Author's Responses at the end:
Chapter Seven: Therapy Sessions
"Kirk, you seen Susan today?" Bill asked.
Kirk shook his head. "No. She missed Linguistics too. Not like her. I don't think she's ever actually missed school before."
After classes Bill went out onto the patio where Susan said she and her friends would sometimes meet. After looking through the maze-like patio and the overwhelming press of other students for several minutes, he finally found Katherine, Mary and Diana. The three of them were sitting on a bench at the far end, nearest the grass that bordered the school on the city-side. More park land buffered the school on the other side of the tramline, before the towers of the city proper started.
"Hi," he said as he arrived. "Have you seen Susan? She wasn't in class today."
"We were just talking about that," Mary said. "We couldn't reach her until just a few minutes ago. She said something happened last night and her parents made her go to the hospital."
Bill blanched and sat down. "Is she okay? What's wrong?"
"She won't say," Diana said. "I'm really worried about her. She's been in the hospital all day. She said they were even going to go to Starfleet Medical to run some type of scan on her."
Bill took her hand, just as she held his hand when he first woke up in Scotland, and the three of them sat there thinking about Susan for the longest time. "If…if you hear from her, could you let her know I was thinking about her?" he asked.
He saw Diana's face drop and felt a stab of remorse. "I think about you too, you know," he said.
She perked up with a hesitant smile. "You do?"
"All the time," he said.
"It's always the red-heads," Mary muttered.
"Well, you have to admit Diana is awfully cute," Katherine said wistfully.
Bill shook his head. "I don't mean just Diana. I mean all of you. You four and Kirk are the only friends I have, and Kirk…it just doesn't feel the same with him or Frakes or even Jess. Not like it feels around you all. I do think about you all. I'm just worried about Susan."
Katherine scooted a bit closer and hung an arm around his shoulders. "We are too, Bill. If we hear anything, we'll let you know."
He leaned into the hug, smiling sadly. "Thank you."
* * *
"…and finally, at the request of San Francisco General we performed a deep-tissue resonance scan on eighteen-year-old Susan Chamberlain," Dr. Feingold in internal medicine said. "On Wednesday evening Ms. Chamberlain suffered night terrors, a possible personality shift, and according to her parents the patient evidenced some psychokinesis with the end result of her bedroom window shattering. Further examination found that the patient's menstrual cycle has also changed. Given that this was a residential tower rated for code, I can understand the parents' concerns regarding the broken window. We have put in a recommendation for the scanner to undergo maintenance as it was unable to penetrate beyond two millimeters. Logs indicate this is the second time the scanner suffered this problem."
Deanna Riker was not really been listening. Dr. Feingold's voice was rather monotonous, and he tended to speak very slowly with the effect of dulling the minds of all the other department heads around the table. However, there was something nagging her about the name Chamberlain.
She pulled Dr. Feingold's report to the side of her monitor and pulled up her personal report files in a separate window beside it. She associated the name with one of Naomi's cases. And…there it was. Susan Chamberlain. One of the four girls that found Naomi's mystery student. A student whose deep-tissue resonance scan only penetrated fifteen millimeters.
"Deanna?"
She blinked and looked up into the sharp, dry gaze of Chief Medical Officer Admiral Julian Bashir. He never missed anything. "Yes?" she said.
"You were having a thought regarding Hubert's report?"
"I'm sorry," Deanna said. "The name is similar to one connected to one of my area's cases. It seemed to be a large coincidence, that's all."
"Can you explain?"
She cleared her throat and looked around the table at the other department heads. "A month ago Susan Chamberlain and three other classmates went to Scotland for a memorial of a relative of hers. While they were there Starfleet observed a surge of unknown energy at their campsite. When Starfleet personnel arrived they found Susan and her friends with a teenage boy who had with no memory of his name or family, or how he came to be there. The investigating officer was assaulted, and so the boy was brought here. He had the same exact results on his deep-rez scan as Miss Chamberlain did. Dr. Wildman is his primary and has requested the use of the high powered scanner aboard the Lauterbur when it returns to Space Dock."
"That does seem to be a rather large coincidence," Bashir said. Though Bashir was not the oldest man at the table, very few who knew or worked him questioned his abilities as Chief Medical Officer for all of Starfleet. "Were these girls questioned at the time?"
