Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling

Part 2/ Chapter 3

In a mental institution in Western Australia, the same three wizards talked to the Chief Executive Officer. Bellamy was an inmate, committed four months before. He'd been picked up, half starved, and badly beaten. A file was checked. The wizards were in no hurry. It was a closed institution, and Bellamy had not escaped in the previous four months, so was not likely to, now.

This time, Graham, the healer, was with them, and he listened attentively, as comments were made. The patient had come in as Tom Stuart, until his passport was noted, and the name corrected. It sounded like Bellamy was still thin, and Graham thought of the monitors he carried in his bag. He'd soon be making his own checks. There was a note that he was easily managed normally, but that he reacted very badly to any perceived restraint. Influence had already been brought to bear. Full copies of the file were being made, and papers had been approved that released him into the care of his guardians.

Finally, the CEO rose, and suggested they find him. On Ward 2B, he said. There was an unexpected difficulty. The ward manager said that he didn't know where his patient was. The CEO was taken aback, and said that he must know! But the elderly man responsible for the patients on his ward said not to worry, Bellamy nearly always turned up for meals.

Graham was looking at him narrow-eyed. "Surely if he's been committed, he must be within the boundaries!"

Old Ray was on the verge of retirement, and had a very good idea of how to run his ward with the least possible trouble from his patients. He shrugged. "In the beginning, when he went missing, we'd search and search, but could never find him. The first time he was noted as missing, the nurses stripped his bed, and the name label was removed. In the morning, there he was, asleep on his bed." He shrugged again. "I never worry, now. As I said, he nearly always turns up for meals."

So the four wizards waited in the dining room. Sure enough, Bellamy walked in, listening to the nervous fellow beside him explaining that there were usually just ninety-six cotton buds in a pack that should have a hundred. Sometimes ninety-seven. Bellamy listened with courtesy.

Patrick said, softly, behind him, "Hello, Bellamy."

Bellamy turned and stared. For a long moment, neither said anything. He looked around, Fred, Gareth, Graham.

The CEO had gone to his own better dinner, but Ray watched, alert for trouble. A couple of strong male nurses also kept an eye on the confrontation. There was rarely violence on this ward, and they followed the philosophy of Ray - never interfere unless essential.

Bellamy was tense. Patrick didn't want to be seen as an enemy, and instead of ordering, he asked. "Would you like to come home now?"

Bellamy's gaze ranged around the walls. He looked odd to the aurors, so much younger looking, almost defenceless, without his glasses. Finally, he spoke, "I'll get my things."

The nervous, sandy headed man beside him said, "Bellamy? Are you going now?"

Bellamy looked gravely at Damus, and said quietly, "I'm going now. I have to work."

Damus's voice squeaked as he spoke to the patients around, most wearing shapeless tracksuits. "Bellamy's leaving," and the aurors watched, bemused, as he was surrounded by other patients, some shaking his hand or patting him on the back, some, more shy, just reaching out to touch him. Most were men, but there were some women, too.

One old, old lady just stood, tears streaming down her face. He went to her, and touched a gentle hand to her cheek, "Come on, Merlene, nothing stays the same forever."

Each time they'd found traces of Bellamy, it had been noted that he was very thin. The aurors used a powerful argument. They took him to a very good restaurant, and ordered him an excellent meal. He spoke little, and they refrained from questioning him. But like the patients on the ward, they wanted to touch him. It was hard to believe that he was there after so long. They hadn't expected him to be normal, or he wouldn't have been committed. But he was more normal than they'd expected.

At first,Bellamy appeared to be as easy to manage as before. But after they checked into a hotel, he stood, turning his head as if searching, and then told Graham, who was to share the twin room, that he had to say good-bye to someone. They tried to stop him leaving, but this time he ignored them, although not objecting when Gareth followed. He even slowed his steps when Gareth begged.

Gareth was wishing very much that they'd brought a couple of young aurors by the time they reached his destination - he was too old to walk for miles after Bellamy. But it had been thought that he would be more likely to cooperate with his old friends.

Gareth waited outside a suburban house, definitely deciding they'd return by taxi. He conjured himself a park bench. Long standing didn't suit him these days, either. But he smiled as he inspected the attractive woman who was giving her lover a final, parting kiss. He was beginning to think that Bellamy was far better than they'd thought.

