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

Part 2/ Chapter 5

The young aurors were looking at him very differently these days. They knew that he could break spells that no-one else could, of course, and that was the main reason he was needed. But having been in the position almost of nursemaids, they had started to feel some contempt for him. Now they'd seen him in the courtroom, displaying the bearing of the great wizard he was, and now they'd seen him fight, in a way that no-one else had ever been able to fight. Most of them had seen his 'strong magic' by now, also.

Later that week, still in Germany, Graham commented on a patient done that day. "It was only a Boils Curse. I thought it must have been a mistake, like those ones in Russia years ago. But it wasn't."

Bellamy was reading a paper. He mostly wore his glasses these days, and this time, he made a casual comment. "It was my own spell. He must have tried to attack me at some stage."

Gareth leapt to attention. "Why didn't you tell us? He should have been arrested."

Bellamy said vaguely that he didn't know. They quizzed him further. He seemed to think that it might have been about six months before.

"In Australia, then?" Gareth asked, surprised. "Enemies found you in Australia?"

Bellamy was more vague than ever. He didn't think it was in Australia.

Unusually, Gareth was persistent. Patrick was watching closely, feeling that Bellamy should not be upset. Graham, too. Gareth was a trained and experienced interrogator, but Bellamy was defeating him. He was looking increasingly vague, staring at the walls, and finally getting up to leave. Gareth asked him to please stay, to please sit down. Bellamy sat down, and Gareth finally got an answer from him. "I think it might have been here. I wanted to be alone and slipped the aurors."

Gareth frowned. "You were spell-breaking, then?" Again he asked how long ago it had been.

Bellamy thought he knew this one, and said with confidence, "About six months ago."

Gareth said slowly, deliberately, "It's been over fourteen years since last you did spell-breaking in Germany." Bellamy nodded, and started reading his paper again.

There was a conference that Friday afternoon, after Archie took Bellamy home. Graham, Gareth, Patrick, Tom, Kate and Deirdre. Bellamy's apparent recovery was an illusion, Graham concluded, and the fact that he refused to apparate, in spite of encouragement, was a good indication that he knew it himself. Bellamy continued to be protected. Deaths were concealed from him, and Patrick or Fred continued to travel with the team. Archie and Ursula were in full agreement, and cooperated. Bellamy's fragile peace of mind was protected.

After some cold weather in early February, there was a thaw. Peter was provided with a pony by his fond 'Uncle Beau,' and started to learn to ride. Bellamy was interested, and leaned against the fence, watching. Dobes leaned against his side, and there were a couple of cats close to him. The animals never seemed to worry that he wasn't right in the head. After a few lessons on the quiet pony, Peter was confident enough to ride in company, not even on a leading rein.

The following Saturday, Simon suggested to Bellamy that he might like to ride over to visit Bridon and Diane Pickering with them, since they lived so close. Bellamy was surprised, "Are they still alive?"

Simon answered rather crossly, "Of course. They're not that old, hardly older than I am!"

Bellamy turned vague, and looked away. "Sorry."

Simon was seventy-two, Bridon ten years older, though Diane was younger.

Simon saddled Peter's pony, and a horse for himself. Bellamy was still hovering close. It seemed he wanted to go but was doubtful of his welcome after Simon's crossness. Simon was sorry for him. This was the boss, and looked now so unsure of himself. He said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Will I saddle Jesse for you?"

Bellamy smiled, relieved, "I don't like saddles," but he turned and whistled for his horse, who came to him. Simon attached a piece of rope to the mare's halter as reins, an unnecessary aid to Bellamy, but something was needed in case they were seen by medj.

Peter mounted neatly, Simon smiling his approval. He was a bit stiff, himself, as he pulled himself into the saddle, but Bellamy leapt to his seat with the vigour of athletic youth. It was only a short way to the next door property, and the horses only walked, trotting just the short way down the drive. Peter rose to the trot in another newly learned skill. Bellamy seemed to simply flow with the horse.

It was a fine day, and mares and half-grown foals nibbled the grass, still scanty after the cold days of winter. Bridon and Diane were very pleased to see Bellamy, although the Barnes family were frequent visitors. Diane had grown up on Bellamy's place, and now gave him a hug, and introduced him to her younger son, Paul, soon to be eighteen, and working with them. His older brother had left the area, but Paul loved the horses, and wanted one day, not too soon, to himself take over the property and the stud.

They showed him their prize exhibit, a three year old colt, destined to be their new stallion. Bellamy caressed the magnificent creature. Bridon, watching him, suddenly asked, "Would you like to ride him?"