Deanna nodded. "It was the conclusion of Commander Paris, who oversaw the investigation, that the girls were lying about something. However, they were not directly involved in the altercation and we have no jurisdiction over Earth citizens."
"True, and a bit of a bother sometimes," Bashir said. "Perhaps it might be beneficial for Miss Chamberlain to also visit the Lauterbur. I bet if nothing else she and her parents would enjoy a tour of a starship."
* * *
Bill stepped off the tram with his school bag thrown over his shoulder. He looked up at Starfleet Medical and sighed. He wondered if Susan was there now.
He checked in as always at the security desk. They scanned him and his PADD to make sure he wasn't carrying any weapons, and he then took the lift to the fifth floor where the Psychiatric department was. Naomi was waiting for him when he arrived. "Good afternoon, Bill," she said brightly.
He loved her smile. It made the skin around the horns on her nose crinkle. "Hi."
"You look worried. What's wrong?"
"A friend of mine from school got sick. She sent a note to another friend that she was going to be seen in Starfleet medical. I was just worried about her."
Naomi knew immediately who he was talking about. "Well, I'm sure she's doing fine. Sit down. Have some water and tell me about your week."
He told her about water polo and Kirk O'Brien. He told her about Nancy and the bad dreams he was having. He didn't mention what was happening during those dreams.
"Do you ever remember anything from the dreams?" Naomi asked.
"No. Just… If I really bad things happened to me, do you think I could still remember the pain even if I didn't remember the details?"
"Do you think bad things happened to you?"
Bill shuddered. He physically shuddered at whatever thoughts he had plaguing his dreams. "The dreams feel more real than my normal dreams. They hurt. It's like I can feel someone cutting me with a knife. There's one dream where all I see is a flash of green and a woman screaming, but it's actually one of my worst dreams."
Naomi discussed the idea of a dream journal, and then they started talking about the when the Lauterbur would be in space dock and what it would be like to transport up to the station. Bill admitted he was excited at the idea of being in outer space on board a real space ship.
"So, Bill, have you met any pretty girls?" Naomi asked with a sly smile.
He blushed brilliantly. "A couple," he said. "You'd like them, I think. They actually remind me of you."
"How so?"
"They're smart and pretty. One of my friends, Susan, was interviewing at a place called the Daystrom Institute that only takes the smartest people in the Federation. Another one of my friends named Katherine said she has already been accepted into Starfleet Academy. I'm just sad they're going to be leaving school soon."
"Well, I'm sure you'll make other friends. Is Kirk O'Brien's graduation soon as well?"
"I think he has another year to go, but it's not the same as Susan, Katherine or the others."
"Why is that?"
"Just doesn't feel the same."
Naomi was fighting with every ounce of her professional training not to smile too brightly at his description of her as smart and pretty. It was an almost juvenile description, and yet for some insane reason it made her ridiculously happy.
"Bill, I know it doesn't seem like it, but things like this could be important. What is it about Susan, Katherine and presumably these other friends that makes you feel differently about then that Kirk. Is it because they're girls?"
"Well, maybe," Bill said. "There's another girl named Jess. She's the team coordinator for the water polo clubs. She's very pretty and also smart, and I caught her looking at me yesterday. She gave me a bright smile and one of the other players said I should ask her out."
"But you didn't?"
Bill shook his head. "She doesn't feel like the others. When I'm with Susan, Katherine Diana and Mary it feels like I can be myself. I know it doesn't make any sense, but it feels like they're just like I am. That they understand me. I don't really want to start anything with anyone else. I guess that's why I'm so worried about Susan. Do you know if she's here?"
"I don't deal with civilian medical cases," Naomi said honestly. "My only concern right now is you."
Bill studied her for a moment before nodding. "So, when is the Lauterbur getting in again?"
"It's actually ahead of schedule and should be arriving in about a week."
He grinned. "So, I found out something today that I wasn't aware of. The Earth history class is planning a trip to England to study the concentration camps from the last world war. I would like to go as well, but I'm not sure whose permission I need to ask for. The teacher suggested I ask you."
"Technically Director Hall acts as your guardian until you come of age, but she would defer any such decision to me. When is the trip?"
"Three weeks."
Naomi thought it over. "I actually think that is a good idea. In fact, I might even volunteer to chaperone for your group."
"So you can be close to me if I remember anything," Bill concluded.
