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

PART 3/Chapter 1

Bellamy hadn't remembered his moneybelt when he was starving, although Beth had told him to remember it when he needed it. Now he remembered it. He wanted a writing machine, and apparated into the small wizarding area in Stockholm that he knew well, bought himself one, and then went to the luxury hotel where he'd stayed often before. Boedil at the reception desk looked at him disapprovingly, jeans, shirt, light jacket, no coat, though it was mid winter, in Sweden. She asked him to pay in advance. Bellamy paid a month in advance, but she still gave him the cheapest room.

When he was shown to his room, he frowned. It was not satisfactory, and he was upgraded to a larger room that had a desk and chairs. And then he set up his writing machine on the desk, tossed a loaf of bread onto a table, and started to write.

The following morning, the cleaner knocked at his door. There was no answer, and she entered the room. Oblivious to distractions, a thin, rather shabby man, sat at what appeared to be a small computer. He was talking to it, softly, continuously. She had to ask him twice whether she should come back later, before he even seemed to notice she was there.

Slowly, he looked around him, frowning, as if not quite sure where he was. She saw that he wore glasses, and had a very poor haircut. A small backpack lay on the floor and an opened loaf of bread was on the table, with a couple of slices missing. He was looking a bit dazed, and she reminded him to take his key when he said that he would go out for a little while.

Bellamy knew the area well, and found himself a meal at a fast food place not far away. He knew the hotel well, too, and went to the heated swimming pool for some needed exercise, although shuddering away from the bubbling spa. It seemed it was all right to conjure again, as he suddenly had a large towel and swimmers. Smoothly, he lapped the pool a few times, but his mind was on his book, and after a while, he tried to find his room.

The porter led him back to his room and waited for a tip, but the man immediately forgot his existence, and just sat in front of his computer and started talking to it. Brand shook his head, and left him to it.

Every day, Mai's appearance to clean was the signal for him to go out, and get a meal and some exercise. Occasionally, in his room, he'd eat a slice of bread, or have a drink of water from the tap. He didn't even take the time to make himself coffee, although facilities were in his room.

After a week, Mai quietly replaced his loaf of bread with a fresh loaf when she noticed it was becoming mouldy. A few days later, she begged an old coat from Brand, and when Bellamy rose from his computer, she told him to put it on, as it was very cold outside. She wasn't sure if he even noticed it was not his, and again had to remind him to take his key.

Brand was beginning to know him well, too, after leading him back to his room three times. And when he laughed about it, two of the other porters said that they'd done the same job. He was beginning to be a topic of conversation, the verdict being that he was a mad genius. There was never anything to read on his computer, although they were all sure that they'd seen writing.

One bitter day, when snow fell, Brand asked him why he didn't go to one of the hotel restaurants. Mai, Brand, and Boedil had been in consultation. He was too thin, and they thought he was getting thinner. He needed someone to look after him. But it was only when Brand said firmly that he should go to the hotel restaurant, and order a good meal with vegetables, that he did as suggested. He forgot to pay, though, and, instead, it was added to his bill.

Boedil was concerned that he'd run out of money. It was a very expensive hotel, and his clothing and lack of possessions did not indicate wealth. Mai asked him the following day, and he replied absent-mindedly that he had lots of money. But it must have reminded him, because he reported to reception, and paid more money for meals and accommodation.

"Tell me when it runs out, and I have to pay some more," he said, and wandered away, looking as vague as always.

He became a bit of a project with the staff, then, and Mai, or the other cleaner, would make sure he wore his coat when he went out, and remembered his key, and one of the porters, usually Brand, would knock at his door, and tell him it was time to come to dinner. After he had difficulty choosing meals, and then wandered off when it took a while to come, they gave him his own regular table, and had a meal ready for him when he arrived.

Except for courteous thank yous, he scarcely seemed to notice what they did for him, and none of them were quite sure whether he even knew who they were. But after another week, the swimming pool attendant passed on his observation that he was no longer as thin.

The book was taking up all Bellamy's mind. When Mai arrived one day, and handed him his coat, he thanked her absent-mindedly as he always did, and went out, not noticing that Alexander and Jed waited outside his door, and followed him. He bought himself something to eat, and sat looking at the sea. The bodyguards watched for danger. This time, when he stopped and looked confused, it was Alexander who guided him to his room. He gave him the same absent-minded thank you as he gave to Mai.