It was to the horror of the attendant. The black colt was a spirited animal, and had never been trained to accept the saddle. But Bellamy turned a wide smile to Bridon, and when Jimmy put his objections, Bridon told him confidently, "Just watch!" And Jimmy watched as Bellamy leapt onto the back of the horse, and cantered around the paddock. And then there was a suggestion, and the horse was rearing, bucking and plunging, to the apparent glee of his rider, who had not the slightest difficulty in staying on his back, and laughed his delight. Simon was pleased. It had been so long since he'd seen the boss play like this. The young ones, both Paul and Peter, watched, mouths agape.

The following week, Spain. Bellamy had the same five aurors he mostly had, as well as Gareth and Patrick. He appeared alert and competent, although they took no risks, and representations from the Spanish that they should be allowed to meet the great wizard, maybe at dinner, were denied. He was unpredictable, and the British Ministry didn't want him to betray himself.

Bellamy was alarmed when Therese and Katrina went into action, arresting two wizards who were trying to organise for his meal to be poisoned. When he heard, he fussed, running a shaking hand over his forehead, and insisting that his girls should not be doing dangerous things. But Therese and Katrina were aurors, and made a very efficient team, which was why they nearly always worked together. Jed was close, and had been doing some reading. There was a lot written about the great wizard, including his early history. He queried, "Wasn't your first wife an auror?"

Bellamy looked to a place next to Jed, and smiled, suddenly calm. "Ginny was an auror, but she gave it up."

Ginny smiled and nodded at him, and Bellamy smiled back. Rather nervously, Jed glanced at the place Bellamy looked, and then asked, "Did she give it up because you told her it was too dangerous?"

Bellamy replied, "She gave it up because she thought she might be sent against me one day." He added. "I didn't know then, but that's why Margaret and Vicky gave up their ambition to be aurors, too."

Patrick relaxed in a chair opposite. Even often silent, abstracted, Bellamy was winning the affection of the young aurors.

Jed was making the most of this opportunity. He was very interested, and Bellamy was talking more than usual. "Were you so lawless, then, that you could have been arrested?"

Bellamy shook his head. "I hardly ever killed anybody." And he smiled again. "I was terribly respectable for a while, even a member of the Wizemgamot."

Jed persisted. "Then why might aurors have been sent against you?"

Bellamy shrugged. "The Ministry does that now and then. They think I should be locked up."

Patrick knew more than Jed knew. "They tried to lock him up twice when he was seventeen, also when he was twenty-four, when he was in his fifties, and then attacked him again ten years or so later."

"Was that when you were convicted of unlawful killing?"

Bellamy was getting tired of the questioning, and rose from his chair. "Going for a walk," he said, and Jed had to go with him. Bellamy always walked fast, and Jed soon had no breath left to resume the questioning. And when he started asking questions again, Bellamy only treated him to one of his vague and utterly frustrating stares.

That night, Bellamy woke with a scream of terror. His nightmare of confinement was much more specific than usual. The Ministry had him, drugged and helpless, confined because he was crazy. He emerged from his room, as the aurors had come to expect he might now and then. The girls were guarding his door, insensibly reassuring. Family wouldn't do that to him. But he still trembled as he walked. He walked for a long time that night, and was tired in the morning.

He was more vague in the morning, too. He forgot his wand, and someone had to be sent back for it. Then at morning tea, he started heading toward the sea, and had to be reminded that he was supposed to be working. He swam after work. As usual, everyone else thought it far too cold. But the water made him feel better, and Graham noticed that he seemed more relaxed. There had been several trembling attacks that day, though the work had gone perfectly smoothly.

At dinner, the aurors were talking about the funeral. Bellamy didn't like funerals, and maybe he, too, felt he needed to be protected. He didn't ask, and no-one told him.

It was only the following evening, he heard more. "A full Auror's Funeral, of course, since he died on duty, even though it was only a heart attack."

Bellamy stared at Alexander, who had spoken, and looked down. The words came out in spite of himself. "Who?" No-one answered him, but he spoke again, himself. "Tom," and his words re-awoke the sea of pain that he carried inside him. Tom was his great grandson, who had become old and died, as everyone around him became old and died. He stared blindly into the distance, tears running down his face. Therese sat beside him, and held him, but he didn't appear to notice. She, too, would become old, and die. He was alone, and would always be alone. After an hour, when he sat staring into the distance, trembling, and with tears on his face, Graham brought him a steaming potion, and instructed him to drink. And when Graham made a test, that most responsive of measures, the Nisco LV, showed a decisive drop.

One more day's work, and then they were to go home the following morning. Bellamy's confusion seemed to have made a resurgence, and he accepted the guidance of the aurors without demur. At the end of the day, Graham said with a sigh of relief, "Finished!"

