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

Book 8/Part 2.

Chapter 6

They were home early the week they worked Holland, Thursday afternoon, rather than Friday, even with the extra patients from other countries that usually filled the last day or two. Early Friday morning, Beau noticed that Bellamy's mare, Jesse, was missing. Frowning, he checked the other horses. Jacko was gone, too. He paused, thinking, then went to the shed where the feed was stored. He was pretty sure that feed had been taken, as well as two horse blankets, and possibly a couple of other items. He reckoned the boss had cleared out, even though he was quite obviously totally incapable of looking after himself.

The aurors found him close to noon of the second day of his absence, his two horses walking peacefully along a country lane, a large dog with them. The dog barked, and Bellamy murmured to her, but if Bellamy saw the aurors, he took no notice. A couple of hours later, mid afternoon, young Paul Pickering joined him, just riding along with him on his own horse. Paul had been carefully briefed. He was not to try and exercise any control over Bellamy, just stay with him, and maybe after a while, he could be gently led home.

"Like straying stock?" Paul said, raising an eyebrow.

Patrick was offended. "Not like straying stock." His friend was just a bit lost right now, he thought sadly.

Bellamy spoke not a word to Paul as they rode side by side. For a long time, Paul even wondered if he'd registered his presence. It became late, and Paul was eighteen, with the healthy appetite of an eighteen-year-old, but Bellamy showed no sign of stopping.

At dusk, Bellamy rode off the road where an open area led down to a stream. The horses were watered and fed. Dobes was fed. Paul quietly tended to his own horse. Then Bellamy sat with his back to a tree, and stared at the night.

Paul was restless. What were they doing for dinner? He'd been equipped with plenty of money, but there were no shops here, and it appeared very much as if Bellamy had only thought to provide for his horses and his dog.

After a while, still without a word to Paul, Bellamy wrapped himself in the cape he wore, curled up under his tree, and slept. It was as if he was invisible, Paul thought resentfully. He checked his own backpack that his mother had provided for him. One thin picnic rug. A change of underwear. No provisions. But then he found a few food bars, and ate them with relief, washed down with some water from the stream. He pulled out his wand, conjured himself a few blankets, but knew that they were unlikely to last the night. Only Bellamy's conjures lasted very long, every one else's vanished, abruptly and unpredictably.

He lay down to sleep. Three hours later, only the picnic rug that his mother had provided was still in existence, and Paul, still restlessly asleep, was shivering. Warm, thick blankets were laid over him, and the youth pulled them to him with relief, and sank into a much deeper sleep.

In the morning, Paul watched admiringly as Bellamy ran casual fingers over his face, and the slight swarthiness of cheeks and chin, vanished. He suspected his clothes may have been cleaned by magic as well, though he'd stripped and washed himself in the cold water of the small stream. Thinking he'd best not be outdone, Paul gave himself a quick wash too, and used his wand to clean his clothes. He looked at the thick blankets he'd been provided with, wondering what to do with them, but they vanished in front of his eyes. Bellamy hadn't used a wand, and Paul stared, before remembering he'd heard of this. He was the only one, but the great wizard didn't need a wand to work magic.

Bellamy was talking to his horses, talking to his dog, and Paul said suddenly, resentfully, "You could talk to me, too, you know!" But Bellamy's eyes passed over Paul as if he didn't see him. And yet, later, when Paul said he had to stop a moment, and go behind a tree, Bellamy slipped off his horse too, and waited.

Mid morning, they passed through a small village. Paul stopped his horse, and Bellamy was quite sure that he could see his nostrils quivering.

"Wait here!" Paul ordered. "I'll get us some food."

Bellamy nodded, and reached for his own wallet. Paul watched, and then accused, incredulous, "You forgot your wallet!" He continued, "No provisions for yourself, no money - how long were you intending to travel again?"

Bellamy looked vague, "I don't know."

Paul said reassuringly, "Mum gave me lots of money, and told me to look after you. Stay here, I'll bring us some food."

Bellamy slipped off his horse, and waited with the three horses and the large dog, in the town square, quietly vanishing some dung when it became necessary.

The pair ate hungrily, enjoying a meal of greasy fish and chips, washed down with soft drink.

