Magical World and many characters belong to J. .
Notes: Harry's adult children: Victoria, Margaret, James and Beth. Adam Bourne is his stepson.
Chapter 9:
It was another month before the two week trip was organised, and then Julie upset Harry considerably by demanding that she should go, as she'd always wanted to see Turkey. Harry tried to say that she shouldn't, that it could be dangerous, that he'd be home every evening, and even tried to say that he'd have to ask Jebedee, and Jebedee would probably say no.
Julie smiled smugly, and told him that she'd gone to see Barbara, and that Barbara was coming for a few days, too, and would like her company. She also pointed out that it couldn't be that dangerous, as it was a popular tourist destination, and that Nerrissa Malfoy had visited only the previous year.
Harry gave in, as Julie expected. He always gave her what she wanted... He did try once more, "You're carrying a baby. Don't you think you'll get too tired?"
Julie smiled condescendingly, "I'm not even five months yet, and I've never felt better in my life."
Harry went to see Jebedee. He thought that if she insisted on going, that Julie should have her own protectors. Maybe Jason and Melissa Wiley, at his own expense. But Jebedee said calmly that it was no problem, that Julie would probably be happy to stay with Barbara, and might even consent to come home with her after the first week.
Harry was happier after this visit. He was probably exaggerating the danger only because of his own experiences. After all, Julie wasn't going to be trying to cure maniacal pumpkin-heads.
It was a large gathering when the day came to leave for Turkey. There was not an inexperienced auror in sight. Jebedee had changed his mind about female aurors, seeing that Julie Potter and Barbara Bancroft would be with them, and Beryl and Maureen had been assigned, especially to look after the women. There was also Franz, second in command, David, Anthony, Dean and Byron. Harry knew all these, but there were two whom he had not previously met, both originally recruited from America, Brad and Richard.
Harry looked at the array of experienced men and women who would be accompanying them. "I hope there's no trouble at home," he said, "There can't be many left!"
Jebedee replied that it had been quiet for years, and the numbers could be spared.
It wasn't Harry's worry, and Barbara had already taken Julie under her wing.
Their hotel was very nice indeed, in the tradition of top class international hotels. It had its own indoor pool, spa, and gymnasium, and there was a shopping centre underneath, which should suit Julie nicely, Harry thought fondly. Julie adored shopping.
Julie was enjoying herself. She felt so well, and Barbara was so interested in her. She chattered about Harry and their home, until Barbara started thinking that with the information handed her by Julie, the Ministry could probably quite easily find it. But Barbara liked Harry, and agreed with Jebedee when he had said once that no efforts should be made to find Harry's home, that he could live a long time, and that he would always have enemies.
For the next few days, Barbara visited important people in the mornings, and spent most of the afternoons with Julie, whom she found entertaining, if sometimes rather foolish. She did wonder what Harry saw in her, but there was no doubt that he doted on her. And when she and Julie accompanied by Beryl, David and Franz, came home from a shopping excursion, she watched in amusement as Julie excitedly showed Harry her purchases, and Harry watched her face with a quite obvious love. Harry had murmured in her ear then, and Julie had turned to him, smiling, gathered up her bundles, and they had gone off to their room for an hour. Barbara thought it was charming.
Work went pretty much the same as usual, although, as previously in Turkey, there were a lot more women patients than usual. Harry had to work his telepathic cures several times, and nearly always it was tolerated. Only once did he find his cheek slashed with some long fingernails, and he was very grateful that Catherine was able to heal it instantly and painlessly with a white lotion, leaving him only with minor and quickly fading marks.
Thursday morning, Barbara and Julie turned up wanting to observe, to Harry's consternation. He wasn't worried about Barbara, but he knew that Julie hated to see evidence that he was not as other wizards. He had no choice, though. If Barbara hadn't been there, he might have been able to claim that Jebedee wouldn't allow it. As it was, he put on an insincere smile, and said that, of course, they were welcome.
Barbara looked at him narrowly. She was quite good at detecting insincerity. But once resigned, Harry was perfectly hospitable, even conjuring a couple of special chairs for them, which Barbara and Julie, who was finally beginning to feel her pregnancy, sank into with sighs of relief.
To his relief, there seemed to be only perfectly standard patients, dealt with quickly and easily. Julie became bored, but Barbara was fascinated, and insisted that they join the team for lunch, and watch them again afterward.