But when he suggested to Bellamy that they apparate back to the hotel, Bellamy declined, saying that he didn't apparate these days. He even refused to go as a passenger. The pair returned to the hotel in a taxi.

Graham wanted to do a thorough examination of Bellamy when they returned, and Bellamy was docile again. Various measures were not much better than when Bellamy had left, to Graham's disappointment. After all this time, he'd been looking for more improvement.

They checked his passport before they went to the airport the following morning, and on instructions, he changed his birthdate. On his own initiative, he took some other documents from his pocket, and changed the birthdate on some work permits, as well. The documents had a charm on them. They were always accepted as genuine, perfectly in order, even when a stamp showed a trip made before he was supposedly born. Quite often, the documents had been checked, and approved even when he'd called himself something quite different. According to his papers now, Bellamy was nineteen. Spare documents in the money belt automatically and magically changed so that they were identical. Even the aurors hadn't noticed the money-belt.

They thought it too risky to take Bellamy on a commercial flight, not knowing how he might behave. Their own private aeroplane had been sent over, together with four young, fit aurors. Bellamy checked when he saw the young aurors. He knew none of them, and suddenly it seemed that it might be like a guard. Patrick was beside him, felt his hesitation, and told him reassuringly that no-one would try and keep him against his will, that all of them were there only to look after him.

Gareth strolled over to the big young men, and told them to keep as far away from Bellamy as possible, consistent with their job. Leave it to his old friends. Sidelong glances were cast at the legendary figure, now being treated like a half-tame, half-wild animal. Bellamy still stood, trembling slightly, looking as if he might not comply after all. But Graham called casually, from inside the aeroplane, "Come on, Bellamy! We're waiting for you," and he boarded the aeroplane.

Beth was furious when she learned that Bellamy was in the hands of the aurors again. She said that it was not yet time, that he should have been left alone. The Ministry was unrepentant. He was not just needed for the spell-breaking, but they hoped that news of his return might reduce the crime problem. Good people, innocent people, were suffering and dying. They refused to consider sending him off again, only assuring her that he was not constrained in any way, and they would never force him to do what he didn't want to do.

Beth stopped arguing, but she gave Tom a caution. Not only should he not be allowed to apparate, but that it might be very dangerous to take him as a passenger, even if he appeared willing to cooperate. That Bellamy's power so much exceeded anyone else's, that even a random, half-formed impulse might still mean that the destination was not the destination intended. She reminded them that if Bellamy had been ready to return, he would have done so.

Tom Davenport was still the head of the greatly enlarged Auror Department, and Kate still the Minister, with Deirdre her very competent and experienced advisor. A lot of discussion had gone into the way that Bellamy was to be treated. His old friend Alex was still alive, and was consulted, as were some older members of his family, especially Adrian. They did not consult Healer Kunder, who had recommended he be put down. Bellamy would be allowed to go to his own home, in the temporary custody of Adrian, his son, and Thea, his wife, even when Adrian adamantly refused to divulge its whereabouts.

Adrian and Thea waited to greet Bellamy as he entered the Ministry building after his long flight. Thea had always been fond of him, and now hugged him, and exclaimed over his thinness. Bellamy smiled at his daughter-in-law, and hugged her back. He still wasn't wearing glasses, and Adrian commented. A frown of confusion crossed the face of his father, and he touched his face. Glasses? But then he was perfectly normal as he asked after their daughter, Candice. Thea said in a tone of regret that she'd died. Bellamy hugged her again, and said that he was sorry. He didn't ask how she died. He thought she must have become old, the same as everyone did. But Candice had only been thirty-three when she'd been murdered.

Finally home, almost dusk of a cold November day. Bellamy was unable to settle down, prowling around, greeting those who remained with obvious pleasure, but talking little. All the older ones were gone now, but Caradoc and Clare remained, as well as Simon and Naomi, Beau, and the housekeeper, Sybil. Adrian waited up until Bellamy was finally persuaded to go to bed.

