional quidditch, if I can catch on with a team," Hester said. "I know I could teach flying but there are so few positions."
"Yes, that's a Potter trait," James said.
Hestia Carrow opened the back door and leaned out.
"Are you ready to join us or will you be dining out here?" she asked.
Hester showed James and Iolanthe where to wash up before going upstairs to her own bathroom. The house wasn't big enough to require directions to the dining room. By the time Hester, Iolanthe and James returned, dinner was on the table.
"We have an excellent fishmonger, a little family-run place. This fish had just come in this morning," Hestia was saying as everyone got settled. "I cut and fried the chips. They had the pea pods at work."
Hestia picked up the platter of fried cod and held it so Daphne could take some.
"Thank-you, Hestia," Daphne said. "What are your plans for break, Hester?"
"I have my books," Hester said, "They gave us some homework to do. Not too much."
"Perhaps the witches could get together for lunch before you go back," Daphne suggested.
That night, the Potters returned to Potter Manor with a week's worth of pent-up conversation. Flora and Hestia's adoption of muggle protective coloration was at the center of it all. Everyone agreed they had done well, subduing their magic enough to avoid attention. The Carrows had once had an ancient house elf. They had granted her retirement and arranged for her to live with her daughter who served another magical family. After that they had maintained their home on their own, locking the exterior doors and pulling down the window shades every Saturday for a few hours of magical housekeeping.
The Carrows had woven similar blends of magical and mundane through the fabric of their lives. They had been very successful in staying out of sight in the magical world, raising Hester in obscurity until it was time for her to begin her studies at Hogwarts. Life might have followed that pattern indefinitely but for James' presence in her year.
The twins were tucked in when Iolanthe joined Daphne in the library-gallery that evening for some consultations.
"They seem like nice people," Iolanthe began. Daphne closed her journal, her finger inserted to stay with the article she'd been reading.
"I was just wondering what you thought we should do when we go back to school."
Daphne looked at Iolanthe. She knew her daughter. Iolanthe's store of empathy was boundless. She would want to protect Hester from barbs, arrows and insensitive boors. Iolanthe wanted to protect everything, possibly excepting Jacques Lafleur, the Potter family pig. Daphne had no doubt Iolanthe was asking how she was supposed to minimize any hurt that might be waiting to ambush Hester.
"You'd like to see Hester transition from anonymous Ravenclaw to recognized Potter, or Potter associate, with minimum comment from back benchers?" asked Daphne.
"Exactly."
"I'm not sure that is possible," Daphne said. "Just being a daughter of Harry Potter, coming to light after all these years, Hester is going to be newsworthy. The temptation will be to form square and defend the colors. In this case our ideas may be fine, for us, but what about Hester? How do we know she wants to be defended? We don't even know if she wants to do more than trade invitations to dinner once or twice a year."
"Hmm…" Iolanthe said, staring into the fireplace.
"We can't assume we know what Hester, or Hestia, for that matter, is thinking or feeling right now. This is new to all of us," Daphne concluded.
"Father wants to get to know her," Iolanthe said. "He'll want to make her a Potter. He is holding it in, but I can tell."
"Oh, he is bending over backwards trying to do the right thing, as he sees it," Daphne agreed. "He just naturally assumes that means Flora and Hestia adjusting to the idea that Hester become our protectee. Not adjusting, I should have said embracing. The fact is those two are highly capable, independent witches who worked hard to do a very particular thing—make lives for themselves completely outside of what you and I think of as magical society. I can understand why they did it. I can also detect some fear in them. All of their work could be completely undone by this. They could lose everything, if the story of our connection takes on a life of its own."
Iolanthe held the Odyssey, stroking the leather spine as she studied the flames.
"What's the story on the Carrows, anyway?" Iolanthe asked. "Why go to all that trouble? Do they just prefer muggle life? They don't seem to be afraid of magic."
"Oh, I don't think they're afraid of magic at all," Daphne said. "You weren't around, of course, but in our seventh year two Carrows held faculty appointments at Hogwarts. They were devotees of that abomination Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. Lots of students were badly mistreated by those Carrows. Flora and Hestia just withdrew themselves from society. Magical society, that is. They kept a low profile and spent most of their time appearing to be a pair of muggle sisters."
"I'd heard of the two from back then," Iolanthe said. "No one seems to connect Hester with them. It's not like there's a shortage of infamy attached to some of the clans. Walter Goyle is a Slytherin. He's not evil, although I have heard Harry Potter clashed with a forebear or cousin or something."
"Very astute, Iolanthe," said Daphne. "I'm a Davis, of course, through Mother, and that family could have gotten itself wiped out if they'd been unlucky enough to become Death Eaters. Even today some of the ones on the fringe wouldn't shake hands with your father, if you can imagine that. He kept them out of Azkaban. How is that for gratitude?"