At lunch, Barbara told Harry and Julie that there were a few dignitaries invited for dinner, including the Turkish Minister for Magic. But that there was no need for Harry and Julie to come if they chose not to. Julie said instantly that of course, they would be there. Her new outfit, bought the previous day, would be just the thing. Harry made no objection, to the amusement of Jebedee and Franz who were close.
Most of the other aurors prowled around at varying distances, watching, alert. But there appeared to be no threats, and both Jebedee and Franz had some faith in Harry to detect danger.
Harry and the others reported back after lunch to find pumpkin-heads everywhere. Harry was having a bad day. Julie watching when he didn't want her, a formal dinner that evening, and now pumpkin-heads. And these were Turks. They'd probably take ages to get things organised. But he went methodically around the pumpkin-heads and dismissed all but two. They were dead.
He had a word with Jebedee, then, who was sitting at a conjured table and chairs outside. Harry was pointing out that pumpkin-heads were dangerous, and that it would be best if there were no observers, especially not his pregnant wife.
Jebedee asked him, "Why don't you tell them, Harry?"
Harry replied, perfectly frankly, "You know why, women have always run rings around me!"
Jebedee laughed, but did his best, and the women ran rings around him, too. They would stay, and Harry would conjure a barrier to protect them, as they knew he could do.
Harry ran his hands through his hair, and turned his eyes to the sky. He really was having a bad day. And unexpectedly, two ambulance teams arrived, he had no excuse for delay.
The observers took their seats, and Byron, on Harry's request, conjured a see-through barrier to protect them. Beryl sat with them, all of them watching and waiting for Harry to work his miracles.
Barbara was saying to Julie what a remarkable wizard her husband was, and Julie was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable. She wanted Harry to be ordinary. She hadn't married the great wizard, she'd married the young man who had looked at her with his heart in his eyes, and wanted her, Julie Hibbard, for no particular reason that even Julie could see. For deep down, Julie knew she wasn't special. She was ordinary, and it was extraordinary that she could be loved so deeply.
The first pumpkin-head came in, and Harry conjured a flexible see-through barrier around him, to protect himself and the others. He put a time limit on it so that it would not become a problem if anything happened so that he was not available to vanish it. Maybe he should teach the aurors to do the barrier, although he'd never seen one like this until he'd done it himself.
He worked very hard at keeping the pumpkin-head calm, and the first wound up just sobbing as he was led away. It had taken a while. It was always harder to do a telepathic cure when there was a barrier, and pumpkin-heads were telepathic cures.
The second pumpkin-head took even longer, but appeared to be calm when Harry let down the barrier. The ambulance men took charge as Harry stood back.
He even turned his back talking to Catherine, when the wizard who had been a pumpkin-head suddenly caught sight of him, his calm vanished, and Harry found himself being strangled. He blasted the man off with magic, but leaned against the wall, coughing, and trying to breathe, as Byron and Brad fought to control the maddened wizard. Finally a spell of Deep Calm was imposed by the mediwizard.
Julie had screamed as Harry was attacked, and Harry tried to tell her that he was fine, but as his words were interrupted by a renewed bout of coughing, she was still distressed. As soon as Barbara vanished the safety barrier that had protected them, she raced over to Harry, holding him, and telling him that he must never again do anything that put him in danger.
Catherine was watching them both as she pulled out a lotion from her bag. She thought she was beginning to understand the dynamics of this relationship, and hoped that it would last. She didn't think it would be Harry that stopped loving Julie, but Julie might stop loving Harry. He was too different.
The bruised throat was soon treated. Harry had been a lot worse hurt than that in the course of his spell-breaking, and took it for granted. Jebedee later severely rebuked Byron and Brad for their slowness, though, and reminded all the aurors that they had to be constantly alert for attacks on Harry.
At the dinner that evening, Harry spent a lot of time talking to some Turkish researchers who had been invited especially. Saturday, those interested were to visit the cave of the Xinistrium. They gave him another medal, too. Something with a long name, that Harry heard as the medal of the blue-assed fly, but he thought that was probably not quite right.
Julie was thrilled, and Harry, after his usual insincere sentence of gratified acceptance, handed it over to her. Julie examined it repeatedly, and proudly showed it off to all the others.
Barbara was returning home on Sunday, and Harry went to her privately, and asked her to please try and get Julie to go home as well. Barbara agreed, but stated that she didn't really understand why, that there were many tourists here, and it didn't seem all that dangerous. None of the other tourists had bodyguards to ensure their safety. Harry just ran his hands through untidy hair, and said that he'd be happier if Julie was home.
