Disclaimer: Ah, you know the drill.
A/N: When a horse is cantering, one pair of legs appears to move ahead of the other. If the horse is cantering clockwise, the right leg will lead. When the horse changes direction it will change the leading leg to the left leg (or canter awkwardly). With a relatively unschooled horse the rider will bring the horse down to a trot and then back into canter to change the leading leg. When the horse changes leading leg while staying at the canter, this is known as a flying change. At higher levels of dressage, some tests involve a series of flying changes on every other stride, and the horse looks as if it is dancing. I never managed that last one – I had enough trouble stopping my otherwise trusty pony, who loathed dressage, from jumping out of the arena. Sadly, that was not the kind of flying change the judges were looking for.
Shoulder-in: very basically this means that instead of travelling directly forward, the horse moves diagonally (eg travelling north-west while looking north). A horse will do a rough version of this on her own, for instance when coming over to get a carrot from her human while she's trying to keep her backside into the rain (horses prefer to face away from bad weather, and who can blame them?). For a better definition than I can give of any and all dressage movements, Google them or better yet go to YouTube.
Two whole points (yeah, feeling generous here) to the House of your choice if you spot a Monty Python reference. There's at least one deliberate one. Possibly more unintentional ones. They sneak up on you...
ooOOoo
Chapter 99: Flying Changes
With the wards down and the quarantine lifted, over the weekend Hogwarts was host to a stream of visitors that turned into a river. An expanding proportion of this river was composed not only of parents but politicians, medi-witches and -wizards, reporters, researchers from various departments of the Ministry, hangers-on, lost hikers, photographers, and an eclectic selection of people from all walks of life who thought it seemed like a good idea at the time to go to Hogwarts and see what all the fuss was about. Professor McGonagall tended to sort out the latter and made sure they thought long and hard about future good ideas. But even she couldn't get rid of all the undesirables.
For some reason there was a phenomenal number of people who thought they had a Merlin-given right to annoy the back teeth out of Harry Potter simply because they could find him. Like Cornelius Fudge, for example, who had all number of wonderful suggestions for keeping the Boy Who Lived Again safe now that Voldemort was no longer out for his blood (or any other part of his anatomy). Luckily Dumbledore ushered him and his retinue away before Harry could blow a blood vessel in a fit of irony.
By Sunday afternoon Harry was fast getting sick of the ones who wanted to congratulate him and give him awards and other fluff. Sometimes he wondered if his father had felt a shadow of this after getting the cup for not saving Severus. It had become so bad that this morning they had followed him out to see Simon, the one place he'd thought he would be safe to be himself. Whatever her reasoning, Luna was right about the wards on the fence: they didn't stand up to lots of people wanting to get past them. One witch actually sat on the gate, flicking her hair. It might have looked more alluring if there hadn't been a breeze blowing it into her eyes and mouth. Hair being spat out was not a sexy look.
Simon had sulked behind the barn and wouldn't come down to the gate. Belatedly realising that this was a good thing because all the people tagging around after Harry would start taking photos of a horse which had an opaque history of ownership and if photos were splashed around the papers the owner might step forward and Draco and Luna would never forgive Harry for that, Harry had decided to leave the horse to its own devices, and kept walking.
When an elderly warlock asked why Harry was up this way – was he interested in anything in the paddock? – Harry had quickly claimed that he hadn't been interested in anything up on Squirrel Hill other than the view, while in the privacy of his own head wished everyone surrounding him a fast trip to hell.
Harry would have asked Dumbledore to lay on some extra strong wards, but he hadn't had the nerve to go and see him yet.
Maybe he'd do that tomorrow.
Harry leaned back and crossed his legs. With the curtains pulled around his bed, it was easier to pretend he was alone in the world. If he was alone, he didn't have people coming up to ask what he was going to do on Tuesday when the school would finally close for the summer.
He had two days to sort out an alternative to number four, Privet Drive.
He tried to interest himself in his book again, but every time he came across a dog in it he thought of Sirius.
Bloody Sirius.
As of yesterday afternoon his case was back under review, yes. Harry had found that out this morning over breakfast from Hermione, who'd heard the news from Remus. Peter Pettigrew was in Ministry custody and listing Death Eaters as fast as he could squeal in his frantic efforts to get some sort of amnesty… which would happen over Harry Potter's dead body. But Sirius himself been avoiding Harry as much as Harry had been avoiding him. Whether or not Harry would be staying at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, was anyone's guess. While Sirius' original conviction was no longer legal, it didn't mean he was officially free. His case would need to be put before a court again – or for the first time, Harry remembered. Sirius had never had a proper trial the first time around. Where would he stay until he was declared not guilty?
Where would Harry stay?
The Burrow was still under repair, so although the Weasleys would have welcomed him, it would only make things harder for them. Much as he loved Hermione, he didn't think he could cope with a month of undiluted Granger study fever. He also had the nagging suspicion that he could be putting her Muggle parents in potential danger. Staying with wizards and witches who were well aware of Harry's fame/notoriety (delete according to allegiance to Dumbledore or Voldemort) and magically able to defend themselves was one thing. Muggles were too vulnerable. Had Luna asked her father and uncle about having Harry along with them on whatever summer expedition to far places they went on? Even Draco had made vague and vaguely-embarrassed noises about Harry being able to stay at Malfoy Manor if his Muggle relatives let him down again, but the idea of sharing a roof with Lucius made his skin crawl.
That plan of renting a quiet cottage with a field for Simon was looking more and more enticing the more he thought about it. Maybe he could find something close to the Burrow. Didn't Luna live down that way?
He thought of a meadow dotted with flowers, Simon grazing his way peacefully through it, tail swishing languidly at the occasional butterfly; Luna kissing Harry once the horse was out of chaperoning range; happy bunnies hopping through the grass –
No. Not the happy bunnies. Not if he wanted Luna in that picture.
"Coo-ee! Knock-kno-ock!? Harry Potter? Are you in here, dearie?"
Harry instantly recognised the predatory voice behind the smarmy words, and sucked in his breath in horror. Questions swarmed through his mind. Where was his wand? Where was a phial of that explosive potion Elmsworthy had given him? Poison? A holy hand grenade of Antioch? And the biggest question: How the hell had Rita Skeeter managed to get into the Gryffindor dormitories?
There was an irked sigh. "Could be in the shower… just in case he is, get your camera ready for the shot of the century, Brian. Think of it – Harry Potter: the exposé! It'd be front page all around the worl-"
"What are you doing up here?" a chilly voice demanded.
Hermione! Harry could have thrown the curtains back and kissed her, but wisely stayed put.
There was a malicious hiss that could have come from a basilisk but sounded like Skeeter. "The door was open –"
"No, it wasn't. You told a first year that he'd never get home to see his parents unless he gave you the password! Maybe you should… scuttle off and stop bugging people before Professor McGonagall gets curious about how you managed to get in. Go, and take your little photographic toad with you."
"You'll regret making an enemy of me, Granger."
Hermione snorted. "Really? I rather think you'll regret not being my friend."
Harry heard them moving off down the stairs. It sounded like three people and there was a lot of scolding going on, so he knew Hermione was shepherding them all the way out of Gryffindor Tower.
He untensed and breathed out. That was a narrow escape.
Safe for the now, he picked up his book again.