"Where are we going?" asked Paul. With a full stomach, he was beginning to enjoy this unusual journey.

"West," said Bellamy, "Then south."

"West, then south," said Paul mockingly. "You do make detailed plans, don't you?"

Bellamy almost smiled. The boy wasn't treating him with the tactful gentleness he'd become accustomed to.

That night, Paul shared out some provisions that he'd bought, and watched as Bellamy conjured a mattress, a pillow, then warm blankets. But Bellamy then just wrapped himself in his cape again, and lay down under the nearest tree. Paul looked from his own comfortable bed, to where Bellamy lay with no comforts at all.

"Why don't you make a bed for yourself?" he demanded.

Bellamy didn't answer. It was because crazy men weren't allowed to work magic, but Paul was tricking him into acknowledging his existence, and if he did that, then Paul would get old and die. He so hated people getting old and dying.

Sunday, Paul gave up trying to get Bellamy to talk to him, instead he used him as a listening post, and told him all about his own hopes and ambitions. Riding along gently together, Jacko trailing along behind, Paul talked. It was Monday, though, before he started talking about Helena. She was a muggle, Paul said, and Dad said he should look for a witch.

"A medj!" Bellamy said. "Not muggle. Muggle is a word that contains contempt in its very sound. Medj or Medjkind, as opposed to Wizardkind!"

They were the first words that Bellamy had spoken in several miles. Paul looked at him with surprise, "You don't think it would be wrong to marry a woman not a witch, then?"

Bellamy glanced at him. "Of course it's not wrong! This notion about pure breeding is really very irksome!" And then he added, "I guess I've been away too long, I would have taught you better if I were still a Professor!"

Paul said, boasting, "The Pickerings can trace their pure ancestry back over a thousand years!"

Bellamy said, "My mother's parents were Medjkind, and those who knew her said she was a warm and sympathetic person, which is a lot more important than being Pure-blood!"

Paul was silent for a while, then, turning over his words in his mind, and thinking again about Helena. He was beginning to miss her. He wondered how long this journey would last, although it would be something to tell his children and grandchildren.

Towns and villages were frequent enough for Paul to provide them both with at least one hot meal a day, and Bellamy accepted the meals with thanks, but no other comment..

Wednesday morning, as Bellamy again washed himself, this time in sea-water, Paul asked him, "How long are we going to be travelling like this?"

Bellamy replied, "The aurors'll come for me soon, I expect."

Paul asked, "How will they know where we are?"

"They've been watching us."

Paul looked around, surprised, "Have they?"

Bellamy looked at him, smiling slightly, "Didn't you know?"

Paul was looking a bit of a vagabond now, unshaven, and hair unwashed. Bellamy looked much the same as always, even his hair looking as if recently washed. "Go to Simon or Naomi when you get back, they'll pay you back for what I've cost."

Paul said, "If I hadn't paid for meals, would you have gone back?"

Bellamy shrugged, "Probably not. I always manage somehow."

Paul said, grinning, "You'd best remember your wallet when you decide to clear out next time."

Bellamy frowned, troubled. He reached down to touch Dobes, who liked to press close. He wondered again why Nathan hadn't done what he'd been meaning to do. It had been easier as they travelled, an undemanding life. And the clouds of confusion had receded a little. But the aurors would come for him.

That afternoon, the three horses walked to where a large horsebox waited. Patrick, Gareth, and Jed also waited. They had their fingers crossed, but Paul led Bellamy straight to them, and Bellamy slipped off his horse, spoke gently to the dog, and allowed them to take him to London, and then fly him to Sweden for the next week's work, a few days delayed.

Ursula had packed for him, even remembering to send his wand, and glasses, neither of which he had with him. Graham insisted on a full examination the moment they arrived at the hotel, and was surprised to find an improvement rather than a deterioration in several indicators, even an improvement in weight, in spite of the erratic lifestyle he'd enjoyed the previous few days.

It was the same luxury hotel they'd always used. For Bellamy, it was a significant place, where significant events happened. There had been a return to work, still in a wheelchair after a crippling illness, and there had been his first meeting with his sixteen-year-old son, Helmer Roos. There had been other things, too. Now there was pleasure in the indoor pool, the spa and the gymnasium, all of which he enjoyed that evening, under the eyes of Nathan and Alexander, whom he scarcely acknowledged.