But in less than an hour, he was up again, dressed, and walking outside, talking to dogs who didn't know him, but appeared to recognise him anyway, the horses, most of them in warm shelter, and even some feral cats, living in a hayshed. And that's where they found him in the morning, wrapped up in his cape, asleep in the hayshed, three cats curled up against him. His employees were upset. It seemed that he was just as bad as when he left. When discovered, he was happy to return with Clare for breakfast. It seemed that his years of wandering had at least left him with an appreciation for meals that were provided.

Adrian and Thea were willing to stay for a while, but not on a long-term basis. Adrian now taught Defence at Zefron School of Magic, in America, and Thea had her accounting business to run. Instead, Archie and Ursula Barnes, urgently consulted, agreed to resign their jobs, and join those of Bellamy's staff who remained. It would be a good place to raise their family, and maybe even live out their lives. They had a son, Peter, and were thinking of having another baby. Their parents were there, and Uncle Beau. Their grandparents were buried there. And they, too, felt the importance of having the great wizard around. Archie remembered much more peaceful times when he'd been younger.

A great deal of discussion was going on at the Ministry. Over the last months, Spectra McFiddan, now in hiding, had given up all pretence of abiding by the law, and had taken a great deal of pleasure in attacking aurors, especially. The witch was fast, very clever indeed, and had defeated one auror after another. It was unfortunate that the aurors were still inclined to the tradition of one-to-one duels when they tried to make an arrest. It was a foolish indulgence that had resulted in a hospital ward at St. Mungo's being fully taken up with the care of fifteen pumpkin-heads.

Bellamy hadn't been around for a long time, and Beth had not recovered the power of magic. There were dozens more pumpkin-heads in Europe, and several in America. Clarence Holmes still refused to try and cure these victims, too frightened for his own safety. He became so annoyed at repeated demands that he now refused even to see them, to say whether they were dead or alive. Bellamy was urgently needed.

It was not just pumpkin-heads. Other terrible spells had been revived, even used on innocent children.

They gave Bellamy just two days to feel his way at home, before Adrian told him that today he was to go to the Ministry and cure pumpkin-heads. Thea drove Adrian and Bellamy to an airport seventy miles away, and Bellamy was instructed to put a Charm on the car to make it unlikely to be noticed, stolen, and especially, not followed. Adrian could work magic too of course, and very efficiently. But Adrian's spells could be overcome. Bellamy's could not. Crazy men were allowed to work magic when under orders, it appeared, and Bellamy did as he was told.

He was being treated with kid gloves, and Patrick was there to meet him when Adrian brought him in. Other aurors were all around, but stayed back. They took him to the same workroom within the Ministry that he'd used before. Fingers were crossed. Would he still be able to work the cure?

Ambulance teams waited. The first pumpkin-head was brought in. Bellamy was looking around vaguely. A young, fast auror waited, wand raised. Rescued pumpkin-heads were so dangerous!

Ricky was there, too. Although fifty now, his lightning speed was still there. Bellamy's gaze passed over him, and then returned, and he smiled, "Ricky!"

"Hello, Bellamy," Ricky said gently. He was uncomfortable with this job. He was the one who had so badly hurt Bellamy's daughter, but he was the best, and knew he was the best. And he remembered the overwhelming berserk rage that had seized him. He knew to be very prepared.

Bellamy was looking at the observers now, through the wall that was nearly opaque from his side. He felt, rather than saw. They'd given him some spare glasses they'd found, but he seemed to find them uncomfortable, and kept taking them off. Adrian was there, also Kate, Deirdre and Tom. He shook his head. He didn't think he liked knowing people any more. The people he knew always became old, and then they died and left him alone.

Patrick finally nudged him. "The pumpkin-head, Bellamy. You've got to cure the pumpkin-head."

Bellamy's gaze found the pumpkin-head, who, without warning, was a man again, screaming in rage, and on top of Bellamy, his hands around his throat. Even Ricky had been taken by surprise, but swiftly stunned him, and pulled Bellamy to his feet again.

"You're supposed to put them behind a barrier, Bellamy," reminded Patrick, as Graham smoothed a lotion over a bruised throat.

"I forgot," said Bellamy, humbly.

Kate, watching, was glad she hadn't allowed outside observers. It was better to keep the malaise of the great wizard as quiet as possible. The aurors were under strict instructions not to talk.