He went in, Alexander following him, and sat down again at his writing machine, his quiet voice beginning again. Alexander shook his head. He knew the man was brilliant, he knew he'd written some very well regarded books, but wondered what he was up to now. Somehow, he couldn't quite understand the words that Bellamy spoke, although he was sure that it was English. He quietly checked the bathroom for enemies, before leaving the room and taking guard outside.

The hotel staff were now totally convinced that he had to be an eccentric genius. He had a team of bodyguards suddenly looking after him, and Boedil was told to just send a monthly account to an address, and not to worry him about payment. A breakfast tray was to be taken to his room every day, as well. Alexander didn't think a half-stale loaf of bread was a proper meal.

Dieter Roche, whom Bellamy had once called Franz, was in charge of the team of aurors. Carefully, they didn't intrude, leaving him to his established routine, worried that he'd vanish again, for more years. Rumours of his presence had not yet spread far. Helmer was still the head of wizardry in Sweden, and gave all cooperation to his English colleagues.

Bellamy was accustomed to Mai, and she was happy to see that he was to be properly looked after. When Mai, at her accustomed time, knocked and entered the room for the morning cleaning, Graham came in after her. "Hello, Bellamy," he said quietly, "I've just come to check you over."

To his relief, Bellamy just nodded, "Graham," and even sat still while he touched a couple of sensors to the back of his hand to check the Niscos and weight.

Graham thought he'd best not push his luck, and stood back, then, leaving Mai to hold his coat for him, and tell him bossily to have a good walk for the exercise, as it was a nicer day then normal, and to make sure and have a meal. He thanked her, and accepted the key that she gave him. She was sure that he'd never remember it without her.

Dieter watched after him as he went, Alexander and Jed with him, and Swedish aurors scattered around his accustomed route as well. He turned to Graham. "Well?"

Graham was smiling. "He made no objection to me checking the Niscos and weight, though I didn't try for anything else. And the LV is considerably up. Still a fair way down from his normal, but I've never actually seen him at his normal." And he added, "Weight's way down, though."

Dieter asked, "Do you think he's getting better?"

Graham smiled ruefully. "When he stops getting lost whenever he goes out, we might be able to say he's getting better."

Beth, consulted, said just to leave him alone, and that he'd come back to them when he was ready. And she agreed, definitely, that family should stay away. They didn't think he'd leave yet, as he so obviously had no thought to spare for anything other than his writing. They soon knew he was sleeping quietly every night, but always for only four or five hours. And then, early in the morning, the quiet voice would start again. They went in and out of his room a little bit, but not very much, and still using Mai, whom he was accustomed to. Mai was getting a large bonus in her wages now, for helping look after him, and several other staff had been well rewarded as well, both with a bonus in their paypackets, and, equally important to most, unqualified praise from management.

Dieter, Alexander and sometimes Graham, started sharing Bellamy's table at dinner, having what he had. Dieter always accompanied Mai when she knocked and entered mid-morning, which was the signal for him to go out, get some exercise, and have some lunch if he remembered. Now that he was having a regular dinner, he was beginning to forget about lunch. Dieter always walked with him when he went outside, whoever else went. They occasionally had a thank you from him, but they had not yet attempted any guidance or other interference

The day that he started to eat his meal, and then abandoned it, they knew his enemies had found him. Prudently, they abandoned their own meals, and luckily only Graham was a little ill, and treated himself without problem. They wondered that anyone still bothered to try and poison him. He always knew, but they posted an auror in the kitchens after that. Some of the older staff remembered that sort of a precaution from a long time ago, when apparently a very important, but mysterious figure stayed, always very well guarded.

Warmer clothes arrived for him from home, and, apparently without noticing, he started to wear what Mai laid out for him the previous night. But when she started to help him into a warm, thick cape for his walk outside, he frowned, and said that he wanted his coat.

Mai said, "Don't be silly. This is much better."

But Bellamy said stubbornly that he liked his coat.

Dieter was watching, and asked, "Where did you get your coat, Bellamy?"

Bellamy answered, "I think someone gave it to me," and Mai smiled in pleasure. He may have not apparently noticed, but it seemed he knew and valued his gift. She went and got Brand's old coat for him, and watched after him with a smile, as he and Dieter left together, and Alexander and Jed fell in behind.

At dinner that night, a very young man, introduced to Bellamy as Brian Draffen, took Graham's usual place. Bellamy nodded and stared again into the distance, as he did whenever he was not actually writing or eating. They suspected that his writing went on in his head, even when he was not actually at his machine.

As instructed, Brian quietly started to eat his own dinner, as Dieter and Alexander chattedeasily about a recent Verostic match. But then he started to do what he was there for.