Thursday, it was back to the routine. They were to work all week, including the weekend to make up for the late start, and then without a break to Austria. Bellamy did as he was told, but otherwise took not the slightest notice of the aurors, even when Nathan was stationed behind him. But Nathan had decided that he had a good life as it was, and if he didn't have to go away because he'd murdered his charge, then he could marry Kirstin, and have a family.

When Archie brought Bellamy home after the week in Austria, there were some changes. All the riding horses were gone, even a couple of the younger ones from the Old Horses' Paddock. Peter's small pony remained, mares with foals, and four others that were very old indeed. The tall gates were now locked all the time, holes under the high fences had been filled in, and the aurors, Therese and Katrina Abercrombie were on duty, day and night. There were two other aurors, also related to Bellamy, who took turns guarding the gate. The secrecy of Bellamy's home had been compromised, but at least Manfred was keeping knowledge of its whereabouts, as much as possible, within the family.

For someone who was not a prisoner, Bellamy appeared to have very little freedom. He was watched whenever he was out of doors, especially when he went close to the boundary of the property. They were not sure whether he noticed. He didn't appear to see the newcomers around the place, and only spoke to horses, dogs and cats.

Around the lunch table Saturday, several of the staff were assembled. Paul had ridden over, too, hoping to see the silent man who had somehow become a friend anyway. Josie was complaining. "It's as if we're just objects! He never looks at me, even when I've gone to a lot of trouble to make him a nice meal."

Sybil said, "He thanks you, doesn't he?"

"Yes," answered Josie, "But that's all! I don't think he even knows who I am!"

Caradoc was there, although Clare was off somewhere with her easel. And it was Caradoc who did some explaining. "I'm quite sure he knows exactly who you are," he said to Josie. "His trouble is that he cares about people too much, and now you're a part of his family, as much as anyone here. And now he's frightened that you'll leave him, as all his old friends leave him."

Josie protested, "I'm not going to leave him."

Naomi explained. "He thinks you'll get old and die, as your grandparents did."

Josie was silent. She hadn't quite comprehended how old Bellamy was.

Paul had said hello to Bellamy, but Bellamy's gaze had passed over him, and his greeting had been unacknowledged. Paul asked Caradoc, hopefully, "Do you think he cares about me?"

Caradoc smiled at him, "Didn't you tell me he conjured you blankets the first night, even before he spoke to you?"

Paul nodded, and Caradoc continued. "He doesn't use magic these days, he thinks it's too risky for a crazy man, but he used magic for you."

Paul smiled with relief. Somehow it was important to him that Bellamy should care about him.

Sunday, Bellamy wandered into Naomi's office, and asked that she give him a lot of money, cash, European and American currencies. Wizard gold was not required. Naomi looked at the boss, and filled his wallet for him. It was his own money, of course. Bellamy was a very wealthy man. The cash had been intended to pay some bills in the local village, but they could wait. "I'll have more American dollars for you next week," she said. "I'm afraid there's not much in the house."

Bellamy thanked her, and started to leave, but Naomi told him to wait, and took him to Beau's office. Beau had been sorting mail, and she pointed out the large pile of thank you letters, "Not just for the spell-breaking," she said, "People are writing to thank you for the return of law and order."

He looked a question, and she answered. "Some dark wizards have fled, others have gone quiet, you dealt with Spectra personally, and now that the aurors are less hard pressed, they've managed to overcome others. The courts have been busy for months."

Bellamy half-smiled, "Good."

Naomi wasn't sure that he thought it of great importance, so she took him to the kitchen instead and Josie gave him an ice-cream. He liked ice-creams. He went outside again, then, and Katrina kept an eye on him as he walked around the large building that had been used for Quidditch.

It looked like he'd taken Paul's advice, Naomi thought. He wouldn't forget his wallet next time. She was sure that he'd be gone again before long. She didn't tell the aurors that he now carried a very large amount of money, although she told Simon.