Rita Skeeter was bad enough. Even more embarrassing were the mothers of students who used the excuse of visiting their son or daughter to slip into the castle and tell Harry that what he needed was the loving experience of, ahem, a witch with some experience under her girdle. He'd nearly lost his lunch.
Luna hadn't been jealous. She'd been amused.
Harry had fumed. Shouldn't a regular girlfriend be put on the offensive, perhaps declaring her territory with public kisses and long walks in the meadows – a good place for kisses – and under leafy trees where the walks incorporated hand-holding and yet more kisses?
Luna had kissed him, yes, a chaste peck on the cheek (as he'd been eating chutney on cold meat for lunch at the time she could be forgiven), and then started to laugh when a witch with elongated eyelashes like the legs of mutated centipedes and a very low-cut robe had interrupted, asking for Harry's autograph.
Draco didn't help either.
Instead of going home like a few of the other students had managed to do, taking the first opportunity to get away from the school (and taking their autograph-hunting parents/siblings/aunts/uncles/great-grandparents/third-cousins-twice-removed/long-lost-best-friend-from-kindergarten-who-wanted-to-meet-Harry), Malfoy was sticking around like the proverbial bad smell. The Slytherin common room had been re-warded to muffle any hex or curse and there were so many spells to prevent blood being drawn from one Slytherin by another that Elmsworthy had been heard complaining that his potions were sulking, but there was still danger that a student could slip something through to do damage to someone from the other side of the war.
Someone had let slip that Draco had been just as involved in Voldemort's demise as Harry. Breakfast had turned ugly at one point, and Pansy Parkinson, two seventh years – one Slytherin, one Hufflepuff – and a bewildered Vincent Crabbe had been walked out by Professor Sprout and two Aurors and not returned. Draco, the flashpoint of the disagreement although Harry had been too far away to hear the specifics, was taking a risk sticking around while emotions were running so high, but when asked he shrugged off any speculation with the reply that Comrade Millicent would smash to a pulp the head of any fascist bully-boy with an inert, de-Spelled Beater's Bat.
Luna's opinion was that Draco wanted to make sure nobody came to claim Simon before he got his chance to do so, but Harry was sure that it was for the simple reason that without Draco there mightn't be anyone giving The Boy Who Lived Yet Again a hard time. He kept saying helpful things like: How is your fanclub going? and: Can I have your autograph please, Mr Harry Potter Famous Person?
Telling him this was so old its white hairs had white hairs didn't help.
Ron thinking Draco was being funny helped even less. Why hadn't Ron gone home? Hermione had been packing her bags – that must have been why she'd caught Rita Skeeter – what was wrong with Ron? What was wrong with Ron's family not to have taken him out of Harry's embarrassment? Well, yes, the Burrow was in a shambles after a Death Eater raid only two weeks ago and Molly and Arthur were probably going crazy getting everything back into rough order before Tuesday, but that was no excuse, not when Ron kept egging Malfoy on.
Traitors. Harry was surrounded by traitors.
He hunched his shoulders up against the headboard of his bed and turned to the next page of Animal Farm. He'd just got past the bit where Boxer was taken away in the van (this was the part Severus had found upsetting, he just knew it) and when he heard another pair of footsteps coming up the stairs to his bedroom he knew he was going to do something terrible to the next person who -
Knock knock.
– knocked on the door.
But it was Hermione, taking a break from packing and throwing out the rubbish. Harry was pretty sure he wasn't allowed to hex her. Apart from the bonds of friendship and what he owed her for defending him from Skeeter, she could hex him back with twice the imagination.
She pulled back one of the curtains, her eyes shining when she saw him reading. "Oh, Harry – you're reading Muggle literature!"
"If you say you're so proud of me for it, I'll never forgive you."
"I'd never do that. Even though I am. Look at you, reading a book without pictures!"
"If I didn't owe you such a huge favour for chucking out that cow I'd be sending a note to Crabbe telling him you want a date. Is it safe to come out yet, or should I hide under the bed?"
She tilted her head and smiled. "Don't worry – that horrible woman is gone. I've given a new password to the Fat Lady."
Harry nodded, wanting to be pleased, but still feeling a little cornered. It was one of those unfair things in life that she could come into his room and he couldn't go into hers because she was a girl. Maybe there were advantages to being a Dark Lord and Ruling the World… Harry would be an Equal Opportunities Dark Lord, something he really should look into later.
"Um, Harry? There's someone who wants to see you…"
"Oh, Merlin… I thought you'd been up here to pack."
"I finished ages ago. I was coming up to see you when I saw Rupert Everett and he told me about Skeeter. I think you'll want to see this person. Maybe there will be autographs involved."
Harry rolled his eyes.
Hermione laughed. She stopped when Harry glared at her, but he could see the laughter dancing in her eyes. "Coming?"
"I'll just get mobbed again."
"Oh, you might be surprised."
"I think I'd rather not have any more surprises today." He picked up his book.
Unusually, given that this was Hermione, a book was not an effective shield against the outside world. "Get up or I'll…. I'll…" Her grin turned evil. "I'll tell him to go away."
Intrigued, Harry closed the book and followed her downstairs and out through a side passage out of the castle. He cheered up almost immediately when he found himself outside without being thronged, but his suspicions were aroused when she led him down to the meadow where he'd watched Luna first riding Simon that long-ago mist-shrouded morning. High overhead a bird trilled a crisp tune. An easterly breeze was whispering through leaves and smelt faintly of pine, lifting his fringe to flop against his scar in a small reminder that his scar was truly inert now, but the air stilled and was sheltered down in the meadow.
Harry sighed as he and Hermione reached the bottom of the slope and strolled through the tall grass, relieved at arriving unmolested in this place which had joined the Quidditch pitch in his list of favourite spots. He didn't mind staying at Hogwarts, not really. When his unwanted fanclub was somewhere else Harry loved the place with an emotion so deep he didn't think it possible there could ever be another place on the planet for him. Simon didn't have an official home, and if he was kept here and Harry stuck around to keep an eye on things, well… maybe he could 'accidentally' throw any wizards who might be missing a tall, black, bad-tempered horse off the scent.
Luna was being annoyingly vague on the topic – queerly so given the fact that it was her beloved Simon's future in question – but now the few Aurors who'd been allowed up to Squirrel Hill had stopped bothering Simon (some of them nursing nasty bites after trying to check the spell in Simon's chest or committing the cardinal sin of taking out a wand in the horse's presence), Harry had a few plans that involved Hagrid, the caves Grawp had been hiding out in, and a bleaching potion to turn a black horse grey. If that failed, there were Draco's plans to fall back on. He didn't like the idea of stashing Simon with a friend of Narcissa's. That was only slightly better than leaving Simon at Malfoy Manor, something Harry wasn't going to give the nod to when that snake Lucius was on site, but he trusted Draco when it came to Simon's welfare and he suspected he could work well enough with Narcissa if he kept the principles of Horse Muttering in mind.
So long as Simon stayed with the people he belonged to, Harry didn't really mind where he was.
(But he really, really liked the idea of renting a little property somewhere, a few acres, and Luna could come every day…)
There were some people in the meadow already. A grey stone balanced on the end of the log they were sitting on gleamed in the sunlight.
One of the people was Draco. He turned his head and gave Harry a curt nod of welcome, then resumed his study of horse and rider.