"Of course. That and I've always wanted to travel around the planet a little. I've been on Earth for several years now, but there are still many places I haven't been. I'll admit London wasn't at the top of my list. I have just a touch of empathic abilities and places that have seen huge amounts of death affect me a lot. But if our suspicions are correct and you actually are from London, then it might be the best thing we could hope for to have you go back. I'll send Nancy a recommendation that you be allowed to go."
"Thank you!" Bill said.
The next day Bill had his first water polo practice. As much as he enjoyed it, he couldn't help but think of Susan. Since no one had heard from her, their afternoon date was put on hold. He made his way back to Hope's Point after practice and spent the rest of the weekend working with his tutorials to try and catch up a little.
* * *
Carey Boxing was of the opinion that there were only two kinds of red-heads. The kind who were simply gorgeous, and the rest of them that were not. It was a hair color and complexion that did not suit all body types. She herself was, in her mind, an example of the latter kind. She was overweight, but still somehow managed to have a flat chest, and had a heaviness about her jowls that made it look as if she were frowning all the time.
There was a man who loved her once, when she was much younger and thinner. Stan wasn't the best lover in the world, and he certainly wasn't the most beautiful man in the world, but she never doubted for an instant that he loved her. He didn't mind that her tummy was a little too large even when she was young, or that her breasts were little more than swells on her chest. He adored her so absolutely that he made her feel beautiful even if she wasn't.
He was an enlisted man onboard the USS Majestic during the Federation's offensive to retake a space station on the edge of Dominion-held space. He left with such optimism. "We are going to win this one, Carey!" he told her.
She was four months pregnant, although she had managed to hide it so far. Her dumpy figure proved perfect for concealing her condition. She did not want him worrying about her or their future as he flew off into battle.
She celebrated in the street with everyone else when news came of the victory. It was the first outright victory of the war. It wasn't until a week later when the handsome young lieutenant came by to give her his effects, a posthumous medal for valor and a letter from Captain Sisko informing her of her loss.
She didn't cry that night. She saw her husband on average three months a year because of his long tours of duty. The Majestic was not a deep-space ship and so there was never any consideration of her joining him, nor would she want to. She was used to eating alone.
And sleeping alone.
No, the grief did not come for another five months. It was as if the realization that her husband was dead simply got put on hold during her difficult pregnancy, until the very end. There she lay, recovering from a terrible labor, holding this precious, incredible child. And she was alone. Her own parents were dead, and Stan's parents were on Proxima. She had no one to share this miracle with, and the agony of grief struck all at once. She held her precious little Diana and cried for a solid hour.
She slipped into the apartment and pulled her shoes off with a sigh of relief. Carey ran a flower stand on the Strand. It did not pay very much, but arranging flowers was one of the very few things she was actually good at.
One day, a pretty Orion woman came and made a comment about the prices. "It's not like you Feddies even use money, is it?" the woman asked.
It was a common misconception, often shared by those outside the Federation, or those within it who had enough money not to care.
All economies had to have a medium of exchange in order to survive. Even the most advanced theorists agreed that a true, idealistic communist human government would collapse in on itself regardless of how hard-working people were. There had to be an agreed medium of exchange for labor and goods. However, money did not mean the same in the 24th Century as it did in the 20th.
In the 24th Century, in exchange for half of what everyone made, necessities of life were free. Housing, food, transportation and medical care were provided for. Education was universal. Money simply provided additional creature comforts. Free housing did not come with large view monitors for infonet surfing. The flowers in her shop did not come to her for free. A third bedroom for her daughter's music and her puzzle table was not free.
Though the Boxing family was poor by Federation standards, they had never had to choose between paying rent or paying medical bills. They had never faced starvation because they did not have money to buy food.
Instead, Diana could not go shopping for clothes with her friends. She often had to use government vouchers, and only the most basic retailers accepted those vouchers. They had to use a public food replicator sometimes since they could not afford fresh food.
And so Carey Boxing worked hard to provide that third bedroom. She worked hard so that her daughter, who did not have friends until they arrived in San Francisco, could have an occasional day out with those friends without embarrassment.
Money in 24th Century Earth did not provide subsistence. It provided pride.
She found the left over Thai food in the fridge. Diana must have left it for her. She smiled to herself as she opened the box. No much was left, but it had been a treat to eat out together. She also had a bottle of wine. It wasn't Chateau Picard, but for the price it wasn't bad, and even if it were she would not have known any better.