The next day, Barbara, Catherine, Julie and an assortment of aurors joined Harry and the Turkish researchers, as they toured the cave of the Xinistrium. Harry had his transcriber in hand, that took notes for him, as he murmured to it, or sometimes just thought to it.
But after a while he stopped, and when it was time to go, he did not object. Afterward, he wandered over to Catherine, and asked quietly, "What did you think?"
Catherine was frowning, "Over-rated, I thought, even a bit suspect."
"I thought so, too. Possibly a large part faked. Adam'll be disappointed."
But then Julie was looking at them, and Harry returned to her. Julie had been very bored by the hours they'd spent admiring some ancient relics, and had spent her time flirting with a couple of the aurors instead. Not that she was the slightest bit serious. It was still Harry who was the focus of her life.
As promised, Barbara tried to persuade Julie to return with her, even saying that she always became nervous on muggle flights, and needed someone to be with her.
Julie was a touch suspicious. Two of the aurors were to return with Barbara, and she'd shown no sign of nervousness on the way over. When she made friends with a group of tourists who would be around for a few days yet, she decided definitely to stay a while longer. They were booked in for some entertaining tours, and extra tickets were available.
Jebedee listened carefully to her plans, and allocated both Beryl and Maureen to stay with her, getting tickets also if necessary. She should be fine, and she had two aurors with her if anything happened.
Everything went smoothly for the next couple of days. Julie enjoyed the company of the hospitable American tourists, and took no notice of Harry, who asked her again to return home. Harry was having nightmares more often, but Julie just soothed them away whenever he started muttering and fidgeting, and neither put any significance on them, Harry usually not even remembering them.
Wednesday, and only one more day to go to Harry's relief. It seemed that he was doing nearly all women now, and a few children. Apparently the adult males were more important and had taken priority. Harry was beginning to think that he might be a touch stronger again than he'd once been. There were a couple of patients for whom he had expected to need the strong magic, but cured instead with just a little extra effort, intensified only slightly and very cautiously above the norm. As always, the vast majority were cured with a glance.
Julie had gone off shopping with a couple of the American tourists who had a free day. But Harry knew that Beryl and Maureen were to be with them, and Jebedee had told him that David and Franz were also keeping watch. It was a large allocation from his numbers of aurors, but Harry was grateful, and said not a word to discourage him.
Julie and the muggles turned up to join them for lunch, which was luckily in a muggle area, as Julie didn't seem to have much idea of discretion. Harry was quizzed about his job, but Franz took over, and explained the plans for an industrial development that they were working on until Susan and Kate's eyes started to glaze over with boredom, and they made sure not to ask any further questions.
Soon after lunch, Harry was again in the work room as the patients were led in, one after another, cured and dismissed. Anthony and Richard were with him, Jebedee outside, plus a couple more who had joined them Sunday. Jebedee still didn't trust the Turks for any help.
Soon after lunch, Harry started to pace between patients, feeling uneasy, until he called a short break and left the room, leaving his cape draped across a chair, the wand still in the pocket. He found Jebedee just outside, talking to the two new aurors. Jebedee glanced at him, dismissed the aurors, and Harry told him that he was just going to check on Julie, and would no doubt be back in five minutes.
Jebedee was instantly alert. But Harry was gone before Jebedee had a chance to question him further, or could give him one of the devices that the aurors used to call for help.
Silently, Harry apparated into a crowded alleyway, causing a couple of people to start back in surprise, before thinking that they obviously just hadn't noticed him before. It was clustered with fascinating shops, and Harry quickly spotted Julie with the two muggles, gathered at an antique store. Harry opened his mind to the minds of the people who clustered around the women, but the only hint of a threat was from a lecherous middle-aged man who was doing his best to get close enough to grope the bottom of blonde Susan.
Harry wondered where the aurors were, but Julie had suddenly decided she was tired of having them around, and had slipped them straight after lunch, just like Harry had so often done. There was no threat apparent, there were many other tourists around, and Harry followed them a few minutes, indecisive. Susan and Kate walked ahead a little as they turned into a larger street, while Julie paused at a shop hung with bright materials. Harry sped up to talk to her. She was next to where several people waited at a bus stop. A local bus was just pulling up.
The bomb blast killed nearly all of those people, most of those on the bus, and injured many more.
Julie and Harry were both among the injured, Julie screaming in agony with the shrapnel that had entered her abdomen, but Harry, whom she'd just that moment seen, lying inert, knocked out, and bleeding heavily from deep cuts on his legs.