Someone was out on Simon, slowly trotting circles. Harry shaded his eyes. Luna. She had her stirrups crossed in front on the saddle and her hands on her thighs rather than holding the leadrope of an unusually thin rope headcollar that was taking the place of the bridle, yet Simon seemed quite sure of where he was meant to go. The horse had his ears angled back as he concentrated on his rider. The long black tail swished like a counterbalance as it always did when his brain was working or there were flies around. No flies, so Simon must be thinking, and thinking hard. His hooves flashed in the sunlight – the lost shoe had been replaced: from the slight dullness of the metal it was iron rather than silver. Draco must have looted all the available silver for the first set.
The others watching Luna were Hooch, Trudi (who seemed to be quite happy sticking close to Draco even though he'd been outed as a traitor to Voldemort's cause and at least as big a target as Harry) and a man. Harry couldn't make out who it was from this angle; the man was half-hidden behind Hooch and had his back towards Harry. At first he thought it was Remus from the greying brown hair, but the shoulders were too broad and he was wearing Muggle blue jeans and a soft cotton shirt so worn that the Dursleys would have approved of it being given to Harry.
"Come on," said Hermione, still holding back a grin.
No.
No. It can't be.
… Can it be?
Oh Merlin! It is!
Harry felt a little faint, dizzy with the prospect of meeting someone he'd been wanting to see without knowing how strong the want had been.
The man stood as Harry and Hermione walked over to the little group, walked over to meet them and held out his hand. Harry took it and reminded himself that breathing was a good thing. What were all the stupid things people had been doing around him this weekend? He'd kill himself out of sheer and utter mortification if he did any of them now –
"Mr Python."
"Call me Rob."
"Oh. Okay. Um. I'm, I'm Harry."
"Pleased to meet you at last, Harry. Luna's told me a lot about you." For an insane moment Harry thought the man might be Luna's uncle. But no. He remembered Luna telling him once at her mother had taken her uncle on a course. Apparently the uncle had learned a lot from Mr Python. Robert Python – Rob – was a little older than the photographs in the book had shown, but his eyes were clear and just as calm. He nodded towards the horse and rider. "She says you're coming along just fine as a Mutterer."
"Did she?" Harry was trying not to blush. "That's kind of her, but really, I've only been practising for a month…"
"I've been practising for a lifetime, and there's always more to learn. So long as you've got patience, and Luna tells me you've got a whole mountain of that."
"It… it helps to have a good horse."
Rob smiled. His mouth didn't shift much, but the creases around his eyes deepened with the sort of all-encompassing approval Harry had only ever seen in Dumbledore. "That it does. You've done one heck of a job, Harry. May I offer my sincerest congratulations to you as I've already done to Draco."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Well, the horse was already trained – all I did was take a few riding lessons from Luna, and she – oh, you meant Voldemort."
Draco, just within earshot, was rolling his eyes. Luckily Hermione hadn't heard – she was chatting with Trudi.
Rob nodded. "Poor man."
Harry was surprised. "He brought it on himself a bit," he offered, trying not to sound callous.
"True. Free will is a great and a terrible thing. But to be so twisted by fear of death… That is a thing to pity."
Harry looked away, remembering the Forest reaching out with Harry's hand and voice and magic to remove Voldemort from the world. "Perhaps he'll be better off," he said softly, not wanting the others to hear.
He looked up again and met the Mutterer's eyes. Some recognition passed from them to Harry. "Perhaps he will," Rob replied.
They went and sat down. Harry spared a glance for the stone. It was a smooth grey river pebble with a shut eye painted on it. Odd. It radiated magic like warm embers and when Harry looked over his shoulder back towards the castle and saw a few people going about their business without deciding that he should be central to it, guessed that it could be some sort of warding stone. That curved centipede with all the legs down one side missing could be a shut eye.
"Luna thought you might want a bit of peace," said the Horse Mutterer.
Harry smiled. "Absolutely."
There was a small movement from the shadows that caught Harry's eye. Snuffles, lying in the shadow of the log. He hoped Rob hadn't noticed his quick frown. "Simon's looking a lot better today," he said, just in case. "Very clean."
Indeed, Simon was extra glossy and his mane had lost that lank oiliness it tended towards.
"Luna stole some pet shampoo from Professor Lupin," said Hermione. "Doesn't Simon look handsome?"
"He always looks handsome," said Draco, miffed.
"Extra handsome, then," she said equably.
Simon's coat was polished up to the gloss of a fresh spill of ink. His tail had always billowed dramatically, but today his mane rippled in soft blue-black waves down his crest.
"Why does Professor Lupin need pet shampoo?" asked Trudi, who never failed to attend DADA or Potions whenever Lupin was teaching it. He'd become a surprise hit with the younger Slytherins in particular.
"For Snuffles," Hermione informed her. "He gets some special concoction from an apothecary in India – it has lots of herbs in it, and something called neem oil. Just got a new bottle with the post this morning."
"Never heard of neem oil," Draco said. "What's it for?"
"Pests, like fleas."
"Horses don't get fleas." Draco arched an eyebrow, throwing a snooty my-God-you've-got-fleas? look Sirius' way.
"Lice, then." Hermione shrugged. "They can get nits. Snuffles is allergic to most flea-potions, but the neem oil stops them without him getting a rash."
"Simon doesn't have nits. Whatever's in that shampoo, it's certainly put a gloss on him. Can't say as Snuffles has come out of the wash half as well as my horse has." Draco smirked.
Snuffles twitched an ear but remained aloof.
"He's not the least bit lame today," said Harry. Although he knew he had to talk to Sirius sooner or later, now that they were not three metres apart he didn't feel up to the task. Changing the subject was fast becoming his favourite tactic in times like these. "Simon, I mean. That bruise potion really did the trick."
"It certainly did a trick on your nails." But Hermione smiled to show she was joking.
Snuffles sniggered.
"Some of the second years were asking how you got your nails to go such a lovely shade of purple," said Trudi. "I told them you'd bought the nail polish in London but been annoyed because you couldn't find the exact shade of magenta you wanted. Expect a range of red and purple nail polish from your devoted fans."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're a friend. You know that, right?"
Trudi grinned.
"He's still a little stiff," said Draco, eyes firmly on Simon.
"No airs above the ground today," sighed Hooch. "Even so, he's the best thing I've had between my legs in years."
Hermione looked shocked. There was a little rabbit squeak from Trudi, who was trying not to laugh.
"Never mind," said Draco, pretending innocence. "I hear there's a new Firebolt out on the market. Now that you can teach Quidditch again, you should apply for a new broom for yourself."
"Hah! As if the Governors would splash out on a new broom for an old thing like me!" Hooch scoffed.
"Try," Draco said mildly, twiddling a stem of grass between his fingers, eyes never leaving Simon. There was a plain brown paper bag on the log next to him. One hand rested on it as possessively as his eyes did on Simon. "You never know your luck."
Hooch snorted, then raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You never do, do you. Very well, Malfoy. I'll apply for one."
Draco nodded distractedly. "I'm sure the Board will look favourably on your application – after all, you've done a lot for Hogwarts and it's time that was recognised."
Harry took it to mean that even if the Governors didn't appreciate Hooch's skills, Lucius would be buying her a broom if Draco had to twist his arm personally.
"You've done a bit of riding yourself, ma'am?"
Hooch smiled at Rob. Snuffles made a sound to show he'd been appropriately named. "I have, Rob. And please just call me Xiomora – we don't want you sounding like one of the students!"