"I take your point," Iolanthe said. "They will have to take the lead, won't they? Where did you want to go to lunch?"
"I was thinking you could invite Hester," Daphne said. "If they accept, I'll suggest Flora and Hestia and I join in and make it a little bigger party. If we ask open-ended questions and let them talk while we listen carefully, we might become a little clearer on what they'd like to do. Remember, all Hestia asked, originally, was that we answer Hester's questions about her origins. That's done, now. Maybe that is as far as they are willing to go."
Iolanthe nodded.
"So, where?" she asked.
"Oh, I think Morgan's, don't you?" Daphne said. "Lunch in the restaurant, tea and dessert in the witches' lounge?"
"Very low-profile, Mother," said Iolanthe. "Ingenious, really."
Both of them turned their attention back to their reading.
The lunch scenario worked exactly as Daphne had outlined it to Iolanthe in the gallery at Potter Manor. Once Hester had accepted the invitation from Iolanthe, Daphne was able to expand the party to include herself and the two Carrows.
Iolanthe and Hester went ahead to Morgan le Fay's. It was Hester's first visit so she got the full Madame Ba welcoming treatment. A table was ready with a view to the south, so a search for Hester's town made for lots of passing-the-time conversation.
"I don't get it," Hester said, "We're up here, with this view, but we're not?"
"As I understand it, yes," said Iolanthe. "Starting from the lobby, you could climb all the way to the top of the building and this floor and the one just above would not present themselves, but if we come via the floo, we just pop out there with Madame Ba and she treats us like royalty. I rather like the mystery, to be honest."
Madame Ba arrived with the rest of the party and stood while some wait staff appeared and got the Carrows seated. Daphne took care of herself, not wishing to prolong the exercise.
"The rocket salad with cheese curds is indescribably delicious today," Madame Ba began, "But for those with such tastes the cold pheasant platter has earned some compliments, roast beef on a Kaiser roll is a perennial favorite, and the house-made fresh spaghetti comes with your choice of a meatless tomato sauce with garden vegetables or an alfredo sauce with chicken. We'll give you a minute or two to mull it over."
The witches divided evenly over the salad and the vegetarian spaghetti dish until Hester ordered the pheasant.
"I've heard of this place," Hestia said, "Doesn't Blaise Zabini have something to do with it?"
"Blaise and Oliver Wood organized it," said Daphne. "It's a club. They just wanted a place they could count on to have seats at lunchtime. You know how the Leaky Cauldron gets."
"Are you gossiping about my Dad, Daphne?"
Daphne turned around and saw a great crimson and gold silk scarf worn as a shawl over a pair of fairly broad shoulders. It had the look of the scarves Tracey favored, from one of the better-known French houses. She looked up into Zelda's beaming smile. Zelda wrapped her arms around Daphne's neck and pulled her close.
"Better than not being talked about," said Daphne purloining a bit of Wilde.
"Iolanthe," Zelda said as she let Daphne go. "Hester."
The two seekers looked at one another.
"Zelda," said Hester, adding a slight nod.
Tracey walked up behind Zelda.
"Lunch?" Daphne asked.
"Business lunch," said Tracey. "March will be here shortly. Someone heard there is an equinox coming, wants to talk about doing something. We took one of the smaller rooms. Right Zelda?"
"Um-hmm…" Zelda said. "Very conducive to making a deal."
Tracey took off for the stairs. Zelda and Hester shared one more, very slight inclination of their heads. They'd be more cordial once quidditch season was over.
Everyone agreed the food was excellent, as it always was at Morgan le Fay's. When the wait staff came to clear the table, Daphne rose and led the way to the lounge Blaise had told Harry about on Harry's first visit.
The witches' lounge was not an official designation. No plaques announced 'Witches Only' or made any other reference to gender distinctions. It was as Blaise had said—right from the beginning, the witches had predominated in the space just as wizards did in the paneled reading room. As time passed the arrangement gelled into custom so that now the witches had a place to go where they could talk about whatever they wanted, in whatever terms they chose to employ, without concern for wizard sensitivities.
"I hope you like fruitcake," Daphne said when they'd taken their seats. She was still pouring tea when the staff arrived with a large tray holding five small plates for slices of fruitcake, a bottle of brandy, and a small bowl of a yellow lemon sauce.
"Let's sit back," Daphne advised as the server got ready to perform the ritual brandy-soaking and lighting.
"Uh, I don't drink," Hester said.
"Neither do I," Iolanthe assured her. "The alcohol is all burned off, in theory."
Hester thought about it, declining brandy in the end, in favor of a serious topping of lemon sauce.