When Harry finally woke that evening, he was one of dozens lying on thin mattresses on the floor. The cuts on his legs had been stitched up, and his head was bandaged. His nose wrinkled. The place smelled dreadfully. His next alarmed thought was for Julie, and he opened his mind and searched. She wasn't far away, and he could feel that she was resting, but in pain.
He pulled himself to his feet, discovering quickly that he was naked, and that his legs were very sore. He felt the damage, knew that it wasn't serious, and healed the cuts. Then he conjured himself some clothes, in dull colours for a change, and dressed, only staggering now and then.
The patient lying next to him watched him, but his gaze was dulled with pain and with illness, and Harry ignored him. A very over-worked nurse saw him as he left, but took no notice. Many people were moving around, looking for missing relatives, hoping that they would not find them among the dead, in a temporary morgue down the passage.
Harry had his mind fixed on Julie as he headed unerringly toward the better ward where foreigners and tourists had mostly been put. He paused beside one mattress, where a badly injured man lay. Instead of pain and shock, his mind was full of satisfaction and anticipation. This man firmly believed that he would be rewarded by Allah for his work with the bomb. But Harry could feel that he was dying, and passed him by.
Julie was in a bed. She turned pain filled eyes to Harry, and said accusingly, "My baby's dead. You were supposed to protect me."
"Julie," said Harry, his heart breaking for his wife.
There was no forgiveness in her eyes. "They took away my womb. I'll never be able to have children. Why did you bring me to this place?"
Harry took her hand, and she clasped it tight as she was swept with another wave of pain. After a while, a nurse came, and gave her an injection. Julie went to sleep.
Harry gently removed his hand from hers, and stood. He had a job to do. But first he called Jebedee, telepathically, and told him that they had been in a bomb blast, the information having been fed to him by numerous minds as he passed. That he was all right, but that Julie needed help, and he didn't know about Susan and Kate.
But Kate and Sue were already back at the hotel. Kate had a few cuts and bruises, but Sue was totally unhurt, her body shielded by a man who had just grabbed her bottom. The man was killed, messily.
Harry waited a little until he felt the presence of Franz and Catherine who were approaching, scanning the faces of each patient as they did. And then he slipped past them, cloaking himself in invisibility, as he could do. Merely a matter of filling the surrounding minds with a perception that he should not be noticed.
He returned to the dying man who had triggered the bomb, from a distance a little too close for his own safety. Harry was lucky. With the man was another, wearing the garb of a religious cleric, and, like the first man, filled with satisfaction that he had destroyed lives for the glory of Allah.
Harry carefully felt his mind. There were five men, he thought, in the terrorist cell, not counting those who only followed orders. Harry knew this man now, and would be able to feel his presence, and apparate to him. And when the man took a taxi, and could no longer be followed on foot, that's what he did.
The five were gathered in a small room around a table, drafting a proclamation of responsibility for the successful bombing. The room reeked of fanaticism. They leapt up with gabbles of alarm as Harry silently appeared in the room.
Harry exerted his will, and five men sat down again, suddenly calm. He picked up the paper on the table, taking in its meaning from the mind of the leader, as it was not in a language he knew sufficiently well to read. He decided that they would make a new proclamation. This time they still admitted to responsibility for the bombing, but said that Allah had appeared to them and explained that he did not condone the killing of any person, infidel, tourist, or even American. And that Allah had promised to admit them to the glory of paradise, but that with the message delivered, no other who killed in his name would be admitted to Paradise.
He filled the minds of the five fanatics with the bliss of their religion, and then they died, methodically, one by one. And just in case, he checked carefully for cameras. He had no wish to be held accountable for these killings.
Harry Potter had killed again, and thought himself fully justified. Those men were never going to change their minds, they had killed scores that day, including Harry and Julie's unborn baby, and the world was better with them dead.
Harry didn't really expect that anyone would believe that Allah had appeared to them, on the other hand, he had a very low opinion of the intelligence of religious fanatics.
Job done, he felt again for Julie, and apparated back into their own hotel room, where Catherine was treating her. Julie looked at him, and spat, "Get away from me!" Beryl was with them, inconspicuous in the corner of the room.
Jebedee found Harry in the sitting room that had been allotted to the group. He still had a bloodstained, and not very clean bandage around his head, and was in awkward looking clothes. He stared into the distance, scarcely noticing when Jebedee joined him.
