Chapter Eight: The World is Wrong
Wrong, everything was wrong. He felt wrong and his magic felt wrong and the woman who called herself 'Mummy' felt wrong too. Where was his Mommy and his Daddy and his baby sister? She was two now, he knew, two years younger than him and he loved being her big brother, playing with her and letting her magic play with his. But Mom and Dad and baby sister weren't here, so it was wrong, all wrong.
"Want to go home," he protested when the woman tried to feed him. He wasn't a baby…he could feed himself. "Where baby sister?"
"Silly Daniel…" That wasn't his name, but Mummy woman kept using it. "You don't have a baby sister."
"My name Lance," he piped back, ignoring the angry look on Mummy woman's face. "I have baby sister and Mom and Dad and I want to go home."
Mummy woman swept him up, ticking his tummy and he didn't like it, not at all…not even Mommy did that to him. He squirmed, trying to use his magic to get her away, but it just twitched and didn't do anything. Confused, he tried again…his magic had never been locked away; Daddy had done that to baby sister a few days ago, but that was because she was too little to understand why she couldn't use her magic when Daddy said not to. A moment later, he burst into tears, wailing that his magic was being kept away from him. Wrong, it was wrong and he wanted to go home!
"Shhh, Daniel, it will be okay," Mummy woman whispered, petting his hair…he hated that too…and Daniel still wasn't his name. "I know you're very upset right now, baby, but it will be over soon, I promise. Mummy will take care of you and we'll live happily ever after."
"Home, want to go home," the four-year-old protested as loudly as he could. "Want Mommy and Daddy and baby sister."
His magic heard him and surged, but weakly; it touched him lightly, but slipped away before he could understand it. Uncle? He didn't have an uncle, did he? He'd met a cousin – who said he was baby sister's cousin, too – did that mean he had an uncle? And his magic's touch only served to make him wail louder, upset and very, very much alone.
"Now, what, sister dear?" Maria inquired acidly. "Suppression Potions aren't working, he's burning through your memory spells even without his wand…quite impressive for a Mudblood (3), if you ask me…and even your De-Aging Potion doesn't seem to be slowing him down."
In truth, she didn't care all that much…her sister might be enchanted by this pathetic little Mudblood, but she wasn't…even if his magic was managing things that should be impossible. If the Mudblood had been a pureblood, well, that would have been a completely different story and she might, might, then consider him as her nephew, but that was neither here nor there; magical ability did not change the fact that Helen's 'Daniel' was, at heart, a Mudblood. But Helen shot her a furious look and snapped. "Don't call Daniel a Mudblood! He's pureblood, from a proud family, as you should already know!"
Merlin's beard, she really believed that. Maria shook her head. "You didn't answer my question, sister mine. What do you intend to do now?"
"I'll take him home, of course," Helen replied, a fond smile crossing her face. "He's very stubborn, my Daniel, but Mummy will make him see sense soon."
"Home?" Maria hoped, fervently, that she was wrong, but…
Helen tisked at her. "I'll be taking Daniel home to England, Maria. Much safer than staying here. Hogsmeade, I think, for starters…no Muggles there."
"And how do you intend to manage that when 'Daniel' doesn't have any documentation?" Maria questioned, her voice turning to icy frost. She had no intentions of considering a Mudblood as family. Daniel had been family…this boy was nothing to her, nothing at all. "And you won't be able to get any either, Helen. Not with a death certificate on file."
Helen turned, an angry look on her face, but before she could respond, a wail rose around them…the ward alarm on the 'nursery'.
He itched and tried to scratch, but the itch never went away, no matter how hard he scratched…he scratched so hard, he bled, and still he itched. And not just in one place; he itched all over and his magic flopped weakly and it hurt and he wanted to go home! He never itched at home, not like this and his magic was free to play with his baby sister and everything was wrong here. He sniffled, trying to hold back his wails…he didn't want Mummy woman to come back; he wanted his Mommy and Daddy and baby sister.