The following Monday, at the Ministry building, Patrick and Gareth, supervised by Manfred, led Bellamy to a large room where fourteen aurors were assembled. These were the aurors who had been pumpkin-heads, rescued only a few days after he returned to the wizarding world. Only one had been dead. They wanted Bellamy to know how valuable he was. They explained carefully, that these were men and women whom he had saved. And those whom he had rescued shook his hand, one by one, and thanked him. Bellamy was unresponsive, saying nothing that meant anything, and as soon as the procession was finished, looked at Patrick with an appeal in his eyes, so that Patrick took it upon himself to return him to the transport bay where his team waited.

He was almost equally unresponsive not long later, when some of his family gained approval for a meeting with him in the Ministry building. They had to promise faithfully not to spread stories about his state of mind, and even then, only a few were allowed. Young Sidney Bourne finally had the opportunity to thank him in person, but he only showed emotion when a baby was placed in his hands, and a rare smile crossed his face. He touched the cheek of the tiny Abercrombie, and it was only that night that the baby's face came back to him, and he moaned in his sleep as the baby became old and died in front of his eyes.

Bellamy turned a hundred and forty-one. A few days later, he walked hard in the night, followed by aurors. They thought it prudent to appear to give him as much freedom as possible. But quite suddenly, it appeared, he was out of sight in the dark. They found him quickly enough, as there were location devices planted on him now. They told him he had to come back. He did as he was told.

Gareth joined Nathan and Jason later that night, and used his own eavesdropping device to listen to the sad noises of the tormented man in his restless sleep.

That Friday afternoon, Gareth argued to Kate, Deirdre and Manfred that Bellamy should be allowed to go. Manfred stated firmly that no-one was keeping him prisoner, and that he could go whenever he chose.

Gareth said sadly, "You know he can't act of his own will, he just does what he's told. He'd be better set free."

Kate made the point that, in the years he was wandering, he was tracked down three times, and each time, it was noted that he was half starved.

"He was happier though, I think," said Gareth.

The next week, when Archie brought Bellamy in for work, there was someone new in charge of the team. Dieter Roche had been recruited from Germany in the years before Bellamy's return. He was a solid man with mid brown hair, streaked grey. Neither Patrick nor Fred were to travel any more. Manfred said they were not needed, that Bellamy only needed firm handling.

Graham disagreed. He thought that the old men had helped Bellamy feel a little stability. But Graham had been over-ruled. When Manfred formally introduced the new team leader to Bellamy, a rare smile lit his face. "Franz!" he said. "Franz!"

Dieter tried to clarify, "Dieter," he said. "My name is Dieter."

A baffled look crossed the face of Bellamy, and he was silent. The Great Wizard, thought Dieter, with some irony and a lot of disappointment.

But a few days later, he watched as the great wizard called up the strong magic to heal a wizard that he said was inflicted with intermingled spells. Afterward, Bellamy looked around at Graham, Alexander and Dieter, all still pale, and a little dizzy from the power that had resonated in the air, and led out the patient himself. And then, without fanfare, an instant shield protected him from a Death Curse that had come at him from one of those in the waiting room. But while Jed placed that wizard under arrest, he went wandering off again, only just stopped from going swimming by Jason, who had to run to catch him.

They never knew how they eventually lost him. It was in Hungary, four weeks after Dieter took over from Gareth. The week's work was just finished, his cape and wand were left in the workroom, and, just suddenly, it seemed, he wasn't there. They knew he never apparated, and they knew he never used magic except for the spell-breaking. That was under orders, and in his confused mind, allowed. They found a few location devices behind a tree close to where they lost him. Maybe he wasn't far away. They searched, but discreetly. And when the news spread that work was cancelled, they said that it was only due to a mild illness, and that the great wizard would be working again shortly.

Dobes fretted for a few weeks, but then attached herself to Sybil, sleeping beside her bed every night, whether that was in her own bedroom, or that of Beau.

Bellamy very quickly forgot why he had to travel at night, and when he wandered into a labour exchange in Greece, several weeks later, and was asked his name, he gave the first name that came to him, 'Stuart Appleby.' Shortly after, he joined a work crew for some fruit picking. They thought he was simple, and looked after him a little, making sure he remembered to come in for meals, and that he didn't wander in the wrong direction after work. He'd lost his glasses.

***chapter end***