Oh Merlin, thought Harry, his toes curling with mortification inside his sneakers. She's flirting with Robert Python.
"…I used to ride just for a hobby. But, well, Quidditch took over at some point."
"It's a demanding sport. Never played it myself, but my brother turned pro."
"Oh, of course – you're Theodore Python's older brother."
Harry had heard of Theodore Python, but hadn't connected the two names before. "Theodore Python, who was Beater for the Seattle Sasquatches? Does he ride?"
"Matter of fact, Teddy's allergic to horses. He's a Quidditch Mutterer." Rob smiled. "You've got to be good with people to coach."
"Tell me about it," Hooch grumbled, stealing a caramel out of Draco's pocket while he wasn't looking.
Snuffles made that little snuffling sound again. Harry wished he wouldn't – Robert Python was watching the Animagus out of the corner of his eye. He might discover that Sirius was hiding as –
Wait a minute.
Sirius was innocent, so why wasn't he in human form? Harry shot him another glare.
"Draco here was telling me you found my book useful," Rob said before Harry could get too angry with his godfather.
"Yes. It was fantastic. Not just for horses – for people, too."
"Teddy likes to put some of the principles into action on his students."
"Maybe I should use that book," Hooch said thickly. The caramel was gluing her teeth together. "Interesting initial trust-building exercise you use."
"I'm not sure we'd be terribly pleased to be chased around in circles by someone for an hour until we bonded with them," Harry said before she could get too many ideas.
"Oh, you get some funny people around here," put in Draco. "I hope you don't know who I'm talking about, Trudi," he added when she made another of her I'm-not-really-laughing noises.
"Unfortunately I do. It's not like there's anything better to do in History than gossip, you know."
"Even I can't argue with that," Hermione said unexpectedly, earning her a bonus smile from Trudi.
"I think he's warmed up enough. He's listening and supple, and those half-halts were perfect. Try him at flying changes," Rob called out to Luna.
She looked disbelieving. "Are you sure?"
"Let's see what he remembers."
"But… without reins?"
"He was fine with your mom. Magic of the mind. Imagine you're holding the reins and asking with balance and legs and seat for the change of leg. Don't push too hard – it's a big thing to ask him. Go on – try it. Flying changes. Two strides on each leg."
She nodded. Simon, in a slow canter, took many tries to understand what Luna was asking. His tail swished harder and harder. Harry judged Simon was starting to get frustrated, almost at the stage of sticking in a buck to say he'd had enough, when his head dipped with sudden understanding and he seemed to skip across the meadow (albeit skip in a stately manner befitting a dignified stallion strutting his stuff in front of an admiring audience).
Harry found himself moving slightly as if he were the one riding the horse. He looked right and saw Draco doing the same. They grinned at each other in a moment of sheepish near-telepathy.
"Just like watching Quidditch," said Hooch. "Those in the know always lean in the direction they know the broom should be going."
"It's harder to watch the rider than the horse," Draco remarked to Rob. "It must make it a bit more difficult when you're meant to be teaching the human."
Rob gave him a quick smile. "Tell me about it."
Harry privately thought Luna was well worth watching, but decided not to say that.
"Lovely," called out Rob.
"Just like Mum?"
"Just like your mom."
Luna glowed.
What was that about Luna's mother? But Harry was too distracted by the sight of horse and rider, and lost that thought.
Simon seemed to pick up on her happiness. He shook out his mane, stretched his neck and snorted, trotting in a wide circle with a steady, elastic movement that made Harry itch to be the one on the horse.
"I'll try it again." Luna leaned back slightly, her hands on her thighs, turned Simon on his hindquarters and cantered back across the meadow in another series of flying changes.
Those on the log clapped. Even Snuffles looked impressed, his tail wagging through the long grass.
Luna beamed with pride and patted Simon enthusiastically on the neck. Simon seemed just as pleased by the applause, and put an extra bounce into knees and hocks, prancing with his neck arched as Luna trotted him in across the meadow. Harry had no idea how she was managing it without a bridle, but Simon seemed to be picking up on what she wanted by telepathy, the horse curving his spine as if he were trotting in a circle while his legs carried him off at a tangent. It was a dance like the flying change, but to a different music.
"Look! He's doing a shoulder-in!" she said proudly. "Without reins! Isn't he great?"
"Well, yes," Draco said, surprised she'd taken so long to stumble onto this fact.
Harry knew cold shoulder but he'd didn't know what a shoulder-in was for. He shook his head. It was too hard trying to work it out. He turned to Rob. "I wish I had that book here. I'd ask you to autograph it," he said with a small smile. "Then again, the way the librarian gets it's probably safer for us if you don't."
"There's no book written that can help you become a Librarian Mutterer," Rob said seriously, but with a twinkle in his faded eyes.
Harry chuckled. "Do they get scary over in America, too?"
"You can bet your last brass Razoo on that. Speaking of books, while I'm here I was hoping to get some feedback from someone who's really put my book to the test."
Harry frowned. Tell the ultimate Horse Mutterer how to make his book better? There wasn't really anything he felt he could say to this. Not without some heavy-duty blushing.
"I told him to have more on shoeing," Draco said.
Robert Python nodded. "That was a good patch-up job you did on that damaged hoof," he told the Slytherin.
Draco puffed out his chest.
It seemed a bit cheeky, but: "You could put something in about longeing horses," Harry said awkwardly, not sure if he was committing some sort of unforgivable offence by offering a suggestion. Draco never seemed to worry about committing unforgivable offences and went around offering the most outrageous suggestions, but he was Draco.
"Nicely spotted. That went in after the second edition."
"Oh. I've only got the first."
Rob smiled, sun-deepened wrinkles crinkling warmly. "I was warned Hogwarts only had the first. And I thought you might want a copy of your own." He handed Harry a flat object wrapped in brown paper – it looked just like what Draco was resting his hand possessively upon. Hardly gaily-wrapped, but the down-to-earth practicality pleased Harry more than any moving wizard gift wrapping could have.
Out slid a book; familiar cover, familiar name, unfamiliar odour – too new, nothing of Hogwarts or horses to the smell – and when Harry opened to the title page, he found it was the fourth edition. The frontispiece opposite showed an unmoving Muggle-style photo of Robert Python sitting on a fence with a glossy bay horse standing next to him, looking out at the photographer. The horse, which looked like the one on the cover except for the perfect diamond of white between its eyes, had no harness yet gave the sense of being completely under the direction of the wizard sitting next to it. Not because it had to, but because it confidently allowed it as a friendship. Harry's brows drew together. "Do you need a special horse to be a partner like this?"
Python peered over Harry's shoulder and nodded. "It helps. That's Zeke. Quarterhorse stallion. Son of Maloney, who's on the cover. Maloney died a couple of years back."
"I'm sorry."
"Old age – sudden heart-attack. He had a good life and left a great legacy. Zeke's as good as his sire – different personality, of course, but an excellent horse with the same great heart to him."
Harry frowned, trying out this new perspective. "Oh," he said, not knowing what else to say.
"That's the thing about horses. They're all individuals. You might think you have one that's irreplaceable, but if you look hard enough and have maybe that little bit of luck, well, you can get yourself another just as great. You just have to be ready to adapt yourself to the change. Like me and Zeke."
Was there some sort of message in there? The words left Harry uneasy.
"You'll have to come and meet him some time."