Daphne and Iolanthe stuck to their script throughout lunch, dessert and tea. Their purpose was always to learn from the Carrows what it was the Carrows wanted to do. There weren't any surprises, surprisingly enough. Iolanthe and Daphne had covered everything during the conversation in the library/gallery. The Carrow twins had carefully curated a quiet life for themselves and Hester, using magic among family and conventional artifacts of modern mundane life when muggles were about. Had Hester not shown magical ability and received her Hogwarts letter they could have lived out their lives as ordinary Surrey householders with none the wiser.
As it was, the proximity of James and Hester at Hogwarts guaranteed they would be noticed, once the family resemblance began to emerge. Now it appeared the Carrow twins were suspended in a kind of stasis between those two points, over a chasm of unknown eventualities. They didn't make any demands or requests of the Potters. Flora and Hestia were actually happy for Hester, particularly her success at quidditch. Hester loved flying and competition, and she was quite happy being a witch. The twins' concern was that she would be hurt by small-minded comments about her origins. Being a Carrow caused her no social problems. The Potter connection, now too obvious not to acknowledge, might be the thing that tipped the balance.
"What's the name of that Channel Isle you went to see?" Iolanthe asked Daphne when they were alone again at Potter Manor.
"The magical one?" Daphne asked. "St. Guinefort?"
"That's it," said Iolanthe. "I'd like to invite Hester on an outing. Not at anyone's house, or club. If her mother would allow it, I'd take her to St. Guinefort. We'd stroll around being a couple of tourist witches, breathe sea air, I'd buy her some fish and chips, and we'd come home. I'm at a loss for what to do. I don't even know if I'm supposed to acknowledge her. We're going to be going back to school. I'll do whatever she wants, if I know what it is."
Daphne considered Iolanthe's proposal. Whether it succeeded or failed, her daughter's approach showed thought and originality. It might work. If it didn't, so what? None of them would be any more in the dark about the Carrows' wishes than they were at present.
"Did you talk about Christmas?" Iolanthe asked.
The Potters had touched on Christmas, briefly, but inconclusively. If the Potter children gave Hester something, she might feel obligated to reciprocate. Time was short and there were four Potters. It was another decision best held in abeyance pending additional information.
"No more than before," said Daphne. "Ideas?"
"The day trip to St. Guinefort, by port key," Iolanthe said. "My treat. If we're just sightseeing there's no reason for Hester to feel obligated."
Daphne thought that an excellent idea, and raised it with Harry. Also enthusiastic, Harry made a surreptitious scouting trip of his own, just to walk the streets and get a fresh feel for the place. He was also drawing on his auror senses, looking for cues that this or that storefront had an air of vice or corruption and was no place for young ladies to be stopping for coffee. When he returned to Potter Manor and told Daphne about his reconnaissance, she thought it was a bit overdone, but still very, very sweet of him.
The logistics for the trip to St. Guinefort were simple. Hester came to Potter Manor by floo, then she and Iolanthe went to St. Guinefort with the port key, a cane of osage orange with a hefty silver handle. They landed in the same area on the edge of the town that Harry and Daphne had used. Iolanthe took a minute to look around.
"We've got the port key with us, so all we have to do is be together when it activates," Iolanthe said. She pulled out the tourist booklet Harry had given her and turned to the map page.
"We're here, there's the town, that's north, that way is south. Let's go see what St. Guinefort has to offer."
"Merry Christmas, a little late," added Iolanthe. "The weather ought to be better than at home. It's all managed with enchantments."
"Oh, thank-you!" said Hester. "I didn't realize…I don't have anything for you. Wish you'd said something."
"Having you here is your present to me," Iolanthe said. "Mother and Father came over here for lunch once, and I've been trying to find a way to come see it for myself since. Change of subject: How's your French?"
"Ah…Merry Christmas to you, too, then, and thank-you for picking me," said Hester. "My French is basic. Un peu, seulement."
"The local population is supposed to be almost one hundred percent bilingual," Iolanthe said, adding as an afterthought: "If you want to practice."
They walked down the track, Iolanthe flipping the cane out ahead of them, getting into her rambling gait. She tried to remember to pay attention to Hester, but Hester didn't appear to be having difficulty keeping up, so Iolanthe settled in and enjoyed the walk to town.
St. Guinefort was still decorated for Christmas, with greetings in French and English and a few more European languages here and there. The one Chinese restaurant was draped in great crimson banners offering greetings in golden characters. Up ahead Iolanthe saw the sign for Le Coq Blanc.
"I've heard of that one," she said to Hester. "Mother and Father had lunch there. What do you think the owner's name is?"
Hester thought it over.
"Monsieur Henri," she said.
"Mais oui," said Iolanthe.
"Perfect," said Hester.
