Chapter 5: Miracles and Wonders

The Bon Charme looked pretty much the same as it did when Melody and I were there on our honeymoon, but there was something about it that just looked...better. The paint was new, the flowers were in full bloom not to mention the landscaping, and everything just...it looked brand new. I hurriedly stepped out of the way for Ron and Harry to come through the Floo, and as I did I saw Marie Chennault on her way over. I stuck out my hand to shake her hand but instead she did a Molly Weasley and engulfed me in a hug.

"Oh Professor, so good to see you." She held me at arms length. "You lost some hair, but you still look good. Mister Draco been tellin' us about you over there in Scotland. Two childrens now, no wonder you lost hair, boy."

"Thanks, Marie. And you still look beautiful as ever."

"Pfft." She waved her hand at me. "Now I knows you lying, I'm a day older than dirt and just about as pretty. Come on, now, lets get y'all your rooms." She turned to Harry and Ron and shook their hands. "Mighty proud to have you two stayin' here, mighty proud. Mister Draco offered to pay for your rooms, and I got that letter from Gringotts, but I ain't putting that on the Auror account, no sir. Y'all stay here for free. Least we can do to thank you."

Harry shook his head. "Thank you, but that's not necessary. The Auror department..."

"Your gold's no good, son." Marie smiled and shook her head. "All I ask is that y'all sign in the guest register." She took her wand out of the pocket of her dress, one that looked like it was in style for church-going grandmothers in the 1950's and waved it towards the desk, and levitated three keys over, snatching them from the air. She handed one to Harry. "You're in the Fleur de Lis room, top floor on the right. Mr. Weasley, you're in the Turret room, right across the hall." She turned to me and smiled. "Pity that pretty young wife a'yours ain't here, but I had to do it. Hope you don't mind, Professor, but I put you in the Honeymoon suite."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Sure, not a real Auror and he gets the big room."

Marie dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Hush, child, all the rooms up there the same size. You be fine." She turned to Harry. "Floo's open for another hour if'n y'all want to go into New Orleans and get something to eat. Sorciere Perdue'll bring you back. No Apparition in or out'a the Bon Charme."

I took a look at the two Aurors. "You guys ever been to Bourbon Street?" Seeing their heads shake negatively I smiled. "Oh, you're in for a treat. You want to talk about a great place to eat..."

"Then let's go." Ron shouldered his bag and looked at Harry. "Come on, let's put our stuff away and go. I'm starving."

I followed them up the stairs, and when I opened the door to my room it was like stepping back in time, except for the facts that Melody wasn't with me, I had luggage and stupid teenagers hadn't stolen my beautiful, beautiful Jaguar. I was remembering how it felt driving that car when Ron entered the room without knocking.

"What's the matter, Hank? Getting all misty-eyed thinking about you and Melody?"

I took a deep breath. "No. Well, yes, but mostly my Jaguar. That was a once-in-a-lifetime car, Ron. Sublime."

"You're barmy, mate." Ron shook his head. "You and Dad. Come on, I'm ready to eat. What kind of food is there?"

"Oh boy." I smiled. "Ever had gumbo? Jumbalaya? Boudain...oh shit, boudain balls and fried alligator. Hell yes. Come on, let's get Harry."

-ooo-

I waved the waitress over and motioned for another round as the Cajun band began another song. It had been a hell of a night, watching Ron devour his way through Cajun specialties, describing how New Orleans was different than any other place in the US, but mostly just for watching my two friends, heroes in Britain, move anonymously through the sultry summer night. At dinner Harry had informed us that tonight was a free night, but that we'd be busy the rest of our trip, so we decided to do it up right. Well, I did and they followed, somewhat reluctantly at first, but after the first few drinks they joined right in.

"Same as before, but bring two of 'em." I smiled at the waitress who shook her head and laughed. I picked up my bourbon and Coke, drained it and slid the empty glass to the center of the table. "You guys look like you're right at home. Same as Draco, he loved it when I took him here."

Harry gave me a look but Ron waved him off and drained his glass. "Like anyone can hear over this...what's this music called again?"

"Zydeco." I bopped my head along with the accordion. "That's a Clifton Chenier song. Damn, I love this one. HELLO ROSA LEE..."