"Zeke? Really?" Harry beamed. "I'd love to."
"I've talked to Albus. He seemed to think you might like to come and stay at my ranch in Montana for the summer."
Harry glanced at Draco. Draco shrugged, suggesting Harry would be a mug for turning down this offer and if he, Draco, hadn't already had something planned he'd be madly jealous.
Harry could only grin. But wouldn't Simon be –?
Dark eyes bright, Simon trotted up to the log. Luna smiled down at Harry. "Hello Harry!" she said brightly. "Did you see the flying changes?"
"I did. Lovely work. How'd you do it?"
"Magic. It's real, you know."
"So I've been hearing."
"Hello, old fellow," said Mr Python to the horse, holding out a hand, palm down as he'd said in the book. Simon sniffed at the fingers without much interest, then nosed at Mr Python's breast pocket.
"Ah – a horse looking for his peppermints and I'm clean out. Same old, same old. Sorry, my friend." Robert smiled, running his hand down Simon's neck. "No peppermints today, Simon. It's Simon, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow at Luna.
Luna nodded happily. "Yes. Still called Simon." Then she blushed as Harry and Draco turned to glare at her. Even Snuffles and Hermione looked guardedly surprised. Trudi's face went carefully polite. It was impossible to tell if she knew something or was being a diplomat's daughter.
"Whaddaya mean, 'still Simon'? And didn't you just say that your mother rode him? You – you knew this horse from before we found him in the Forest and you didn't tell us?" Draco snapped.
For once Simon wasn't perturbed by the angry outburst. The horse seemed to be taking its cue from the unruffled Horse Mutterer.
Harry was indignant. What sort of game did Luna think she was playing? But he didn't want to show anger in front of a Horse Mutterer – you must lose points for doing that.
She sighed. "He's my uncle's horse. And I didn't tell you because it would have raised too many questions."
"About your uncle's horse?" Harry said.
Luna's brow creased. "About my uncle."
Draco's face had gone pink – he looked highly sceptical at the idea of Luna's uncle being a horse-owner – whoever that uncle might be, because Harry kept forgetting to ask.
But before Harry could lose control of his rising horror and blurt out that her uncle must be a Death Eater to have brought a horse into the Forest on that night, Python (who had stepped back and left Harry and Draco closest to the horse) cleared his throat to get their attention. "Whatever you do or don't know about Simon or his owner, I think you should know that if you argue around him, sooner or later he'll give the both of you a nip," he said in his soft drawl.
Harry looked at Simon. Now that Python had allowed Harry and Draco to dominate Simon's immediate area the horse was getting back that familiar gleam in his eye, the one that suggested that as he couldn't take points off Gryffindor, Slytherin or Ravenclaw, he'd settle for taking points out of their hides.
That gleam faded as Rob stepped forward. Simon yawned.
A hand rested on Harry's shoulder. "Here comes Albus," said Rob. "I imagine he'll want to talk to you."
It was Dumbledore. With Remus.
Simon had a headcollar on with the leadrope draped across his neck – Harry could stop him running away if he had to, but there were several students around whom Simon went into mega-protective mode. What would Mr Python think when he saw Simon attacking Remus? He might give Harry a really disappointed look.
Harry swallowed. It seemed like everyone knew what was going on except for himself. Even Simon smelled odd after the new shampoo – whatever neem oil was, he didn't think he liked the way it eclipsed the more familiar scent of horse. He really didn't want to talk to Dumbledore right now, not when Luna was… he didn't want to think what Luna might be.
"Would you like a quick lesson on Simon?"
The man was a Harry Mutterer. "Love one."
Luna had already dismounted and was avoiding eye contact. Rob gave Harry a leg-up. "Er, won't I need the reins?"
"Nope. And you won't need the rope."
Simon's nose seemed to be connected by a foot long invisible thread to Rob's shoulder as the horse followed the Horse Mutterer into the middle of the meadow, where Mr Python extended one arm and sent the horse out into a circle at the trot. Harry was worried at first that Simon would go charging off back to the paddock, but that invisible thread seem to have lengthened to twenty feet, a nigh-on psychic connection between horse and Mutterer.
It was a shame there was no connection between horse and Harry – keeping in the saddle at a trot wasn't easy without stirrups. Especially when you didn't have the reins to help you balance and your hands were sitting uselessly on your own thighs and you were fuming over your girlfriend keeping whopping great secrets from you.
Simon swished his tail and skipped sideways, testing the limits of the invisible line, sending Harry sliding in the saddle. He grabbed the pommel.
The Mutterer must have conveyed some secret sign to the horse, because Simon shook his head, sending his mane rippling, and resumed the circle.
"Concentrate. Be aware of your surroundings – let yourself be a part of them, you and the horse. Especially the horse. He's the important one here, and he knows it. If you're not fully engaged with Simon you'll put his nose out of joint."
Harry thought Rob was joking, but Simon's gait smoothed as soon as Harry turned his thoughts from Luna to the horse. Touchy old stallion. Harry thought with exasperated fondness, and focussed on Rob's voice as well as Simon.
The Horse Mutterer's voice was low, calm, and bordered on the mesmerising. "Stretch your legs down, Harry. Good. Hands on your thighs. Those bands keeping your shoulders hunched forward? Think of a pair of scissors cutting them. Now let your shoulders relax back – not too far, think of one of those pretty milkmaid girls carrying a pair of buckets on a yoke. Empty buckets! Now relax and know that Simon is carrying you around the circle. You're not a spooky prey animal that wants to run away, you're his partner. Relax, let him carry you, let him listen to you – you're listening to him just fine! Breathe in, breathe out… aaaand… relax…"
Harry did so. "That's amazing!" And so simple. Simon's rolling trot was as easy to sit to as his canter now. A home for the summer, Dumbledore and Lupin, Luna's mysterious uncle, Sirius being sneaky, and strange shampoos didn't matter now that he was on his horse and Simon was listening to him again, the horse ready to do what Simon liked best in the world after peppermints and having the itch behind his ears scratched: getting down to business and doing some work with one of his colts.
Under Python's direction it wasn't long before Harry drew Simon's attention away from the man in the centre and had the horse doing S-curves through the circle, at trot and canter, changing direction and paces without reins. Although Simon automatically made a flying change every time he changed direction at the canter, Harry knew he wasn't going to be able to do a succession of them like Luna had done.
With the amount of concentration involved, it was easy for him to forget who was watching. There was only him, Rob and Simon.
It didn't take long for Simon to warm up. The smell of sweat began to eclipse the neem oil shampoo. The horse was still recovering from his part in the fight against Voldemort. Harry was a little stiff, too; despite the potion Madam Pomfrey had given him, not all his bruises had faded yet.
"Okay, I reckon that's enough for now. He's trying hard, but he's no colt."
Harry had to agree. It was hard to tell if Simon listened to him, made up his own mind or sensed that Harry was looking at the Mutterer, but the horse came into the circle and stopped in front of Rob, head lowered to make it easier for Rob to scratch behind Simon's ears. Draco joined them as Harry dismounted. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry realised that Dumbledore had taken a seat next to Luna and was scratching Snuffles' ears. Remus was also sitting on the log, but as far away from Simon as possible.
"Can I borrow your dog, Albus? That is the one that was kicked, right?"
Snuffles looked guardedly interested. Dumbledore gave him a pat on the head. "Yes, he was. Go ahead, Snuffles."