"We don't have to eat there," said Iolanthe. "I'd thought they probably have perfect fish and chips somewhere in town, so I'm going to keep my eyes open, but if we don't find someplace we want to go, we can always come back."
"What exactly did you want to do, Iolanthe?" Hester asked. "Seriously."
"I take it you mean besides tourism," said Iolanthe.
"Uh-huh," Hester said. "You aren't obligated to do anything for me, or include me in your Potter activities, or treat me as anything in particular. I'll be grateful if you don't start calling me your bastard Carrow sister, but I don't have control over that."
"Oh, sweetie," Iolanthe said, her tone genuinely mournful. "Don't ever say that, ever, or think it to yourself. Where did you get the idea…"
Hester stared straight ahead.
Iolanthe tried a different approach, seeking to depersonalize a bit because Hester clearly had some tender spots that needed proper deference.
"We'll be heading back to Hogwarts in a few days," she said. "I don't have to tell you everything has changed with us since you got your mother to tell you about…"
Iolanthe caught herself.
"Since you learned the whole story of your parents."
That wasn't quite right, either, but it had a better finish than the sentence she'd begun.
"How do you want me to act, when we're back at school?" asked Iolanthe. "Nice? Neutral? With feigned ignorance of our relationship?"
"I don't know," said Hester, a little pain and confusion coming through. "I don't have any experience with this."
Iolanthe couldn't help it. She broke out laughing, and Hester joined in.
"Who does?" Iolanthe asked.
"I know!" said Hester. "I have a famous father. I just found out. Whoopeee!"
"We're all in this together," Iolanthe said as she struggled to stifle the laughs. "There's no getting out, as far as I can tell. Your mother and aunt did a wonderful job raising you and providing for you, it appears. If it's a slightly unconventional family it's still a good one. They won't want us trying to take you away, and I agree, completely. On the other hand, we can't just ignore you. Even if we wanted to. You and James have three more years of school. It's better if we have a joint approach."
They walked along, stopping to look at the shop windows, some of which were completely seasonal, others announcing Boxing Day sales, still others hosting imaginative displays of the goods sold within the shop.
At some point Hester reached under Iolanthe's arm and linked up. Their pace slowed and they fell into a conversation with no particular subject. They could come back to their discussion some other time. Hester had known her whole life that Daphne and Tracey had been housemates of her mother and aunt. Like many young witches she thought Tracey Davis was the epitome of witchy beauty and style. She was also acknowledged to be the premier magical event organizer in Europe. Naturally, Hester wanted to know what it was like growing up around Tracey Davis.
Iolanthe said it seemed normal, since she had known Tracey forever. It wasn't until just a year or two past that she had suddenly realized people paid Tracey to come do their parties and receptions. There appeared to be a natural division of labor when she was growing up. Harry went to work at the ministry, Mother went to work at St. Mungo's, and Tracey planned their social life. She also coached Iolanthe on hair, nails, colors and social niceties. She made writing little notes fun. Iolanthe still liked sitting down with cards and envelopes and dispatching warm messages of thanks and good wishes.
"Wow," Hester said. "Do you think she'd let me…"
"Sit in?" Iolanthe asked. "Of course. You'd be welcome any time. Tracey loves mentoring. She loves beautiful things. I honestly think she conceives of her purpose in life, after Zelda, to be going around beautifying the world to the extent she can in the time she's been given. Make sure your mother is okay with it, though? Don't want to step on toes."
Hester smiled at Tracey's description, as related by Iolanthe.
"What was it like for you?" Iolanthe asked. "Growing up? Did you have magical family you went to see on holidays?"
"Not much," Hester replied. "I must have always known my mother and aunt were witches. At least, it's not clear when I learned, so it must have been very early on. Family was mostly them. I've met people who were vaguely related, somehow, but it wasn't clear how we all fit together."
"You don't think there were relatives who kept their distance because of…"
Iolanthe's mind caught up to her mouth.
"Oh, I am sorry, Hester, that was uncalled-for."
"What, because they knew about my origins? Who it was, how I came about?" Hester asked.
"Well, yeah," said Iolanthe. "I don't know a lot about the Carrows but I know there were some on the other side. I can guess they didn't all come out of the war fit as fiddles. There's some bitterness in Mother's family, too."
Hester was brought up short.
"What? The Greengrasses?" she asked, now totally confused. "Weren't they neutral?"
"No, the Davises," said Iolanthe. "They most certainly weren't. Grandmother Kendra knew better. She'd have been disowned but she was already married to Grandfather and gone from the house. Great-grandmother Davis didn't start warming up to Father until James and I came along. Now she thinks Evans and Davis are the most wonderful children ever, except for Zelda, and Scorpius."