Bellamy looked at him. Finished. He started walking. Three hours later, he still walked, Jed and Alexander with him, but being ignored. They remembered Gareth's words. He was not a prisoner, and could walk if he chose. But they were beginning to suspect this was not just a walk. They called Gareth, and he and Patrick both apparated close. Jed and Alexander dropped back, and Patrick and Gareth took up station either side of Bellamy. He didn't appear to notice.

Patrick touched his shoulder. "Would you mind walking a little slower, Bellamy? Gareth's getting on a bit." Gareth made a face. He wasn't nearly as old as white-haired Patrick. But Bellamy slowed down, and after a little, came to a halt, looking around blindly.

"You can't run away every time someone dies," said Patrick, in a matter-of-fact voice. Bellamy still stared in the direction he'd been going, and tears again ran down his face. He was a pitiful object, and his friends felt pity. But he had to come back. He was irreplaceable, and besides, he couldn't look after himself.

He had no nightmares that night. Instead, he fretted and muttered unhappily in his dreams, talking to Ginny, talking to Luna and to Julie. They didn't think how he felt. It was so lonely when everyone died.

Bellamy's friends at home were dismayed to see his deterioration. Again, he wandered in a daze, and talked to no-one. The tall gates were closed, though not locked, except at night. He was not to be a prisoner, of course, but was less likely to wander off the property if there was no inviting driveway beckoning him. Dobes stayed closer to him than ever, nuzzling him now and then. She knew he was distressed, though to humans it was mostly shown now in an increasing vagueness.

Archie and Ursula were at Tom's funeral, and used the opportunity to consult with Graham, and Tom's second in command. It was decided that work was to continue. Even when most vague, he could still work his miracles. The four months of work he'd done since his return, was a long way short of making up for fourteen years' absence.

In Sweden, Austria, Switzerland, a week's work in London, then France, he stayed the same. The clouds of confusion had returned, and again the aurors managed him with tactful guidance, and occasionally the firm voice which he always now obeyed. Manfred was awarded the position again as head of the Auror Department. He was no longer worried that it would be necessary for Bellamy to be put down. He was useful still, obedient, and there was also the evidence that he'd wandered the world alone, for years, and hurt nobody.

Graham recommended that Therese and Katrina Abercrombie be replaced, as he thought they disturbed Bellamy. A young auror called Jason Brodbeck was rostered, to his pleasure, as he'd always wanted to work with the legendary figure. There was also Nathan Bagster, Bellamy's refusal to work with him years before, having been forgotten.

Bellamy looked vaguely at the team that gathered that Monday, and thought that it was as he'd feared, Therese and Katrina had become old and died. Family and friends always became old and died. He wouldn't know people any more, and the aurors found that he no longer addressed them by name, and quite often acted as if they were not there at all.

Competently, Nathan and Jason joined the team that looked after Bellamy. Fred was now mostly with them these days, Gareth still in charge.

At home, the weather was warmer, and his staff were not so disturbed when they found that Bellamy had spent a part of the night sleeping outside, usually in the Old Horses' paddock, although once curled up against the locked gates, which was worrying.

It took a few weeks before Nathan had his opportunity. He was the only night guard, as most of the aurors were sick with a tummy bug, actually a mild poisoning. It was to be a quick knife thrust into the sleeping man, a disapparation, and wealth for the rest of his life. Arrangements had been made. There were no ties at home that could not be cut, and he'd had his eyes on this reward for a very long time.

Bellamy was clearly visible in the dim light from the wide open window. He lay prone, his blankets thrust away, wearing only sleeping shorts. He'd been muttering earlier, as Nathan had heard, listening from outside the room, but now he lay deeply asleep. Nathan held the long and very sharp knife ready. There was an old knife scar already curving down the ribs of the sleeping man, although the more faint scar next to it was not quite visible in the poor light.

Nathan still hesitated. Bellamy waited, unmoving. Nathan stepped back, and put away his knife, silently backing away. Bellamy heard his door open and close, and turned on his back. Why not? And after a little, tears began trickling down his face. Nathan had been going to do it for him, even though he wasn't allowed to do it himself. Why hadn't he done it?

An hour later, Nathan, back on guard outside, again heard the distressed muttering of Bellamy's sleep. He was defending himself. Ginny was accusing, and Luna was judging. Bellamy spoke aloud, suddenly, quite clearly, "You never said I couldn't let someone else do it!" Nathan flinched. He'd heard enough of Bellamy's dreams to know what he argued about. Had he been awake then, when Nathan hovered over him, knife in hand?

***chapter end***