Ron hit my arm. "Bloody hell, we oughta cut you off."

"Oh live a little, Weasley." I reached over and grabbed Harry's glass and drained it. "What the fuck, straight Coke, no booze? What are you the designated driver?"

"No, Hank. I'm the Head...I'm in charge." Harry adjusted his glasses. "I'm alternating, that's the one without alcohol, ok?"

The waitress arrived with our drinks, sat them down and had to hustle to avoid a very inebriated couple dancing like there was no tomorrow. I wanted a cigarette really, really badly. I was about to go see if they sold any at the bar or, failing that, head outside and bum one but then three women stood by our table. They were in their early forties, if I had to guess, all dressed up and looking for fun, with really pretty cafe au lait colored skin, and the one who spoke first had long, braided hair.

"Come on, boys, let's cut a rug."

Harry smiled and gave them that 'sorry, no' look he had perfected when dealing with the press. "So sorry, we're married. Thank you, though."

"Oooh!" The one in a moderately tight tank top squealed. "I looove that accent!"

The third one walked over and stood between me and Ron. I could smell her perfume, and it was pretty damned good smelling stuff. "Three English men, here in New Orleans."

"He's American." Ron pointed at me.

"Dual citizenship, dork." I hit him on the arm and turned towards the women and helf up my left hand. "And married. Ladies, I think we'll..."

"Come on!" The one with braids reached out for Ron's hand. "One dance. Y'all might be married but ya ain't dead. Just a dance, c'mon."

"Well..." Ron smiled. "Just one."

As Ron stood up the woman realized how tall he is and laughed. "Glad it ain't a slow dance, that'd be something awkward."

As they walked over to the dancefloor I looked over at Harry, then to the other women, and then back to Harry. "Fuck it. Come on, Potter. Break out those wicked dance moves." I stood up, smiled at the lady next to me, the one with the nice perfume, and followed her out on the dance floor, followed shortly by Harry and the lady in the tank top.

We didn't talk, we just danced, first to another Clifton Chenier song, but then things got interesting as the band broke out a swampy, slinky Dr. John song. My dance partner was pretty reserved, as much as you can be with a lot of booze, but Ron's partner? Braid lady was getting into it, and Ron gave me a few 'what the fuck do I do now?' looks, which was hilarious. Thankfully, before things could get interesting the band took a break, so we thanked our dance partners and headed back over to the table.

I sat down, ok, half-fell down in my chair, picked up one of my drinks and put down half of it in one go. Ron looked a little pale, which made Harry laugh at him. I laughed at both of them. "If your wives could see y'all now, they'd, shit, they'd lose it. That dance at H...at school, you guys sucked at that from the stories I've heard. Maybe you just needed the right music." I finished my drink. "Jesus, I need a smoke."

"And what would Melody say about that?" Ron pointed his drink at me.

"Oh shit, she'd go off on me forever. But she's not here. It's a smoking holiday!" I stood up. "I need one, be right back."

Before they could argue I manuvered through the crowd, nodded at the bouncer to catch his attention and asked where the smoking section was. He pointed around the corner, so I half-stumbled over there and saw Ron's dance partner standing by the wall smoking. I headed over there and smiled.

"Sorry, but I really need one. Can I bum one?"

"Sure, honey." She reached into her purse, brought out the pack and handed it to me.

I took the cigarette and almost went for my wand when I realized that could get me in big trouble. "Uh, hate to ask..."

"Do you need a pat on the back to get it started, too?" She laughed and pulled out a pink lighter from her purse.

"Thanks." I lit the smoke, inhaled, and closed my eyes. "Goddamn I needed that. Thanks." I stuck out my hand. "I'm Hank."

"Ruby." She smiled. "Where you from? Can't place that accent."

"Virginia originally, but I live in Scotland now."

"That explains the Brits." She smiled and took a drag off her smoke. "What y'all doing over here? Tourists?'

I shook my head. "Nah, funeral, actually."

She gave me a sad look. "Sorry to hear that."

"Its ok. Unexpected, but what can you do?"

"Live. That's what. Drink, dance, and live." She pulled out another cigarette, stubbed out the other, spent one with the toe of her sandal and lit the new one. "Your friend isn't much of a dancer. Forgot Weasley was that tall."