"Harry?" Jebedee said, and gently, "Catherine's waiting for you."
Harry obeyed, and Catherine removed the bandage and healed the head wound. She was having to bully him a little, as he didn't want to take off his clothes, saying that he wasn't hurt.
"Do it, Harry," ordered Jebedee, and Harry took off his clothes.
Catherine checked him over thoroughly, and then got out her lotions. He was bruised in many places, there was still a lot of blood smeared on his thighs, and he had healed one of the cuts crookedly.
"That'll scar," she said, almost talking to herself.
Harry took it in dully. Another scar to add to the collection. Would Julie forgive him?
But Catherine read his mind. "Don't worry about Julie, she'll be all right. She's just being a touch unreasonable now, from the shock and grief."
Harry looked at her. "Will she really be all right?"
Catherine said firmly, "She'll be all right. She's already admitted that it wasn't your fault, so go and hold her hand for a while. It will be all right."
So Harry went and held Julie's hand for a while, and she squeezed it and said that she was sorry, she shouldn't have blamed him. But it wasn't really all right, and wouldn't be for a long time.
Thursday afternoon, the team were back at work, Maureen and Beryl staying with Julie, and Catherine checking in at every break. Harry was fully recovered, and as quick and competent as always, although it was obvious that he wasn't paying much attention. But that was nothing new, the patients were cured, and none of them complained.
Friday afternoon, a day late, they concluded the work, and were able to return to England. Julie had had the benefit of Catherine's healing spells and lotions, and was fit to apparate. They were both very relieved to be home.
**x**
Julie was moping around the house and Harry was very worried. He had a week off after Turkey, and hung around her, trying to anticipate her wishes, wishing he could fix things for her as easily he did for his spell-bound patients. He had once fixed a man who had been castrated, but the castration had been by his own magic, and he didn't know himself how he had fixed him. He knew that he could not magically fix this injury, as he had not been able to magically cure the cancer that Luna had suffered from.
Julie was grieving. It was not just for the unborn baby that she'd lost, it was for the total loss of the hope of ever having another. And it was also because of Harry. Harry had been supposed to look after her, and he had failed her. She knew logically that there was nothing that Harry could have done, that it was even a very rare thing that he'd been able to find her as she walked toward the bomb, but deep inside, she blamed him anyway.
Tuesday that week, Harry saddled and bridled Lady, in her fancy and ornate harness, whistled up Kinsman and leapt easily onto his bare back as usual, and persuaded Julie to join him for a ride.
They rode gently around the perimeter track, until Julie suddenly said that she wanted to go onto the moors, that she wanted to go very fast. Harry understood the feeling, and suggested a different horse. Kentucky could go fast, so Harry saddled the chestnut instead, and together Julie and Harry galloped hard across the moors. Galloping until the horses' sides heaved, and Julie's misery lessened.
Harry was a firm believer in the healing powers of horses, and they rode every day, galloping on the moors, not using the mares, as they were all in foal now, including Clarice who had also fancied the little Pinto. The only work that Harry did that week was a quick stint in Ben's office, cleaning up the patients that Cissy had failed. Cissy had largely taken over this job now, being able to quite easily organise a weekly session around her training. She was nearly finished her fourth and final year.
In July, for the first time in quite a few years, Harry attended a formal function that Julie didn't drag him to, a Graduation Dinner at St. Mungo's. Cissy was a qualified mediwizard. For a few years, she planned to work at St. Mungo's for the wide experience she needed. Later, she thought, she might try and take over a lot of Harry's overseas work, which, she knew, Harry would welcome. Maybe she could do the bulk of the work, and Harry could just come on the last day to clean up those she had missed.
Try as she might, there were still some that Harry could do without the slightest worry, and that she could not. Harry thought that it was more because she could not as clearly feel the spell as he could, rather than lack of power. She had not been able to master the telepathic cures at all. It seemed she just didn't have the required talents of telepathy. Neither could she break the spells of those for whom Harry needed that little extra power that observers felt as a tingle in the air, and she had no capability equivalent to the power that Harry had, to call up the strong magic that used to mean that, for years, Harry did not have a failure. But Harry had been a lot older than twenty-one when he first found that he could do that.
Straight after the Graduation Dinner, Harry took Julie with him for an indefinite holiday at his favourite beach in California. It was near to where the team always stayed for the first week of their annual three weeks in America, and not far from Zefron School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Sarah knew not to arrange any further overseas trips until he let her know, and only organised into some sort of order of priority those requests she was getting.