Reminded, Bellamy was more efficient with the next few pumpkin-heads, placing them behind the barrier, and even remembering to work at keeping them calm. Tom was very pleased. For most of them, it might take weeks or even months before they would be recovered, but his aurors were being rescued, one by one, from madness and death. One was a second cousin. Bellamy commented on that one, even before the monster had a face, "He's Family!" It was a great, great grandson whom he probably hadn't seen since he was a child. But it seemed he could tell anyway.

They looked after him with care and tact. Either Patrick, Fred or Gareth were next to him at all times, he was controlled by no more than a firm tone, if needed - and he was fed very well. Graham had a shrewd suspicion that over the last fourteen years, he may have come close to starvation far too often. Even now, he was too thin. There was a day off. Then there was to be another day at the Ministry, more pumpkin-heads from overseas, and a few other wizards under spells that had left them not quite human.

On the day off, Adrian was just in time to saddle a horse and follow Bellamy as he cantered, bareback, toward the gate. He wasn't trying to leave, but he'd always ridden on the moors when disturbed. He hadn't asked any of his staff about friends or relatives, but in the misty dawn, had been looking at the names on the stones in the small cemetery on his property. Chrissy was gone, the skinny, sad-eyed girl he'd picked up in London one day many years before. Bad-tempered Klaus, who'd done so well when they'd been attacked. Tracy too. Melissa. He was glad they'd been buried on his property. It made it as if they were not so far away. So many ghosts walked for him, though they were not real ghosts, just memories.

Another day of work, and another day off. They were trying to balance the urgency of the need for him with the equal need to keep him happy, and not over-worked. He'd said that crazy men were not allowed to disapparate, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it.

Archie and Ursula were at home waiting to greet him after work that day. Their son Peter, was five. Peter stared round-eyed at the young man who, they said, was really very old, and the boss. When instructed, he held out his hand to be shaken, and said, "Hello, Boss." His father and grandfather had always addressed Bellamy as Boss, even when very small.

Bellamy seemed still as if he was only very tentatively held. They needed something to keep him more securely at home with his family and friends. Beau had a suggestion. Three dogs ran at his heels now, two of them picked up at the pound just a few days before. But Beau had been struck by the pathos of another inmate. He guessed it to be a Doberman/Great Dane cross - a magnificent creature, a bitch, only about a year old, he suspected, but unsafe to handle. But Bellamy would be able to tame her - he had an exceptional communication with all animals. And a pet of his own would help hold him home.

It was as they knew. The pound staff called her 'Dobes,' and Bellamy looked at her, said softly "Dobes?" and she ran to him, whining. He held her then, tight, and he was crying. Beau looked away, embarrassed, but Sybil, who'd come, too, had tears in her own eyes. They'd brought the horse float, and all the cages that they'd needed last time they were rash enough to take Bellamy to the pound.

For a little while, Beau and Sybil thought they were going to be lucky, and that he would forget that other dogs and cats waited for death. He didn't forget, and three more dogs beside Dobes, and several more cats were loaded into cages.

In the back seat, Bellamy still held Dobes. Dobes was terrified of confinement, as he was himself. She was a very intelligent animal, and knew that this man with the sick mind had saved her. She didn't want to leave his side. He talked to her, continuously, gently, as he never talked to humans. And Beau and Sybil listened, as Beau drove them back. Bellamy told Dobes that she had to know other humans. He might have to go away, although he didn't know when. And he told her that Sybil was lonely, and that she should go to Sybil whenever he was away, or gone. The dog whined, and licked his face that still ran with tears.

There was an unexpected result. Beau and Sybil were much of an age. They'd never taken much notice of each other, but when Bellamy told the dog that Sybil was lonely, Beau thought that he, too, was lonely. A few evenings later, he invited her to join him to watch 'muggle TV,' and a few evenings after that, she spent the night with him for the first time.

Sybil looked at Bellamy differently these days. When he'd been the great wizard, she'd been terribly nervous of him. Once, she remembered, out of sheer nerves, she'd dropped a tray of muffins all over him. But now he was just a young man, almost a boy, and rather pathetic. In her clumsy fashion, she tried to spoil him, even more than Ursula and Naomi.

The new dogs didn't take long to learn their jobs, and were shared out among the staff. The cats were all treated with lifetime anti-conception spells. There were far too many cats around.

***chapter end***