When the Mutterer made a gesture with one hand, the Animagus padded over towards him.
"Er… Simon doesn't like Snuffles much," Harry said. "I don't think he likes dogs."
Rob crouched down and held his hand under Simon's stomach.
The shaggy black dog hesitated, then went and sat beneath the horse. Rob gestured with one hand to Simon, apparently telling the horse to stand still, then walked around the stallion.
"Come on, Snuffles."
Looking a little astounded at his own daring, Snuffles walked under Simon, then between the front legs, back around and under again, and finished off by squeezing between the horse's hind legs.
Simon didn't twitch through all of this.
"That was amazing," said Harry.
"Hmm," said the Horse Mutterer. It was hard to tell what he was thinking as he sent Snuffles back to sit with Dumbledore.
Simon yawned.
"Professor Lupin. May I have your help for a moment?"
Remus' mouth tightened. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea. This horse… I'm a werewolf, you see."
"Yes. I know the signs. I also know you and Simon have a little history. I want to see how far out of his comfort zone I can take him before he might start to react. If I think you're in the slightest danger I will stop the experiment immediately."
Remus' entire body was tight as a drum as he walked up to the horse.
Simon barely glanced at him.
"My goodness," breathed Lupin. "It's been a while… I have patted him before, but…"
"Just scratch down along his neck under the mane. Horses like that."
"As do I, at least when it's the full moon," Remus confessed, a sheepish werewolf, as he ran his hand down Simon's neck. "There's a good horse. Good boy."
Simon's eyelashes lowered sleepily. He yawned again, then turned his head and checked Remus' pockets for peppermints. A line of some deeper emotion Harry couldn't name creasing his brow, the werewolf rested his forehead against the horse's and sighed. "He's never been this docile. Not with me."
"Feel up to a riding lesson?"
Remus paled.
"That's okay. One step at a time."
"This horse has, er, tried to kill me before. Several times. It's enough just to stand here and not be attacked."
"Horses can be mighty defensive." Rob nodded sympathetically. "I've heard it's hard for a werewolf to have a pet. I think that might be one of the hardest things, myself. I don't know what I'd do without my horses."
For a moment that line deepened and Remus' face looked like it would crumple. Then he gave a tight smile. "I always wanted a cat."
"Well now, I'm not much of a cat person, but talk to a friend of mine. She breeds Knoxville Kneazles. Them cats are tough as a cinnabarmarine miner, but friendly with it. Know a bunch of werewolves down Arizona way who have them as familiars."
Simon chose that moment to turn and butt his head against Remus' shoulder. It was only because the headcollar was itchy, but the werewolf dug his fingers into the soft mane and held tight for a moment, then ran his hand down Simon's nose.
Remus cleared his throat. "Yes. I'd like that," he said, his voice even huskier than usual.
Rob studied him and the horse for a moment. "I'll give you her address."
Remus nodded. He put his hand on Snuffles' shoulders and led the dog back to the log, sitting down between Dumbledore and Trudi in silence.
"Well, old fellow, let's see what you remember." Rob undid the girth and removed the saddle.
"I don't have to ride him bareback, do I?" Draco asked doubtfully.
Rob shook his head. "Nope. Just wanted to show you a trick. Stand back a little."
He picked up the leadrope and pulled it across Simon's neck until Simon was looking away from him. He tapped Simon's closest foreleg.
"Bang!"
With a grunt, the horse kneeled and lay down.
"He used to close his eyes."
Draco was laughing, so were those sitting on the log. Hooch clapped.
Harry had to grin. "How do you get a horse to learn to play dead?"
"A little time every day, a lot of patience, and a horse that is either obliging or has a sense of humour."
"Which one is Simon?" asked Draco.
"You know what? I never did figure that one out."
"His eyes are closed now."
"That's only because he's asleep."
Simon began to snore. Snuffles sneezed and smirked. Remus seemed absorbed in his own thoughts as he watched the prone horse, but Dumbledore tapped the Animagus on the head with a fingertip and Snuffles took the hint.
Harry wondered if Rob had noticed.
The Horse Mutterer was crouching down, one hand on Simon's shoulder as he ran the other down the inside of the left foreleg. He looked across at Dumbledore. "There's a shadow left over."
"Can you remove it?" asked Luna.
"I'll try." Rob's lips were moving, but Harry could barely hear the words. It sounded like the man was chanting in some language mainly made up of W's and Y's.
Simon's eyes opened and he lifted his head to see what the Mutterer was doing, but it was only mild curiosity on his part. One ear flicked as a line of smoke spun out above the horse's knee and evaporated, blown away on a zephyr.
"All gone. It was pretty much done for already," Rob said. "But I'd like to check that spell in his chest."
Snuffles whined and tucked his tail between his legs.
"Er, are you sure?" asked Draco. "He can get really upset over it. He bit some Aurors when they tried to poke it with their wands, but Luna was there to stop Simon declaring war."
"I don't use a wand, Draco. If Simon doesn't want me touching the spell, I'll stop. It's his spell and I'll abide by his rules."
Harry and Draco shot worried looks at each other.
Initially Simon wasn't too pleased with the man touching the spell in his chest. He lifted his head and canted his ears back. Rob knelt and began to rub his hand over the horse's eyes, one then the other. Simon's head dropped back into the grass. His eyes were open but a little glazed.
"Did you hypnotise him?" asked Hermione, fascinated from the safety of distance.
"Nope, not quite; I've only gotten him to relax a bit. He trusts me."
True. Simon didn't so much a twitch the skin on his withers as the Mutterer poked at his chest with his scarred brown fingers. After a few minutes, Rob stood, his knees creaking, and gave a twitch of the leadrope. "Come on, old fellow. On your feet."
Simon gave him a look.
Rob smiled down at him. "I mean it, now. You know I do."
Simon considered this for a few moments before sighing and levering himself up onto his hooves. Rob scrubbed the horse's forehead with his knuckles. "Who's next?"
"Me, but only with a saddle," Draco said quickly before Hooch could.
There was just enough time for Rob to give Draco a riding lesson, then Dumbledore said he had some business to take care of with the Horse Mutterer – the Aurors weren't allowing anyone to stay until dinner time, sadly. Harry was disappointed, and his disappointment took on an edge of resentment when he didn't get a chance to talk to Luna, who went off with Remus, Hooch, Trudi and Snuffles before Harry could get a chance to build up a real head of steam.
Perhaps that was why Rob suggested that Harry and Draco take Simon back to the paddock. "…Take the rock. It'll give you some space from noisy people. It should last another three hours, but if you want the spell gone just give it a good shake."
"Thanks." Harry tucked the rock into a pocket. "Are you staying to dinner?" he asked Rob hopefully.
"No." He gave both boys his card. "Owl or floo me if you have any questions – or if you want to come visit. You'd both be mighty welcome."
Draco was grinning from ear to ear as he tucked the card away in his pocket – probably with the card he'd got from Elmsworthy's lawyer. Harry was slightly less happy as he slid the card into his copy of the book, giving it to Hermione who promised to see it safely back to the castle for him while Harry took Simon up to the paddock (Hermione had never been a fan when it came to allowing a book into dirty circumstances). He had so many questions to ask… and he wanted to ask them now, not put them in a letter… and would he be in a house with a floo? Cottages set up for horses in the back garden were Mugglish and it was doubtful if they had floo connections. He could hire a Wizarding house, of course, but it might be better to keep his whereabouts. Easier to do in the Muggle world, where nobody other than the Dursleys and some of Dudley's friends knew Harry Potter. They were hardly going to come knocking.