I nodded. "Yeah, Ron's definitely got that going for him." I stood there for a moment and then it hit me. "Holy fucking shit!"

Ruby laughed a long, throaty laugh. "Oh my, if you could see your face...don't worry, Professor. Tauntie Marie said y'all were comin' down to Bourbon, so we thought we'd have some fun." She looked around, saw nobody looking and took a thin wand out of her purse, cast a quick spell and smiled at me. "There, nobody hear anything they ain't supposed to. Lavender's gonna love this story."

"You know Lavender?" I pushed my glasses up to my forehead, where they immediately slipped down due to the sweat, so I put them in my pocket. "Shit, are you AAB?"

"Ruby Dupree, AAB, at your service. Don't worry, Professor, we aren't here on work. Well, sorta. Promised we'd watch out for y'all tonight since its your fun night. Unofficially. You introducing Potter and Weasley to New Orleans proper?"

"Guess so." I laughed. "Never seen anyone eat more fried alligator and gumbo than Ron." I gave her a smirk. "So the dancing thing...you're just giving us shit?"

"Yeah." She exhaled. "Wanted to have a bit of fun. I mean, now I can tell everyone I danced with Ron Weasley. Poor Esme, she just got you. We drew straws, Cindy got the short one so she picked Potter."

"Well fuck." I put out my cigarette and lit the other one. "I get it, I'm small potatoes compared to those two. No, no really, I am. Totally get that."

Ruby flipped her braids over her shoulder. "You really going to a funeral or was that just a cover story?"

"Yeah." My voice was quieter. "I do have a funeral to go to."

"Sorry to hear that." She looked over at the bar as the music started up again. "So, should we go in and save Potter and Weasley?"

"Yeah, but let's have some fun with it." I smiled at her and flicked my cigarette into a puddle. "George would never forgive me if we didn't."

When we walked back over to the table I had my arm around Ruby's shoulder and she had her arm around my waist. When Ron saw us he half-spit out his drink while Harry looked as if he'd just been told that Ginny was actually a man. I sat down in the chair and Ruby sat on my lap. I picked up my drink, took a big slurp and smiled at them. "Hey guys, we're relocating. House party. Private party. Come on, let's go settle up and leave." I waved my arm for the waitress.

"Hank." Harry looked at me stonily. "We are on holiday, but look at your hand. Your left hand."

"Yeah, mate." Ron leaned over the table. "How old's your daughter? Melody's gonna bloody kill you. Quit it."

I looked up at Ruby and we both broke out in laughter at the same time. She slid off my lap, pulled a chair over from an empty table nearby, and leaned over to Harry. After whispering in his ear he let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. Ron, though, still looked concerned as all get out. Thankfully nice perfume woman, who I later learned was Esme, whispered in his ear. His expression changed from one of concerned anger to one that was a mixture of irritation and relief.

"Bloody hell." Ron shook his head at me. "You're worse than George."

The waitress brought over the bill, I signed the tab and smiled. "I try, Ron, I try."

"Wanker."

-ooo-

The sun broke in the windows way too fucking early. I rolled over in the big, empty bed and realized that I had hugged a pillow the night before when I slept, which was cold consolation, as I did miss my wife. We didn't go directly home after the bar, since Ron said that I owed him at least a couple more drinks for fucking with him about cheating on Melody, so the six of us went to another bar and had too many drinks. Ruby took us to a magical bar in the Garden District, one that the New Orleans AAB agents frequented, so then we could really talk. One drink led to another as stories about Auror and AAB agents were trotted out, and I even felt fairly included as the ladies asked me about the whole missing Muggle Studies professor case from a few years back. By the time we caught the Sorciere Perdue even Harry wasn't walking the best. It was a toss-up between me and Ron for who was worse off, but my guess was that it was me because he didn't wake up feeling like he'd licked an ashtray.

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, sat up and immediately laid back down, as my head protested vigorously. "Fuck. Fucking hell. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I laid there and hoped Marie had some hangover potions.

Eventually I did make my way into the shower, which made me feel somewhat human, and after getting dressed I made my way down to the breakfast area to find both Ron and Harry already seated, drinking coffee. Harry was wearing sunglasses, so I knew he wasn't feeling the best, but Ron looked as if nothing unusual had happened; he shoveled large amounts of biscuits and gravy into his mouth. When I sat down he gave me a big smile.