On the surface, for a few weeks, it seemed that everything was all right between Harry and Julie. Almost straight away, they had resumed their sex life, as Julie as well as Harry found a need for the closeness, as well as for the physical release. Harry's birthday came a week into the holiday, and she bought him an expensive set of dress robes, as well as a couple of vivid touristy shirts that she planned to let him wear for just the time they were on holiday. She had no intention of allowing him to wear them where anyone they knew might see.
Whenever he had a birthday, his actual age was never mentioned. On this birthday, he was seventy-eight, but his lithe, strong body showed just how abnormal he was. And Julie hated abnormalities.
One day, as he settled himself into his familiar conjured easy chair for the habitual hour's morning meditation, she waited until his thoughts were far away, and, quite deliberately, she dropped a metal tray loaded with crockery on the floor. The crash made him jump, ruined the quiet time, and left him with a fit of trembling, which she regarded with a look of scorn.
He never said a word of criticism to her, but went to a different room from then on. Even then, he was not immune to disturbance, as she would often follow him, sometimes to make apparently casual conversation, sometimes deciding that she needed to do some noisy activity in that very room. Harry gave it up for a time. It didn't really seem essential any more.
But then there was something else. She became pettish and irritable, refusing him sex. And one day he came home from walking along the beach, and found her having sex with a man she'd met a few days before. Harry had appeared quietly, and the man hadn't even noticed that he was there.
Julie looked at him from under the man, and her eyes were half closed in passion, but there was also a spark of hatred. The man was still engaged in sex, Julie was obviously engaged in revenge. Harry went back to the beach where he sat and thought.
He loved Julie. The physical act of sex with another man seemed minor to him, but her motives were major. She wanted to hurt him. He wanted to keep her. When he went back to her, an hour later, the man was gone, and he tried to talk to her. But she looked at him with spiteful eyes, and he went and made a cup of hot chocolate for her instead. She liked hot chocolate. Julie was hurting, and he refused to hurt her more by turning against her.
In the next few weeks, it seemed as if she tried harder and harder to make him hate her. There were more men, random men, nearly always where he would be sure to see them. Harry wished he could just make love with her, and everything would be all right, but she was no longer interested in love-making with her husband.
He began to be in trouble. One day, he found himself walking along the beach harder and harder, frantically, trembling when he finally returned in exhaustion. He walked past her, where she sat smiling at yet another man, to their bedroom.
Right at the bottom of his suitcase, where he always kept it, was the monitor he'd invented, a shabby red book that showed a few significant readings, and a sensor device that looked like a watch. Slipping on the watch-band, he saw straight away what he feared. The spiking of the LV and energy readings that were a warning of a nervous attack, and the warning of a fit, although that was not yet close. He crossed his fingers that she wouldn't interrupt him, and sat in his chair to think it away.
In the other room, the man had finished his coffee, and was feeling distinctly uneasy. Julie had casually admitted that the man who had entered the little holiday flat was her husband, and the ordinary looking man couldn't work out why she had seemed interested in himself. That man had been wearing only a brief pair of shorts, with a towel draped across his shoulder, and even though he carried a cane, Paul profoundly envied the beautifully defined muscles of back and shoulders. Maybe he was gay, and shortchanging his wife. All the same, he didn't have the gall to cuckold a man who was apparently sitting quietly in the next room.
Harry was getting on top of the problem. The monitor, as yet unobserved, was showing a lessening of the sinister spiking of the readings.
Julie, her man gone, entered the room, and just looked. He had his head leaned back, his eyes closed. Julia knew what he was doing, although he'd never really explained why he tried to do it every morning. She thought it abnormal, but in her love, had put up with it. But now she was filled with an overwhelming feeling of spite. She went across to him, and kicked him as hard as she could on the leg.
Harry jumped violently, the trembling was instantly there again, and still he did not rebuke his wife. Maybe he was a fool.
He went out again, trembling more violently than before, and depending on his cane to keep his balance. This time he swam, and again he started to bring it under control, finally beating it with a session of meditation, discreetly hidden among some bushes next to the beach.
There was one thing that gave him hope. She may be refusing him sex, but they still slept together, and she would often move close to him, and cling to him in the night. He waited. No matter what, he loved her. It was hard to say whether she knew how much she was hurting him when she sabotaged his attempts at meditation, or refused him the sex his body needed.
On the first of September, Julie suddenly declared that she wanted to go home. Twenty-four hours later, they were home, leaving the little flat abruptly vacated.