Abruptly, Bellamy rose from the table, snapping, "Don't!" He turned to Dieter, and added, "And I don't want family around me, either, thank you, Franz!" And he was gone.

"He's disapparated!" exclaimed Alexander. "I thought he didn't do that any more!"

Brian was staring at where he'd vanished. "I'm not family!' he said. "I'm no relation."

Alexander leaned back in his chair, half smiling at the boy. "Maybe you should check your ancestry. Bellamy always knows."

But Dieter said cuttingly, "He just called me Franz again. He probably doesn't know at all!" And then, efficiently, competently, he spoke to Jed, and to Jon, leader of the Swedish aurors, about mounting a search. He wished he'd planted location devices on him, but they'd been reluctant to risk irritating him. The telepathic probing that young Brian had been attempting had been deemed worth the risk.

Bellamy was in a temper, striding hard along a seaside path, not very far away. How dare they try to interfere with him! He was entitled to some privacy, and he thought that he should pick up his writing machine, and leave. But then he started writing in his head, forgot his temper, and in a while, stopped, staring at the sea, and then, vaguely, around him. He was lost. And he shouldn't disapparate, because one had to be very clearminded for that.

A shopper took pity on him after a while, as he stood under a street light and stared around him. "Are you lost?" And she checked the name on his hotel key, made sure he had some money, and put him in a taxi to take him back.

Bellamy quite courteously thanked the taxi driver, and started to walk away. The taxi driver gave him a blunt reminder - he expected to be paid. Bellamy flushed and apologised, giving a large tip.

The hotel porter met him, quickly followed by Jed as soon as he noticed. When the taxi driver complained that he was obviously gaga, and shouldn't be let out on his own, they both jumped in to defend him, the porter saying he was a genius, and Jed saying that he had no idea!

"Do you want to go back to your room, now?" asked Jed, ready to guide him.

But Bellamy said that he was going for a swim. Afterward, he looked at the spa, and it was no longer connected in his mind with unpleasantness, but only the remembered feeling of loving and tenderness. He no longer remembered Mario, Angelo, and the others, although it was their warmth, and the love of Mario, that had allowed him to turn the corner toward recovery. But there was a long way to go. And when Dieter put on his swimmers, and slipped in with him, and Bellamy calmly greeted him as Franz, Dieter knew there was a long way for him to go. Bellamy lay his head back on the yielding head rest on the edge of the spa, closed his eyes, and wore a look of contentment. Dieter wondered whether he even remembered the incident at dinner.

Graham waited for them when Bellamy returned to his room, and asked if he minded him doing a few checks. But Bellamy said absent-mindedly, "Not now," and went straight back to his writing machine, and started to talk.

Graham gently touched a couple of sensor devices to his hand, which he ignored, noted down the results, and left him. He wanted very much to do a thorough examination, but they still didn't dare risk irritating him.

Brian had been slammed out of Bellamy's mind the moment he tried to see, and was sent home, where he pestered his parents for a family tree. Bellamy wasn't on it, and he shook his head. Maybe it was as Dieter said, he didn't know after all.

During the next few weeks, they managed to influence Bellamy sufficiently that he was having a regular lunch, and Graham finally said that he was back up to a reasonable weight. He still hadn't managed to get him to agree to be properly examined, but was checking him out when he went into the swimming pool, or the spa. He quietly noted that there were new scars, almost certainly from the flogging, but few knew of that. It seemed rather shameful that their great wizard could have been such a pathetic creature that some probably perfectly ordinary man, had whipped him. It was lucky they never knew of a certain massage table! Guido had been very scanty with his information when questioned, so they never knew about the incident on the Marchesa, either.

Bellamy's activities at his writing machine changed. Now he mostly read over what he'd written, occasionally using the keyboard to make a correction or an addition. For another four weeks, he worked like that, but in a more leisurely fashion. He was no longer getting lost, and quite often acknowledged the aurors, even by name. When reminded, he started mostly calling Dieter by his correct name, too. Mai, he always greeted with real friendliness, and the other staff, too. They'd looked after him when he was distracted, and unlike the aurors, it was not because it was their job, or because they wanted him to work.

Now that it was spring, the weather was a little warmer, and his walks were longer. He startled the aurors once by suddenly slipping behind them, and taking a different street. It seemed he wasn't trying to lose them, though, and when Alexander asked him what he did that for, he spoke as if it should have been obvious. "There was a policeman!"

Finally, there came the day when he seemed to have leisure to use the gymnasium, leisure to stroll the streets, and buy a horrendously bright, woollen jumper. At dinner, instead of staring vaguely into the distance, he listened to the talk, and surprised them by asking about the rules of Verostic, which was a recent craze.