"Hey Hank, how you feeling? I thought they were mental, biscuits and gravy, but these are American biscuits, big difference."

I reached over and poured a cup of chicory coffee and took a big sip of it, black. "Shut up, Ron. I've told you that a million times. Hell, I've even made biscuits before. You've had them at my house."

"Well, yeah, but...oh, and these things? What are these?" He pointed to a bowl with only three left. "Those are great."

"Beignets." I nodded. "Yeah, they are." I looked over to Harry. "Can't you hex him or something? It's not right."

"Tell me about it." Harry shook his head, slipped off the sunglasses and closed his eyes. "Bloody annoying, that's what it is."

"Oh my." Marie stood at the table and shook her head at us. "Bourbon Street and Ruby did a job on y'all. That girl can hold her own with the best of 'em. Here." He handed us hangover potions. "Mixed 'em up special this morning. Put my mama's secret in 'em."

Harry grabbed for one the same time as I did and Ron laughed. "Lightweights."

"Shut up." Harry and I said it at the same time.

"Pitiful. You boys is pitiful." Marie wiped her hands on a towel and put it over her shoulder. "Floo's open in about an hour, you should be right as rain by then."

"Thanks." I downed my hangover potion and felt a bit of heat in my mouth. "Is that..."

"Tabasco." Marie smiled. "Opens you up. You'll be fine. Mr. Weasley, more beignets?"

"Oh yeah." Ron nodded, took the last three and handed her the bowl. "Thanks, these are great."

After she left I looked over to Harry, who seemed to becoming more and more human as the seconds sped by. "So what's the agenda today? Official shit?"

He nodded and put on his real glasses. "Yeah. Today and tomorrow. Today's the AAB, tomorrow's Malfoy, and then we're going to Virginia with you, stop by to see your parents, and then attend the funeral."

"Oh yeah." Ron smiled. "Your mum wrote my mum. If we don't stop and see her you'll be in big trouble. She said she wanted you to take something to Eittel's partner. A card, I think."

The reminder of Eittel's funeral made me smile, an odd thing, obviously, but I had tied one on with Eittel many times, and since I was in New Orleans I thought of how much Eittel would have loved a New Orleans funeral. But then I remembered Eittel's letter, that there was something else that he wanted his partner Lindell to give to me. If Eittel had done the notes in the first Potter Adventure series book, had he done the same with the others? It was while I was thinking about what the other bequest could be when Marie brought over the next bowl of beignets. Thankfully the hangover potion was working well enough that I could have one. Can't go to New Orleans without beignets.

-ooo-

You would have thought that the meeting with the AAB would have been interesting but it was boring as shit. I paid attention for the first few minutes, even though I was sitting in a chair away from the main table, but after they started going into procedureal stuff I just tuned out. I got the main gist of it, though; they were actively investigating the WLF and the other American idiots, and they were interested in the Potter Adventure series, especially the ones that had details that people should not know unless they were involved with the WLF and stuff, but then they started talking about surveillance techniques, jurisdictions, stuff like that. I swear cops can make even the most interesting stuff sound boring as hell. The only time I actively listened after that was when my name came up and I had to talk a little bit about the Potter Adventure series, how I thought different people wrote the books because of the stylistic differences, but after that I tuned out.

Instead of paying attention my mind kept wandering back to Colony House, wondering what kind of trouble Hieronymus was getting into, if Virginia was still sleeping like a log, completely different than her brother at that age. I wondered how my students were getting along, how the classes were doing, but mostly I thought about Melody. I wished she had been with me dancing the night before, and in my mind's eye I flashed back to our honeymoon, that horrible Vanishing Spectre hotel, the mornings of coffee and beignets out in the courtyard, sitting in the sun, reading the paper and watching little birds become braver and braver, hopping over towards our table, hoping for little scraps. Besides that I remembered the sun in her hair, how she wore those sunglasses as I drove the Jaguar, her smile as she draped an arm on the door as the Louisiana scenery went by, my Braves hat jammed on her head to keep the wind from playing havoc with her hair.

Dancing with a pretty woman the previous night notwithstanding, I realized I had it bad. I was totally in love with my wife.