Hester walked on, window-shopping and mulling Iolanthe's biographical notes.
"I have a lot to learn," Hester said. "Does that look like a fish and chips shop to you?"
Hester pointed up ahead to a sign with a fish painted on it.
"Either that or a fish market," Iolanthe said. "Let's see."
They were in luck. The odor of hot oil came out the door to meet them in the street. Inside they found a counter where the proprietor took orders and rang up sales. There were tall round-topped tables where customers could stand and counters along the walls made from simple planks. The counters were supplied with tall stools, napkin dispensers and bottles of ketchup and vinegar. Iolanthe and Hester waited for their orders, which they immediately took outside. Iolanthe cast a little cleaning charm at the table top and two chairs.
"Whoo," she said. "Just a bit fetid inside there."
"There are freshening charms," Hester added. "I've heard."
Iolanthe pinched off a chunk of fish and popped it in her mouth.
"Ohhh…" she said. "I know what my Christmas season has been missing. Not comparing to your mother's of course but there is something about a good fry-up from a proper shop."
Hester nodded as she took in a good bundle of pommes frites.
"Where are we, exactly?" Hester asked.
"It's an island, out in the Channel," Iolanthe explained. "It is all magical. It's unplottable and there is a perpetual fog bank around it."
"I love it," said Hester. "I've got to tell Mum. Maybe I can get her to come back, with Aunt Flora. What do people do here?"
"I'm not exactly sure," Iolanthe said. "Mother and Father were here once, like I said, and I heard about it from them, and always wanted to come and see it. My need for a Christmas present for you intersected with a desire to see St. Guinefort. There are beaches on the north and south shores. Rocky places, too, but enough sand to qualify. You came along and gave me my justification for coming over. My understanding is they host magical tourists. Father has talked about bringing everyone for a getaway, but my understanding is we would have to completely take over one of the guest houses. Maybe it's possible, I don't know."
"This has been fun," said Hester. "Mum and Aunt Flora took me to Dover and some other places, to see the natural wonders. We went to Bath once. I was a little too young, I think. The Romans. It felt like they were there. I can't explain it."
"I know what you mean," said Iolanthe. "You can sense the old magic. We aren't at home in it. It gives everything a kind of in-between feel. I get it in museums. Mother and Grandmother do too.
"Clean-up?"
Hester dropped her napkin and held out her hands for Iolanthe's cleaning charm. Iolanthe did her own hands and put her wand back inside her sleeve. She stood and picked up her cane, took all of the paper waste and put it in the bin.
"Time we checked out the White Rooster," she said.
They walked in the general direction of Monsieur Henri's via a street parallel to their original route. The sightseeing and window shopping were just as good one street over. Iolanthe tried to identify the guest houses and remember their names. She was not going to let the Potters' vague plans for a family holiday in St. Guinefort remain unfulfilled.
"At least we're in different houses," Hester observed. "No one will be watching to see if we're eating together. Or not eating together."
"True," said Iolanthe. "Ravenclaw to the rescue. How do you like it there?"
"Love it," said Hester. "I always tried to get the best marks I could, even before Hogwarts. Don't ask me why. Maybe it's the way I feel when I'm really focused. Everything else goes away. No noise. Just that new knowledge going in."
"Oh, you're the same as me. I like it. How about the alleged competition?" Iolanthe asked. "Ever get tired of that?"
"Some people overdo," said Hester. "I can't deny it. One of the upper class witches took me in hand first year. I learned the grinds are the ones who are missing the point."
They encountered a large puddle in their path, and crossed the street to the opposite corner. Le Coc Blanc was visible one street over.
"Here we are," said Iolanthe as they walked the cross street. The restaurant was open, the sidewalk chairs and tables ready for occupancy.
"I'm ready for a pot of tea," said Iolanthe. "You?"
"Tea," said Hester. "Maybe something sweet to finish off lunch. Nothing too big. I'm not getting much exercise on vacation."
"Maybe…" said Iolanthe.
They ordered a pot of tea and decided on crème caramel for dessert, sharing one serving.
"Maybe," Iolanthe said, "I'll just tell any nosy persons to mind their own business."
Hester thought that was a good start. She slid her spoon down the creamy dessert, detaching a thin slice and capturing a little of the caramel sauce.
"If someone asks if I'm Harry Potter's daughter, I'll answer, 'Yes, aren't you?'" said Hester.
Iolanthe nodded.
"I thought Mother was the source of my sense of humor," Iolanthe said. "I was mistaken. If you're still wondering, we're all glad you're here. I've heard nothing to the contrary, I swear."