But something else began to wail and he hunched down, covering his ears and whimpering. It was loud and he itched and his magic hurt and his body hurt and it was wrong, wrong, wrong! When Mummy woman and another woman came in, he couldn't help it.
"I wanna go home!" he wailed, pounding his little fists against the floor. "I want Mommy and Daddy and baby sistuh!"
Mummy woman swept him up, cooing at him, but he didn't want her, he wanted Mommy! "Mummy's here, Daniel, Mummy's here."
"And that," the other woman observed, her voice so cold that the little boy shivered, "Is why Suppression Potions can't be used long term." She walked over, studying him with an odd look in her eyes. "You have to stop using them or he'll get worse, Helen."
"If I don't use them, his magic will keep misbehaving," Mummy woman retorted.
"And if you don't stop, you'll have another dead 'Daniel' on your hands," the cold woman spat. "Magic cannot be suppressed like this, Helen. Keep feeding him those potions and he won't live long enough for you to have 'Daniel' back." Without waiting for a response, the cold woman left.
Mummy woman was angry, he could tell, and he whimpered again. "I wanna go home," he whispered.
"And so we shall, Daniel," Mummy woman replied. "We will go home, Daniel, just as soon as Mummy gets your things together."
She didn't feed him the nasty tasting stuff that night and he soon felt his magic trickling around him, purring and making itself at home in his skin once more. In spite of the wrongness, he giggled and let it out. And when it came out, it murmured to him, like it had before baby sister was born, like it had when Daddy had introduced him to the stocky friendly man with a son the same age as he was.
He blinked back tears when the magic told him Mommy and Daddy were gone. "Baby sister?" he asked anxiously. He didn't think he could bear it if baby sister was gone, too.
Gold light curled around him, pulsing gently. The little boy smiled at the response. "Baby sister here?" At the correction, he scowled again. Here but not…what was that supposed to mean? Did that mean that mean Mummy woman was keeping his baby sister away from him?
"No, Daniel, you mustn't," Mummy woman cried, picking him up and making the gold light disappear. His magic shuddered at her touch and he shuddered too.
"Baby sister!" he declared, "Want baby sister now!"
Mummy woman rocked him, making him hiss loudly at her. "Hush, now, baby. You don't have a sister. Mummy will have to lock up your magic if you don't keep it in."
Drink the nasty tasting stuff that made him itch and made his magic flop? He didn't want that…and his magic whispered that he could go home sooner if he didn't make mean Mummy woman angry. He didn't understand, but he did want to go home, so he crossed his arms and didn't argue with mean Mummy woman who didn't know his name and didn't know he had a baby sister.
Mean Mummy woman sang a lullaby, but Lance refused to listen to it…she wasn't listening to him so he didn't have to listen to her. When she tucked him into bed and petted his hair, he almost hissed again, but his magic murmured warning.
"Good night, Daniel," she cooed from the doorway and then left, closing the door behind her.
Lance got out of bed and crossed to the door, listening hard for mean Mummy woman to leave. He pushed against the door and his magic wrapped around him, letting him see the bad spell mean Mummy woman had put on the door. The four-year-old scowled as much as he could…mean Mummy woman would know if he tried to go home. With a sigh and after a slight prod from his magic, he climbed back into bed.
"Please, Aslan, watch over my Mommy and Daddy and baby sister," he prayed after a few minutes of sulking. "Tell them where I am, so I can go home soon." He sniffled and his magic curled around him, feeling a bit like Mommy when he was sick and nothing seemed to go right. But if Mommy and Daddy were gone, who would take care of him…of baby sister? He was big, but he wasn't big enough to be like Daddy…tall and strong and wise. But Daddy would want him to look after his baby sister, so he would…he would!
A sense of Someone there made him look up and his eyes widened in delight at the sight of the Lion. "Peace, Son of Adam," the great Lion rumbled.
"Aslan," Lance cried, scrambling out of the bed and ending up clinging to the Lion's mane. "You came, You came." He buried his face in the Lion's fur and tried very hard not to cry. "Will You take me home?"