Draco must have sensed Harry's impatience. He didn't complain about brushing down Simon by himself and let Harry return to the castle as soon as possible. There was a near miss with Rita Skeeter, lurking near the front entrance. But thanks to the stone in his pocket Harry went straight past her and her photographer. He hurried up the stairs in case the magic wore off.
Harry had been avoiding Dumbledore, yes, but he figured that if Rob was there then things might not need to escalate.
He was one hundred percent wrong.
The password hadn't changed and Harry jogged past the gargoyle and up the stairs, hoping Rob hadn't left already. Pausing at the top to get his breath back, he realised from the soft voices behind the door that the Horse Mutterer hadn't yet left the castle and was in Dumbledore's office with the headmaster and Luna.
"… saying sounds like shock therapy," said Luna's voice. She sounded worried.
"Can't say as I like it myself, but that spell in his chest's been knocked clean out of sync. The only way to right it is to get in through his head, but even having a werewolf next to him couldn't put a spin on it. He's there, but he's gone too deep to right himself. You're going to need to find yourselves some fundamental energy. You up for it, Albus?"
Harry didn't quite hear Dumbledore's reply, but it didn't sound promising. He knew he should knock, but he also doubted that they would continue with this conversation were he to enter the room.
Rob was speaking again: "Ponyshaman might be able to help, but even he is a long shot. Once Simon's at my ranch I can get in some experts."
"I do so appreciate you taking him on, Robert. He'll have to be sedated to ship him across tomorrow night, but…"
Harry rocked back on his feet. More words from Dumbledore that Harry couldn't quite make out through the shock – they were taking Simon away?
He was just about to knock/blast the door down/mount a revolution to put the Republic of Slytherin to shame, when:
"I was a mite curious doubt that dog of yours…"
"An Animagus. Sirius Black."
"None of my business, but is there any animosity between him and Harry?"
"Nothing they can't sort out between themselves." The words sounded sure, but Dumbledore's tone introduced some doubt.
"Harry and Draco. Luna's right about them. Those boys have put their hearts and souls into their horse. They need to know, Albus."
Know what – that Simon was being stolen from them? As the castle wasn't burning down Draco couldn't know yet.
"Alas, it would only complicate matters. Such a conundrum."
Yeah, Harry thought viciously, it's a real conundrum when you assign me to look after a Death Eater's horse and then take it away again, just when it's part of my life! He had the horrible idea that maybe, just maybe Dumbledore was sending Simon back to the Death Eater. He forced himself to concentrate on Dumbledore's next words.
"…It really is a shame you can't stay longer, Robert. Teach a few classes, train a few students, psychoanalyse the staff."
Rob's chuckle rumbled through the door. "It's your herd, Albus," he replied amiably. "But if Remus wants to come and visit I'm sure I can hook him up with a local werewolf community. Things are different on our side of the Atlantic – werewolves are quite often respected shapeshifters, and even those who aren't are accepted parts of the community. Meeting some would be a healing experience for him."
"It would."
There was the sound of a clock chiming the hour.
"'Bout time to get moving. Luna, I'll get your mom's old room ready. It looks out over where Simon will live. He'll be in with some of the quieter boys. I think Zeke and he will get along just fine."
Harry heard her murmur Thank you. He felt a nasty twist in his stomach. Luna was going to America? What about Burghley? Harry?
Her Death Eater family?
Simon was going to America. Considering how besotted she was with the horse, maybe the rest wouldn't matter to her. Certainly not the Harry part, he realised. The thought curdled in his stomach.
"Don't stallions fight to the death?" Dumbledore asked, a note of worry creeping in.
About time your conscience got to work.
"Not necessarily. In the wild they can form bachelor herds, and there are some steady geldings in there who know how to defuse tensions. I take the personality of each horse into account before I place him or her into a group. Simon's awful lonely up there on his hill. He's the sort who gets a lot of his self-respect from his job. Horse like him needs to be part of a working herd. He'll have his work cut out for him keeping some of the colts in line."
"He's quite the disciplinarian."
"If Ponyshaman can't help him then he might as well enjoy being part of a lively gang."
"And perhaps this one won't lead him into mischief… my apologies, Luna."
"He'll like having friends and bossing around the younger generation," Luna's voice said.
I'm his friend! Harry thought despairingly. And he's never held back from bossing me about.
There was the sound of chairs being drawn back. Murmur of voices coming closer.
He stepped back just as the door opened.
"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Just the person I wanted to see. Luna, would you escort Mr Python to the gates?"
"Yes, Headmaster." She slid past Harry without meeting his eyes.
"Albus." Rob held out a hand to Harry. His eyes met Harry's and acknowledged without judgement the eavesdropping. Only a faint tightness at the corners of his eyelids suggested he was concerned. "Don't forget to use my card," he said. "I'll be expecting you this summer."
Harry shook hands mutely and nodded. He couldn't think of anything to say. He was too stunned.
"Harry?" said Dumbledore softly. "Would you like to sit?"
Harry took a chair. No sherbet lemons were offered, nor was there any tea.
"You're mad at me, aren't you. About the whole going through the barrier thing."
"No, Harry. I understand you did what you felt you had to do. It was dangerous and you could have died – I am still upset about that, true – but I am not angry with you. I have never been angry with you."
"You're sending Simon away. That's because I took him, isn't it."
"No, Harry. I would have been forced to send him away regardless of who rode him through the barrier."
"But if they catch all the Death Eaters –"
"Do you think they will? The Aurors will be years tracking down each and every Dark witch and wizard who followed Lord Voldemort. Simon, you and Draco are all in danger."
"I've always been in danger."
A spasm of pain crossed Dumbledore's face. "That is true. And yet there are so many avenues for you – future paths you may never have been looking for."
Harry nodded slowly. "It's true that I've only recently started thinking of my own future," he admitted, "but I don't see why I should keep running from Death Eaters."
"You are quite right. You don't need to run. But you will need to be conscious of your safety."
"What about Draco?"
"I believe you met Narcissa Malfoy yesterday."
"Yes. Oh." He wasn't sure he liked her. She had an obsessive undercurrent he instinctively shied away from, like Simon from a rustle in the grass which could turn out to be an adder. Her world revolved around her son. Harry was disposable or a valuable heirloom according to the whim of Draco. "Draco's probably pretty safe."
"Lucius won't allow harm to come to his heir."
"Not now he won't," Harry said absently.
"Hm, quite," Dumbledore chuckled.
"I don't know where I'll be staying yet, but I can find a safe place –"
"You could stay with your family, surely."
Harry stiffened. "Absolutely not."
"As you wish."
"I thought I could find a house with some land somewhere. Simon and I could stay there for the summer, then I can bring him back for the school year. He doesn't have to go to America!"
"Apart from the challenge of getting him on the train, I'm not sure that would be a good idea."
Harry gritted his teeth. Telling the ancient wizard to stop being so bloody facetious wouldn't help his case. "I won't tamper with the wards on the fence again –"
"It's a little more difficult than that, Harry."
"His owner might show up?"
"No. There is no danger of that."
"Oh, right. His owner is a Death Eater." Harry paused, but Dumbledore didn't argue. He felt his heart sink. "Luna's uncle is a Death Eater."