The sound of chairs scraping the floor was my signal to pay attention again, and I stood up with everybody else and followed Harry and Ron out of the office. When we were out in the hallway I asked about the schedule again, and since we were actively working, well, since they were, anyway, it was going to be a quiet night. They had parchment to look through and I was at loose ends. I thought about calling by brother Nate and Lavender but Harry nixed that, since plans had changed with Malfoy. Apparently during the meeting he was given a note, so we headed out to meet Draco.

Instead of heading over to Draco's Muggle office, though, we Flooed over to Sainte Odetta Hospital. When we arrived, and I could tell immediately we were at a hospital, I gave Harry a confused look.

"Is someone sick? Ill, you know what I mean? Is Draco in here?"

Harry nodded. "He is, but he's not a patient. His wife is."

"Astoria? What's wrong with her?" I looked over to Ron. "What do you know?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno, Hank."

We walked through the hospital, took the elevator and ended up on a very quiet floor. A Healer met us, gave us surgical masks and insisted that we put them on, which freaked me out. She told us they were enchanted masks, that they should protect us, but that we were not to touch anything.

I caught Ron's eyes and he didn't give me a very encouraging look. Harry wasn't any better.

We walked into the room, the door opening magically as we approached, and after I entered the room I saw her; Astoria was prone on the bed, Draco at her side, holding her hand. Her eyes were closed and I could see the sweat on her forehead. She looked as pale as the brilliantly white walls.

Draco looked up at us and I could see fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't..."

I shook my head. "Never mind. What's going on?"

"She's..." Draco sighed worriedly. "They don't know. She hasn't been feeling well, and last night she fell in the kitchen. She said she couldn't feel her legs and then she passed out. I brought her here right away. They've been running some tests. They know what it isn't but they don't know what it is."

"I'm sorry, Draco." Ron stuck his hands in his trousers. "Is there anything we can do?"

"We can meet later." Harry nodded. "And Ron's right, if there's anything we can do..."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Draco nodded. "But I brought it with me. Would you do the honors, Potter?" Harry took out his wand and cast a privacy spell. Draco reached behind him and pulled out a file folder from a briefcase. "I've come into some information that should be useful, especially to you, Hank. Your old 'friend' from that dodgy bookshop in Rue Avenue has started a business, a publishing business. He's printing illegal copies of your books."

"Jeez." I took the folder from Draco. "Little bastard creeped me out back then. Painful poker and those bug eye glasses." I flipped through the pages. "So why did I have to come over here?"

"Publishing laws." Draco took a soft rag and wiped the sweat from Astoria's forehead. "You have to make the complaint in person. Tried to get the paperwork filed for you, but I'm not your counsel. Even if I was it wouldn't suffice. Goblins are most precise when it comes to these things." He looked over to Harry. "I believe if you can trace Hank's books back to the publisher you might find who is printing those awful books about you, Potter."

"And trace the gold." Harry nodded. "Thank you, Malfoy. We'll look into it." He watched Draco's gaze drift over to Astoria. "But don't worry about that right now. Who's watching your son?"

"Scorpius is with his nanny and her family right now. I don't know what we'd do without them."

Harry dismissed the privacy spell. "Ok, then, we'll leave you."

The Healer walked in, cast a few diagnostic spells on Astoria and turned to leave when she saw me. "Where did you get that folder?"

"Uh, from Draco." I nodded in Draco's direction. "Why?"

The Healer flicked her wand at the ceiling, causing the lights to flash a bright blue. Three Healers swept into the room and the wand-flicking Healer pointed at me. That was the signal for all hell to break loose. One of the Healers cast some sort of weird purple spell at me which covered me in a purple cloud while the other one hit me with a spell that made me go stiff, petrificus something, and then they levitated me out of the room and into the next room. With another wave all my clothes were gone, a hospital gown was slapped on me and I was put into the bed. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the Healers do a spell that made it impossible for Ron and Harry to come into the room, and Harry was talking rapidly to one of the Healers.

Fuck.

I laid there, unable to move for God knows how long, and finally a Healer came in, some lady with salt and pepper hair, and did the counter-whatever so I could move again.

"What the fuck is going on?" I sat up quickly, worried and mad. "I mean, what the fuck?"