She settled down in her chair with a sigh, ate her small dinner and drank her wine.
She heard a loud thunk from Diana's room but paid it no mind. It was very late and she suspected her daughter just knocked something off her end table. A moment later she heard an even louder THUNK, followed by a nerve-shattering scream.
Carey dropped her glass of wine as she ran into Diana's room. Just inside the door she froze, stunned. Diana was bouncing on the bed screaming. Not just bouncing, but almost flying into the air and coming down violently as if being yanked about on a buoyant rope. The lights overhead flickered on and off, and without warning Diana's evening lamp flew across the room and shattered just a meter from Carey's head.
Suddenly Carey's beautiful little angel bounced up to her feet. Her face took on a strange, terrified expression, while her eyes assumed an ethereal silver glow. "Harry will come for us, you bastard!" she cried out.
Carey slid to the floor, shaking her head. It was not her daughter's voice. The voice she heard was mature and deep and strong. It was the voice of a woman, not a teen-age girl. Even as she watched, dark emotions played across her daughter's face. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she made just the faintest of whimpers before she snapped her head back and fell boneless to the bed.
It took all the will Carey could summon to push herself to her feet, stumble forward, and look down at her daughter's sweaty brow. She started weeping in earnest when she saw Diana's chest rise with a deep breath. The beautiful girl with the bright red hair opened her green eyes and stared up in confusion.
"Mom?" she asked. "Why are you crying? Have you been drinking again?
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Author's Responses
I'd like to thank the following people: Roosterman71; OrionTheHunter; Manus Dei; gaul1; GinaStar; SomeGuyFawkes; Obsidius; Tilius; immortal7; JEKrug01; Vyrexuviel; Dajohu; Ryan Chessman aka Crys; Debbster21; Bobboky; Gogolu; Maximillian1; Ciroth; Wonderbee31; prometheus; Anaerobie; Emperor Vanquest; idrinkstellaartois123; and finally Isis the Sphinx. I really appreciate all the comments and feedback.
Now, for everyone's least favorite part: Questions and Answers
Q: I just have to say though that the name Bill Hogs gets to me for some reason, not sure why but it does.
A: Not really a question, but I sympathized so thought to answer. I didn't like the name either, and I came up with it. He was shuffled through a bureaucracy, for better or worse. The first name of course came from the girls. Since he had no last name, a bureaucrat simply applied the first name from Hogwarts Valley. At least they had enough courtesy to leave off the Warts part. But yeah, it was intentionally an off-putting name.
Q: A warning (from a reader, for whatever that's worth): Please don't drop a whole lot of "names" on us so quickly. Yes, it's interesting to see what happened to Deanna, Naomi, Annika, (Miles and Keiko's son) Kirk, and so on, but force-feeding us so many, so quickly almost feels like you're doing it for the sake of telling us what happened to everyone after their respective series.
A: 1) Thanks for dropping by. I read and thoroughly enjoyed Chattel and highly recommend your other stories as well. In fact, the entire Fan.... 2) Now that that's out of the way--as I indicated in the previous chapter, I'm trying my best to make sure those names that do pop up have a reasonable link to Harry's story. Hence no Chakotay, Geordi LaForge, etc. Those names that do have a role have that role for a reason and will be featued sufficiently to hopefully limit the amount of name confusion readers may have.
Q: I just wonder when Q is going to notice...
A: This actually goes back to Crys's point. I could not come up with a reasonable and appropriate role for Q in the context of this story. I did have Amanda, the young Q in a previous draft, but that line didn't go anywhere. Adding Q would just be sort of gratuitous.
Q: I just want to see Harry do some magic and start getting his memory back, starting with his name.
A: Yeah, a bit to go on that. I know it's going slow, but on the other hand I'm updating weekly, so we'll get there eventually. Promise.
Q: Also, what happened to reveal the existance of Hogwarts Valley?
A: It's a dead valley. No wards of any kinds, just the ruins of the castle and the devastated valley around it. However, ST canon does have psychics, and Hogwarts was most definitely haunted, so those who did wander by to look at the last nuclear impact of WWIII and had a tough of magic or psychic abilities noticed the haunting, and its repulation grew until it was considered the most haunted place on earth.