The Lion settled Himself, curling around the distraught little boy. "Soon, Son of Adam," he rumbled quietly. "I have set things in motion, but you must be patient a little while longer."
Lance clung even harder to the Lion, but he had to know. "Are Mommy and Daddy really gone?" he asked.
The Lion's paw stroked him gently. "I am sorry, little one. I called them home some time ago." And the Lion's grief was just as great as Lance's, for He rumbled and tucked the sobbing little boy close. There was no order to hush, no prodding to finish quickly, no remark that 'real men didn't cry' or any other such nonsense from the Lion…just a calm, steady presence that mourned the loss of Lance's parents alongside him.
No one interrupted the pair; indeed, had Helen looked, she would have seen precisely what she expected to see…her four-year-old 'son' tucked in bed and sleeping peacefully. The Lion holding the young Wild Mage close, guarding his sorrow, waited until the young boy had cried himself out and fallen asleep. A Lion's rumble stirred the air as His gaze turned from the child to the woman. He mourned Helen's husband and son even more than she did, for He knew them well; knew them even better than Helen did, just as He also knew Helen better than she knew herself.
When He had called the young Son of Adam home, He had also stretched out His paw to the young one's parents; both had rejected His efforts, blaming each other, blaming themselves, blaming anyone and everyone that they could. And then, He had called the father home, leaving Helen all alone. Again, He had reached out to her, through her family, through her neighbors, even through a Daughter of Eve who'd been brave enough to walk right up to Helen and tell her that He loved her. All had been rejected, all had been sent away, as Helen sank into depression, turning her son into an idol.
He still heard Tash's laughter as the dark, fallen one arranged the car accident and the crossing of two paths. His Father had permitted Tash's actions, but Tash himself had forgotten several details in his planning…a child's faith and that child's plaintive cry, ringing loud above all that Tash had done, pleading for help. Had also forgotten that Justice delayed was not Justice denied. Aslan cradled the sleeping child, pleased that the Son of Adam had held firm, in spite of every attempt, every enticement to surrender and give in.
His attention turned back to Helen and He considered His next efforts on her behalf; she was, after all, one of His Father's creations and therefore very dear to Him. She would soon be faced with a choice…surrender her 'son' or have him taken from her. He knew what she would choose and the consequences that would follow; He regretted the choice she would make, but only when she had hit rock bottom – and was willing to admit her failures – would she be open to His words. And she had already had a great many chances to give the child back to his family voluntarily.
The little boy in His paws shifted restlessly, his physical hurts from the car accident as yet unseen to. The Lion lowered His head and nuzzled the child; the boy snuggled further into His fur. The Lion looked up again, His eyes seeing the boy's sister and uncle as they mourned for the child in His paws. Soon, He would wipe their tears away and restore their brother and nephew to them.
Soon.
Helen hummed to herself as she finished the last of the conjuring work. In front of her were two magically created identification cards that would allow herself and little Daniel to go back to England. Maria, she knew, would be horrified, but, really, the best way to ensure Daniel's safety was to travel on that Muggle flying craft. Portkeys were out of the question, what with Maria's point that Daniel had no papers, nothing to prove that he was, as she knew, her son.
But the Muggles would be easy to fool, easy to confund and slip past. It would be simplicity itself to trick them into believing she had those Muggle passports and airplune tickets. And once Daniel was in England, she could take him to Hogsmeade and they could live out their lives in happiness and peace. She smiled at the image of her Daniel playing and bringing her flowers, just as he had done when he was little. She would protect Daniel…no matter what.
"Soon, baby," she whispered. "Soon we'll be safe, I promise."
Soon…
[3] A derogatory reference to Muggleborns, arising from the theory that Muggle blood 'taints' magical blood
Author note: Happy Birthday to me! Sorry, couldn't help myself. Parents are in town, I took a day off work, and my birthday is on a Friday which gives me a long weekend. Yay!