"That's so nice of you to tell me, Iolanthe," said Hester. "I think my mum kept it quiet for so long because she thought we'd be rejected, and I would get hurt. Growing up with her and Aunt Flora, I was only vaguely aware I didn't have a dad. If I didn't look like James it might never have been an issue. Then, this term, it was obvious something was going on. We had to be connected. I expected to hear we were cousins. Little did I know…"
There was one small chunk of crème caramel left on the plate.
"You can have it," Hester said as she laid her spoon on her saucer.
"No, that's yours," said Iolanthe. "This is your Christmas present. I couldn't possibly."
"Then both of us deferring to the other is a good way to start this off, isn't it?" asked Hester. She pushed her chair back and stood. Iolanthe did some quick math, added a generous tip, signaled to the waiter and laid a handful of sickels on the table. Hester and Iolanthe had gotten to the street and headed for the edge of town when a tall wizard stepped in front of them, blocking their way.
"Ladies," he said, his face an aggressive, threatening leer. "Out for a walk? What's this?"
The man stretched out his arm and gripped Iolanthe's stick. The sleeve of his leather jacket stayed put as he put out his hand, showing an armful of amateur tattoo work.
"Hey!" said Hester. She moved her right hand inside her jacket.
"It's alright," said Iolanthe. "The man just wants to look. It's a stick, for walking. May I please have it back?"
"It's too nice for you," said the wizard. "It's wasted on someone who can't hold onto it. No, I'm keeping it. Get out of here."
He jerked his head in the direction they'd been walking.
"Hester, it will be fine," Iolanthe said. "We need to get home anyway."
"But your…,"
"It's fine," said Iolanthe. "Enjoy your new walking stick, sir."
"Hang on," Iolanthe said as soon as they passed the last building. She wrapped her arm around Hester's waist and Hester did the same to her. Seconds later they were standing on the edge of the green at Potter Manor.
"Wonder who's around?" Iolanthe asked as she looked at her watch. Hester saw Iolanthe slip her fingers under the cuff of her left sleeve and remove her wand.
"Iolanthe, why'd you let him take your stick?" Hester asked.
Iolanthe didn't take her eyes off her watch when she answered, "Because."
"Better get your wand ready," added Iolanthe. "And right about now…"
The sound of a man in great distress came from far off, getting louder as it came closer and closer. Iolanthe looked up and followed the end of the wizard's flight to its abrupt, thumping end on the green. Iolanthe leaned over, her wand pointing at the wizard's nose.
"Oh, you've brought my stick back, how thoughtful of you!" said Iolanthe, reaching.
"Damn you!" shouted the wizard, pulling the cane out of Iolanthe's reach. His wand was visible inside his jacket, on the wrong side for his free hand. Even so, he tried to twist his arm on that side to get to the wand.
"Uh-uh-uh," said Iolanthe, motioning with her wand. "Don't be silly. I'm giving you a chance to be nice."
Hester stood with her own wand in hand, watching Iolanthe tease the wizard, who was still flat on his back. He appeared to be considering his options, came to a decision, let go of the stick and went for the wand.
"Petrificus totalis!"said Iolanthe, freezing the wizard where he lay. She took one step and bent to retrieve her silver-headed stick, after which she seized his wand for good measure.
"I bought this for our trip, because I wanted a port key that I'd be sure to have with me when it was time for us to go," she said. "Mr. Matinee Idol just showed us the wisdom of putting a carefully-chosen charm on one's personal items ahead of time. Well, lessons learned."
"If you're that good at apparation, why did you need the port key?" Hester asked.
"I wasn't sure I could get us to St. Guinefort," said Iolanthe. "The Channel is all around it, and if I really overshot we'd be in France."
"Logical," said Hester. "How'd you know you could get us both back?"
"Didn't," said Iolanthe. She caught Hester's shocked look.
"Well, we've got to stretch ourselves now and then, don't we? Otherwise, how would we know our limits? Now, this wizard was rude to my sister and me," said Iolanthe. "We shall return the favor. All he had to do was put my property down and let it return to me, but it seems he was too thick to let go of it."
She tucked her stick under one arm and pointed her wand at the frozen wizard, raising him up off the ground with a wingardium leviosa.
"This way," she said, stepping off across the green toward the woods. The witches hadn't gotten very far in when Iolanthe left the path, walked a few feet, and put her wizard down on some dry grasses. He couldn't move, but his eyes were saying he was furious.
"Through here," she said, waving her wand to open a portal and stepping through. Hester followed and once through, looked around and saw an old-fashioned enclosure comprising a thick, perfectly-laid hedge penetrated by a monstrous iron gate.
Hester took her time looking the gate over, a phenomenon necessitated not only by the craftsmanship and artful design but its size. She thought it looked like the great eighteenth and nineteenth century ceremonial gates one saw here and there in London, or perhaps a larger version of the main gate at Hogwarts.