Harry wore the wrist-band sensor all the time now. He was having a great deal of trouble keeping the condition under control, although except for that difficult engagement, he'd had no problems for many years. Four times more, Harry had real problems, and the threat of a fit had been very real that last time.
One Sunday, he finally admitted to Julie that he could become very sick if she didn't, at least, allow him his hour's meditation. He found it more difficult to concentrate when he had to hide from her. The familiar chair, and the familiar surroundings helped him to concentrate. He still did not say that he needed sex. He felt she had a perfect right to refuse if she chose, whether or not it hurt her husband.
Julie looked at him, tears came to her eyes, and she apologised. A little later, he found her crying into the fur of Sambo, the enormous black dog that Chrissy had found to replace Jimbo. And yet, the next time he tried to ward off a nervous attack, another loud crash interrupted his concentration.
Old Milly was theoretically the cook, although these days, she did no work, but sat in a comfortable chair in the warmth of the stove and bossed around her niece. Lately she'd started to use the swimming pool, letting herself gently down the steps, and allowing the water to soothe the aches of old bones. When she saw the boss enter, trembling, and dive in to lap the pool again and again, swiftly and almost frantically, she pulled herself out of the pool, and had a look in the loungeroom. An old leather book lay open on the table. She knew exactly what it was, although only a portion of Genesis rewarded curious eyes.
She called Hermione. For years, Hermione had been insistent that Harry's staff go over his head, if necessary, and call her if they thought he was in trouble. Her duty done, Milly hobbled back to the kitchen.
Hermione arrived, but she took nearly half an hour. Although she still apparated, in spite of her age, it was a fair walk from the Apparation Zone to the house. There was another area within the house that she knew of open to apparation, but she disliked it as it needed a lot of precision. She was afraid that she was beginning to lose her precision.
Hermione entered the house that she knew very well by now. There was no-one in the loungeroom. The monitor was still there, though, and she saw the severe spiking, and indications that a fit was imminent, and was very concerned. More and more worried, she looked for Harry. She saw Julie, who seemed to be sorting out clothes. There were baby clothes in a heap on the floor. But Harry was nowhere to be seen.
Milly was in the kitchen, a black and white cat on her knee.
"Where's Harry?" asked Hermione. "He's not in the swimming pool, or in the lounge room or his bedroom."
Milly answered in tones that no-one else would have dared, "Hiding from that nasty young wife of his, I daresay."
Hermione stared at her in bafflement. She knew of the incident in Turkey, and the loss of the baby, but she had heard nothing of problems between Harry and Julia.
She went back to the loungeroom, and watched the monitor. The spiking was becoming less, and the risk of a fit was diminishing. Wherever he was, Harry was controlling it. Hermione continued watching carefully, until there was a loud crash, and suddenly the spiking was back, and a fit was imminent. Even the consciousness indicator jumped.
Hermione picked up the monitor and followed the noise, finding Julie with a pile of heavy books at her feet, and Harry confronting her, shaking and trembling violently. Hermione could scarcely believe that Julie had quite deliberately sabotaged Harry's attempts to control the old condition. But Julie was looking at him with an expression of absolute spite on her face.
"Harry." said Hermione commandingly, "Come with me."
She took him to the bedroom, firmly locked the door with the aid of magic, and asked him what it was to be, "A stunning or a fit."
Harry was reluctant, pacing the floor, and running his hands through his mop of black hair. "I can control it, I know I can, if she'd only leave me alone!"
Hermione took no notice. "Look at the monitor, Harry. I have to do it. Stay still."
He turned to her and stood still for the stun spell that would save him from a fit. Fits had done terrible damage to him in the past. Harry Potter was terrified of fits.
Will was called, picked him up from the floor, and put him in the bed. Hermione would not allow Julie close, and Harry's staff did exactly what she said. But when Harry woke, he over-ruled her, and Julie cuddled him in bed, and soothed away a beginning nightmare.
Hermione didn't understand it, and finally talked to Margaret, who sent an urgent message to Beth.
Harry was exercising in his gymnasium when Beth and her daughter Kate arrived. Kate was seven now, and a very beautiful girl. It was to the surprise of Beth, who was so plain, but Kate had slanting green eyes, black hair, and a sparkling, flashing smile, that lit up her brown face. She was like an exotic flower.
Harry thought things were improving between himself and Julie. She had abruptly changed her mind, and they had made love the previous few nights. She had left him alone when he meditated, and they had galloped together on the moors.