"Her uncle –"
"No, it's okay. She'll tell me about him in her own time. You're worried about other Death Eaters. I'll keep Simon out of sight. Draco and Mrs Malfoy will help."
"I am not letting Lucius Malfoy anywhere near Simon."
Harry fell silent. Dumbledore had said that flatly and without any hint of being ready to hear a counter-argument.
"While I trust Draco, he is young and he loves his father very much."
"He's not a complete idiot…"
"Neither, sadly, is Lucius. However, he is enough of an idiot to endanger his family and everything they value in his schemes for personal power."
Harry began to wish he'd told Draco No, send your father to Azkaban and be done with it… "There are other ways of keeping Simon here. Besides, Draco won't like you sending Simon to America."
"I know."
Harry's frustration was rising. "So he isn't going to be consulted either."
"No. He is not. While I assigned Simon into the care of you and Draco, the ultimate responsibility for his welfare has always remained mine."
"He's a horse! You – you yourself told me he's just a horse…"
Dumbledore's eyes closed for a fraction of a moment. "As he is. As you and Draco are just wizards."
"Then let me keep him. Me and Draco – we'll ask Hagrid to help hide him if you don't trust me!"
"I trust you, Harry."
"No, you don't! You never have! You never tell me what I need to know until after I've found the Stone, killed the basilisk, let Pettigrew go, and raised Voldemort from the dead!"
"I trust you, Harry. I know you have reason to doubt me – any number of reasons – but I have always trusted your good nature and your infinite ability to find friends in the oddest of places."
Harry tried to rein in his temper. Robert Python had been sitting in this room not five minutes ago. He wouldn't want Harry hurling those stupid silvery devices across the room in a fit of fury. He counted to ten twice, and felt calmer, capable of rationality instead of reaction.
"Only since I found out I was a wizard did I start to have friends." He must have said that out aloud, because Dumbledore was nodding.
"It is a great strength and a greater magic than Voldemort ever possessed. In less than two months you managed to befriend an old enemy as well as an alien beast."
"Don't let Draco hear you call him an alien beast," Harry said. Although he wasn't fuming anymore, he wasn't in a particularly jocular mood and his words issued somewhat flatly.
"Indeed. I will be sure not to. The three of you looked after one another while on a most dangerous adventure. A true friendship."
"I don't think Draco would agree, and Simon may not see me as a friend exactly – he's got a very possessive mindset. He and Draco are similar that way, come to think of it." Not that Harry would ever admit to Simon being a Slytherin horse, there were times when the horse seemed almost Machiavellian in its rope-untying and endless quest for peppermints.
"Draco's idea of friendship is a little out of step with ours. And Simon's understanding is that of a horse. Call it what you will, there was courage, loyalty, intelligence and determination exhibited by each one for the betterment of all. Is that not what friendship is, this conjunction of the best quality each House of Hogwarts has to offer?"
"I still think Simon's definition runs more to apples and peppermints."
Dumbledore did manage to laugh at that. He became solemn again as he stood to look out the window. Restless and with his hands twitching with delayed anger and nerves, Harry joined him there.
Far away on Squirrel Hill could be seen Draco, walking down from the gate. Simon stood watching his wizard go, then turned and climbed to the top of the hill.
"He will have other horses to run with, a gift of companionship long overdue for a lonely horse. Robert promises there is work to keep him busy – Simon is a horse who likes to be active, both mentally and physically. The climate gets warmer than it ever does in Scotland, a welcome thing when your bones are no longer as young as your determination, and in winter when it snows there is a warm barn in which for him to live with a large area for exercise. He will have oats and barley and molasses, and all the other treats horses care for. I will make sure he gets regular shipments of peppermints. He will have grooms and personal attention from Robert Python himself."
"He won't have me."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Will he not? Robert was most sincere with his invitation. Luna has already accepted."
"Won't she be staying with her Death Eater uncle?"
"Luna has chosen Simon. You judge her harshly, Harry. Has she ever struck you as one who hoards secrets for malicious intent?"
Harry chose to ignore that. It was hard to think, to decide, to know what was a true path rather than another hinkypunk light. The memory of Simon going through a rapid series of changes in direction while – seemingly effortlessly! – keeping to the same pace on the same straight line cantered through his mind. Simon could do this, the horse had an uncanny ability to find an even keel while being asked for the imossible, but Harry… Harry had had enough flying changes in his life to be able to deal with another one. "Is Draco going?"
"I expect he will if he can, especially once he finds out Simon will be there. He will be having a busy time of it this summer, what with keeping his family balanced between Light and Dark. See if you can convince him to take a holiday in Montana. He will need it, I am sure, and Robert works with other species than horses."
"Such as?"
"Witches and wizards?" Dumbledore smiled.
"It's lucky he's never decided to be a Dark Lord. People would follow him anywhere," Harry mused. He'd never in his life met anyone whom he so quickly and instinctively trusted as deeply as the Horse Mutterer, although Hagrid came a close second. "I wonder if he thinks I'd be better as an Auror, a Quidditch player, or a Mutterer."
"He can help you find yourself in the present, Harry; he is proud of being able to bring out the best of everyone, horse and human, who comes to be his student or his patient. Proud, yes, but never arrogant. He will not tell you your future, however, and he would never be so foolish as to tell you what path you should be taking in your life."
"Shame he doesn't take Divinations."
"Perhaps."
"Do you think he'd come and teach at Hogwarts? If we kept Simon here, then he might."
"Unfortunately he disagrees with many of our educational philosophies. He once told me that our system of competitive segregation – as he put it – churns out a high proportion of damaged adults, and he has enough work in various other parts of the world healing the results of this without being an active participant."
"Really?"
"It's not like him to be negative, so I didn't push the issue. His philosophy is co-operative rather than divisive."
"True. Have you known him long?"
"Many years now."
Yet Dumbledore had never mentioned this friendship. "How did you meet?"
"Oh, a long story for another day. One of many long stories. You have several of your own. The love of your family that protects you, for instance."
"My mother, yes." Thinking of Draco and Narcissa, Harry felt another twinge of jealousy.
"Not only your mother. Talk to Sirius, Harry. He loves you."
Harry couldn't speak. He nodded.
"Thank you," Dumbledore breathed. He looked tired, and his eyes had lost their twinkle. "Now, I must send you off to get tidied up for dinner so that I can deal with a subject at once both grand and terrible: how to announce that exams have been cancelled without riots fuelled by disappointment breaking out."
"I'll ask Hermione not to riot."
"It would be a great favour to me if you did." Over his half-moon glasses Dumbledore have Harry a mildly evaluating stare. Harry's automatic responses to the conversation were too wooden to be natural. "Very well then, I shall announce it over pudding. I shall see you down in the Hall, Harry."
"Yes, sir."
"And Harry?"
Harry, hand on the door, hoping he wasn't asked anything that would make this maelstrom inside him burst out in a mass of rage and subsequent shame, paused. "Yes?"
"There are many who love you. Talk to Sirius. And please, give Luna the benefit of the doubt."
He might be able to talk to Sirius, but he couldn't see the benefit of not doubting Luna. She had doubted him.
He left Dumbledore staring out the window, even though Draco was out of sight and only Simon could be seen on the hill, the horse watching over the castle, mane and tail flickering black flames against the grey sky as the evening wind strengthened.
ooOOoo