There were three gates, actually, two halves of the great structure that met in the middle of the opening and a postern set into the half on the left. The Potter and Black crests were set high up into the two sides.
"Wow," said Hester.
While Hester was looking over the gate to the enclosure, Iolanthe had busied herself levitating her wizard and bringing him in through the portal, which she then closed behind them.
"See anything?" Iolanthe asked, keeping her own eyes on her prisoner. One never knew when a spell would wear out, or just get bored with petrifying an inconsequential wizard and go looking for something more interesting to do.
"There is a red pig asleep under an oak tree on the far side," said Hester.
"You're in luck!" said Iolanthe. She turned and gave her wand a wave, opening the gate on the right side. Turning right back to her wizard, she picked him up with another wingardium leviosa, and deposited him, still frozen, inside the pig pen. The red pig slept on. Iolanthe closed the large, right hand gate and reset the chains. She opened the postern and asked Hester to stand there and tend it, in case it became necessary to move quickly.
"Porcinafors!"Iolanthe called out as she cast. The hoodlum from St. Guinefort transformed into a pig, specifically, a fine representative of the Hampshire breed with the distinctive markings of his clan.
"Now, Mr. Pig," said Iolanthe. "You may have heard of Kalypso. We aren't going to commit any violations of magical law or international conventions over your misapprehensions about us, but you will be restricted in your movements until we are satisfied you will not mistreat women ever again. I hope that is clear to your piggy brain. I've never known exactly how much a transformed brain understands and I don't speak pig. Rest assured you will be given all the customary comforts afforded to your kind while you are our guest."
With that Iolanthe reversed the petrificus totalis, gave a generous poke of her walking stick right into a ham and sent her new pig dashing across the compound.
"What do you think?" Iolanthe asked, waving her hand at the hedge, the pigs and the pig pen.
"What is this?" Hester asked. Her voice was difficult to categorize. She was a bit frightened but some genuine curiosity was also coming through, along with a bit of awe.
"Something very difficult happened and we were presented with a situation. There was no getting out of it. A quandary. We were forced to look it in the face and deal with it," said Iolanthe. "A temporary measure, at first, then the thing didn't resolve, so some of us went to work and made this lovely enclosure. What do you think of the hedge? It's the best thing there is for keeping one's pigs out of trouble. No wire, so they don't get cut. They like to rub themselves on wooden planks so those don't last long, then they escape from their pen and get eaten by dragons. A good, well-maintained enchanted hedge is just the thing."
Iolanthe walked through the postern gate and Hester closed it behind her. Iolanthe touched the lock with her wand and listened for the series of clicks, groans and sounds of turning wheels that signaled success.
"Let's get something warm inside us, then we'll have to see about getting you home to Surrey," Iolanthe said. Iolanthe reopened the portal, witches stepped through, and Iolanthe closed it with another wave of her wand.
"We've got to go back to St. Guinefort," said Iolanthe as they walked through the woods. "Have you ever seen anyplace more perfect?"
"Kind of like Hogsmeade, with an ocean," agreed Hester.
"I'm thinking a witches' weekend, in April or May. Before the summer crush. We'll take our mothers. Rose will come. Lissette, too, unless she's on duty or something. Tracey and Zelda," Iolanthe rambled on.
They reached the house and entered through the patio door.
"Periwinkle?" called Iolanthe.
"Yes Miss Iolanthe!" said the elf as soon as she'd materialized.
"Periwinkle, Miss Hester and I would like a cup of something in the library," said Iolanthe. "Coffee, tea, raspberry tea, hot chocolate, hot cider?"
"Hot chocolate, please," answered Hester.
"Raspberry tea for me, please, Periwinkle," Iolanthe summed up.
"Want to call your mother? There's the fireplace, and the floo powder is in the green box."
Hester got through with no trouble, told Hestia where she was and that she'd be home soon.
"I love this house," Hester said. "Did you grow up here?"
"Mostly," said Iolanthe. "Spring and summer we'd be here, but Mother and Father liked to stay in London during the winter. It was easier, closer to work and so on. Plus they both like the way London looks when it's all decorated for Christmas. Mother learned some magical architecture and design from Grandfather Greengrass, so she designed this place based on Greengrass Manor with some ideas of her own. There was a Potter Manor here that was destroyed in the first war and never rebuilt. Father let Mother build whatever she wanted. She calls it her dream house."
"Gosh," Hester said.
"Romantic, isn't it?"
Hester looked around the room, which was as much gallery as library.
"I'll say," she agreed. "Who is the painter?"
"My great-uncle Larry," said Iolanthe. "Lawrence Davis. He's an artist plus he teaches art in America. Someplace in upstate New York."
"I like them," Hester said. "I've never heard of a wizard artist. There had to be some, I suppose."