"You were told to touch nothing, weren't you?" She shook her head at me. "Your vitals aren't very encouraging, you're dehydrated and there's a substance in your blood..."

"Of course I am, I got shitfaced drunk last night! I smoked like half a fucking pack of cigarettes! Seriously, you'd better tell me what the hell is going on right now or..."

"You'll do nothing of the sort." She stood, adamant, with her hands on her hips. "I am the Head Healer on Duty and you'll do exactly what I say if you want to live."

"What?" I reached up to pull my glasses onto my face but they weren't on the top of my head. I looked around and saw them, blurrily, on the table next to the bed. I grabbed them and shoved them on my face. "Ok, now you're freaking me out. Seriously, what's going on?"

She blinked a few times and then, after what seemed like forever, nodded. "We don't know what it is, but we think Mrs. Malfoy is patient zero for a new disease. We've never seen anything like it. It attacks a person's magic, affecting the bloodstream and circulatory systems..."

"Oh. Then don't worry about me. I'm only 3% wizard." She looked at me as if I was still drunk. "Seriously, I'm 98.7% Muggle. They did a test at the Ministry of Magic and everything. I'm Hank Boyd. Professor Muggle. I teach at Hogwarts, I wrote the textbooks and the other books."

"Sorry." She shook her head. "Never heard of you."

"My publishing agent sucks. Not surprised." I adjusted my glasses. "Really, though, I don't have much magic at all. Squibs probably have more magic than me. All I can really do is light cigarettes and pipes with my wand. Send an email or owl or whatever over to St. Mungo's in London. They can verify everything. Had to do a physical last year before school started. They've got my records. If this thing Astoria's got affects magic it won't do shit on me."

I could tell she didn't believe me but she left anyway. After she was gone everything started spinning in my head. I was in a hospital. Astoria was patient zero for some fucked up disease that they didn't know what it was, didn't know how to treat it, and for all I knew I'd end up spending God knows how long stuck in isolation. The worst case scenarios started playing out in my imagination, visions of the plastic government crap in E.T. filled my head, along with that seventies TV movie about the boy in the bubble. To keep my sanity I kept singing that song by Paul Simon off of Graceland.

These are the days of miracles and wonders so don't cry, baby, don't cry.

"Professor?" The Head Healer lady walked into my room with a file in her hands. "I apologize for everything, but we cannot be too careful. Only Auror Potter and Weasley's clearance allowed them on this floor, not to mention Mrs. Malfoy's room. We'd like to keep you overnight, just for observation, but we have confirmed with St. Mungo's, and the British Ministry of Magic, that you are of, ah, limited magical ability."

I nodded. "Yep, wand's pretty much useless. So after you run some tests in the morning I can leave?"

"If everything goes well, yes. But the UMS Department of Health may restrict your movements."

"Restrict my...oh fuck, hold on a second. Do you mean I can't go back to Scotland in a few days?"

"That is possible. Let's just see what the tests say in the morning before jumping to any conclusions, please."

"Great. That's just fucking great." I ran a hand through my thinning hair. "Just fucking great. So now what?"

"We'll be in to run some tests shortly. Just rest."

"Rest? You're kidding. There's nothing in here, no books, no TV, nothing. What am I supposed to do? Can't you just give me a sleeping potion or something?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. We don't know if it would interact with the illness Mrs. Malfoy...you've been exposed, Professor Boyd. We can't contaminate the tests with any false positives that may occur after ingestion of a sleeping potion."

"Goddamnit. Goddamnit. Fine. Then can you bring me something to read?"

Once again she shook her head. "We can't risk contamination. This is a clean room."

"No shit." I reached over and pulled the file off the stand next to the bed. "What about this? Is this supposed to be in here? Clean room my ass." I saw her give me a look that reminded me of the ones my mother-in-law gave me when Melody and I first started dating. "Too late on this one, I'm keeping it or else I'll go nuts. Just do me a favor, tell Harry and Ron what's going on, ok? Can you at least do that?"

She nodded, turned and without another word left the room.

So there I was, in a hospital bed, nothing on except a stupid hospital gown that didn't cover my ass, with Draco's file and my glasses, no windows, no TV, nothing else except me, white walls and Merlin knows how much time before I could get out of there. If I ever got out of there.

Fuck. What would Melody say?