Harry welcomed Beth and Kate, not knowing that Meg had called them in because of her concern for him.
Beth looked at him carefully. He was certainly too thin again, but there didn't seem much else wrong with him on the surface, but she found that his mind was guarded from her. She knew that she could look at his mind if she chose anyway, but didn't. People must be allowed their privacy. Besides, he'd probably feel her and be very annoyed.
Kate ran about the property, looking at the horses, especially Kintu with her latest foal, which bucked and played in the pleasure of being young. The place seemed over-run with horses now, but Harry said rather defensively that Melissa and Jason, and Jimmy Carr all rode them, as well as Julie sometimes. Also Cissy on the occasions when she came home.
Beth watched him with amusement. It seemed to her that in some ways, Harry might never grow up. In other ways, he had a maturity that most people never attain.
Kate had a request. She didn't care that it was nearly lunchtime, and that they hadn't unpacked or even chosen bedrooms for their stay, she wanted a ride on the pretty little yellow horse. Harry was agreeable. "Beth?"
Beth pointed to Senorita, Cissy's horse.
"Fine," said Harry. "She's in foal, so we shouldn't gallop her, but a little exercise will do her good. Cissy'll be happy for you to borrow her."
Julie watched them go, and her eyes were narrowed in spite again. She knew she was being silly and wicked, and she couldn't seem to help it. That evening, she told Harry that she had a headache, and later, when he started into a nightmare, she pulled herself to the other side of the bed and watched as he became increasingly agitated, and finally woke with a violent start, flinging himself out of bed, flooding the room with light, and trembling violently.
Her face showed a vengeful satisfaction as Harry got to his feet, still trembling, picked up his cane, and said to her, even his voice shaking, that he was going for a walk.
As in years gone by, Beth, too, was woken by his nightmare. The alarm and panic that he felt seemed to rip through the house. Wrapped in a dressing gown against the chill, she was in time to see him setting off out the door. He was unguarded now, and she felt his sorrow and concern for his wife, overlaying the worries of a nervous attack that he had to fight off.
Harry was all right this time, soothing the need for exercise with his long walk, and finishing with an hour in his chair in the loungeroom before returning to bed. He knew himself so well by this time that he didn't even bother checking the monitor.
Beth found him the following day, in a back paddock, talking to a couple of aged horses. She knew them - one was Fraidy Cat, whom she'd ridden herself so often. There was Lockerbie, too, a tall ex-racehorse, very old now. They were still valued, still pampered, although no longer ridden. A warm shelter had been built in the paddock, that they could enter and leave whenever they wished.
"What's she trying to do to you, Dad?" asked Beth.
Harry turned, leaning his back against the strong fence, his eyes following Kate in the distance. She was playing at a small water hole with the two Barnes children.
"She's hurting. I let her down, and she can't quite forgive me."
Beth didn't say that it made no sense, she knew that strong emotions often made no sense. "You might have to leave her. She's going to kill you if you're not careful."
"She won't kill me - and I'll never leave her."
An hour later, he was watching Jimmy Carr, who was engaged in giving a riding lesson to the two sons of Chris. Kate, on Mustang, had joined in. The boys were on horses that appeared very big for them, but the only pony on the property was Mustang. And the children were firmly told that their backs should be straight, heels down, and all the rest.
The boss listened, although when he rode, he habitually leapt onto his horse bareback, legs dangling, shoulders rounded, and never paid the slightest attention to a 'correct' riding position.
Beth had been called for a reason. And although she scarcely knew Julie, Julie agreed when she suggested that they take out a couple of the horses for a ride on the moors. So Beth and Julie took the Andalusians, gently walking, and after a while, talking. They stopped in the shelter of a high stone fence, and sat on a conjured blanket as they looked at the beauty around them.
And after a while, after a long silence, Julie said abruptly, "I don't mean to hurt him, it just seems I can't help it!"
Beth's eyes were following a hawk in the distance. "You still love him?"
Julie nodded, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears, and she sobbed in the arms of the large and ungraceful woman, who could give such great comfort.
Julie was less unhappy after that, and she stopped trying to hurt her husband, whether or not he had let her down. Her husband was human, and Julie was growing up.
A couple of days later, Beth felt the joyousness of their lovemaking filling the air, in the middle of the day, from a hayshed near a back paddock. Beth smiled. She could go home soon. She was missing Jeremiah.
***chapter end***