"Uncle Larry doesn't use magic," Iolanthe said. "Hence, a career, outside of magic, in New York?"
"Oh-h-h," said Hester. "Sorry."
"You didn't know," Iolanthe said. "You'll pick it all up in time."
Hester tipped her cup up and drained the hot chocolate.
"I'd better go," she said, standing and turning for the fireplace. When she got there she turned back to Iolanthe. They looked at one another for a moment before embracing. Hester started to cry.
"What?" asked Iolanthe. "Tell me, please."
"It's silly," said Hester. "Mum and Aunt Flora were always there. They didn't treat me like a child, exactly, but they're very close and I always wanted something like they had. You called me your sister today, and I thought, maybe, someday, we'll get to be close like that. A little."
"Let's take it one step at a time," said Iolanthe, hugging Hester tight. "Get to know one another. I never had a sister, either. Can't make up for fifteen years all at once."
"I know," said Hester with a sigh.
"Oh, and, do you officially have a new pig?" asked Hester.
"Not just yet," said Iolanthe. "If he can be rehabilitated I'll send him back. Maybe that will be just between us? I'll let you know, soon."
The Potters, Tracey and Zelda dined as a family at Potter Manor that evening.
"We're all here," Harry began. Forks ceased spearing. Knives stopped slicing.
"Yes, we are," said Daphne.
"And it is just us," Harry tried once again.
"Two in a row," Daphne observed.
"Two what?" Harry asked, annoyed, but also curious.
"Truisms," said Daphne.
It was a struggle but everyone held back, even Harry.
"Well, my point was, we can talk among ourselves," Harry said. "Candidly. Without concern anyone will carry tales as to subject matter or opinions one or two may hold that are at odds with what the others may think, et cetera."
"You've come to a decision," said Daphne. "We get to hear it first."
"No!" Harry said. Daphne looked him in the eye.
"Well, tentatively, you could say," Harry said. "You all get to tell me what you think."
"Before you go public," said Daphne. "Of course, Lord Harry, very democratic as usual."
Tracey and Zelda looked from face to face.
"Alright, then, what would everyone think if I legally recognized Hester Carrow?" Harry asked. "If that is what the Carrows want, including Hester, of course."
"Harry has engaged a magical family lawyer," Daphne explained. "We got the ayes and nays of continuing as we are at present, and of Harry recognizing Hester. He's just taking a very long, meandering route to his conclusion."
"What happens if you recognize her?" asked James.
"It makes it easier to tidy up my final affairs," said Harry. "Hester would be entitled to a junior share of any unentailed assets. The ministry records office modifies her birth record so she has a father. Some of the effects sound old-fashioned, even archaic. It could be important if she has an offer of marriage. I would negotiate with her intended's parents to protect her interests, along with Hestia."
"What happens if you don't?" asked Iolanthe.
"In theory we maintain the status quo," said Harry.
"Only, we don't think that is actually possible," Daphne said.
Tracey, who had been silent, spoke up.
"You'll have some obligations to the Carrows, won't you?" she asked. "Or at least to Hestia. They've raised Hester up to this point without any support."
"True," said Harry. "I offered to talk about that, any time they were ready, but both of them just put me off. They didn't seem at all pleased that I raised it. I got the feeling they're proud of what they accomplished on their own and were mildly insulted by my presumption. I haven't raised recognition with Hestia yet because of their reaction. That could alienate them completely if badly handled."
"It sounds like you're willing to go ahead," said Tracey.
"Not without everyone around this table telling me you don't have any objections," said Harry. "It will affect everyone's lives and relationships for as far ahead as it's possible to see. All of you are my councilors. I won't even raise it with Hestia if anyone has doubts."
"She's Ravenclaw's seeker," offered Zelda.
"And?" said Tracey.
"Gryffindor will be playing them when we go back," said Zelda. "Once we're out there flying around the pitch…"
"Of course, Zelda, it goes without saying you must show no mercy, ever," said Harry. "That's how the game is played. If she doesn't like it she can hang up her broom."
"I vow to Godric Gryffindor…" Zelda began.
"To bring home the golden snitch or die with honor," Harry finished, half shouting, his left hand suddenly a fist beside his plate.
Zelda and Harry were the only two Gryffindor seekers present so the significance of their shared pre-game oath, handed down from seeker to seeker for generations, was lost on the others.
Zelda and Harry looked around the table, then nodded at one another. Zelda told Harry later that she felt sorry the people she loved would never know the incredible feeling repeating the oath induced in Gryffindor seekers.
"It's a rare experience," Harry told her, "and a precious one. I'm glad we can share it."
"Well, then," Daphne said. "Any further comments, for or against? With or without a self-declaration of insanity?"