At coffee, he casually announced that he'd finished his book, and would do three or four weeks spell-breaking if they wanted him. "But here," he added. "I'm not going home."

The others were staring at him in surprise. "And I want to be paid in cash - in American dollars, please."

Dieter was nodding, trying not to let too wide a smile appear. He took pride in appearing imperturbable, but one of the aurors looked very odd these days, and another was helpless in hospital. There were a couple of others he knew, too.

"When can you start?" he asked, pretending to be totally unsurprised.

Bellamy was watching him, amused. "Tomorrow, if you want," and grinned when Dieter rose quickly from the table and went to see Jon. Afterwards, as if perfectly at home, he joined the aurors in the small sitting room they used.

Dieter found him there. "You said you wanted to be paid in cash, in American dollars. Do you want it in advance?"

Bellamy shook his head. "Not in advance, and I don't expect to be working long. So children and the most urgent cases first." But he continued, businesslike, "I can do a lot more than the usual sixty or so a day, and there's no need to stop for weekends. I'll work through for a while."

Graham said firmly, "I'll have to have a proper look at you, then. And I won't be fobbed off this time! We can't risk your health!"

Bellamy gave a sudden laugh. A memory had come to him of doling himself out some old and withered berries, relishing them one by one. It was the first food he'd had in days. Still smiling, he agreed.

Graham wasn't missing his chance, and rose. "In my room then, straightaway."

Obediently, Bellamy rose, too, leaving behind some very surprised aurors at this sudden attack of sanity and cooperation.

Graham was pleased with various indicators of health, and had a good look at those new scars on his side. Testing, he asked how he'd got them.

Surprised, Bellamy looked down at his side, twisting, and then inspected himself in the mirror. "No idea," he said finally. "But it's a pest. I reckon I already had enough scars to be going on with!"

Graham didn't mention that in a file were photographs of the result of a flogging. He worried that this might be just a short-lived improvement as they'd seen before, and he'd noticed that Bellamy had declined payment in advance. They would still take as much care as possible not to upset him, and no-one would have easy access, not even family. There was the fact that, in spite of an improvement, sec and niv measures were still down a touch, and LV decisively down from his normal. With the mental acuity and alertness monitors apparently useless with him, the LV measure appeared to be the most indicative of the state of his mental health.

At breakfast the following morning, Jed asked him about his book, and when it would be published.

But Bellamy shook his head. "It was a book only for me, and I made just one copy, and sent it home."

"So no-one will ever read it but you?" asked Jed.

"Not unless someone comes along who can break my spells," said Bellamy calmly.

"Seems a waste!"

Bellamy shook his head. "It wasn't a waste for me." And not long later, he wore the cape of a wizard, took up his wand that Archie had sent over, and started working his miracles. They were mostly Swedes that morning, as he'd taken them by surprise, but by the afternoon, his patients included children from a dozen countries, as well as some pitifully crippled witches and wizards. An English auror made his arrival on an ambulance trolley, and was casually cured with a second's attention from the great wizard.

They worked late, and Graham insisted on checking the Niscos before dinner. No change in LV, energy levels perfectly good, but Bellamy frowned at him, "You're not going to start fussing, are you?"

Graham hastily shook his head, and said that he was sure that Bellamy would tell them if he was tired. Bellamy grinned. Sure, just like he always had.

The next day was Friday, and again the work was routine. Dieter handed him a paypacket that afternoon, and he studied it, even counting the money. Dieter watched in surprise.

Bellamy saw him, and reddened. "It seems that somewhere along the track, I may have learned the importance of a paypacket." And then he grinned. "Easier money than most I've earned lately!"

Young Brian Draffen was back, sitting with them at dinner. Dieter gave the reason, "Pumpkin-heads tomorrow, nearly all of them from Italy. I thought Brian might be able to learn to tell if they were alive."

Bellamy nodded, but frowning. He didn't think he liked the boy. And when he felt the slightest of gentle probes, Brian heard in his mind, Don't you dare!

Brian recoiled, "I wouldn't," he said, shaking his head vehemently. "I wouldn't!"

Bellamy spoke aloud this time, "You'd better not!"

Dieter watched the byplay with a frown. He knew that Laurie and Johns had put the boy up to it, but disapproved. Didn't they realise that Bellamy would just leave again if they annoyed him? He was no longer taking orders.

That evening, Bellamy strode along the footpaths of Stockholm at a pace that made the aurors stretch to keep up. Jed was complaining about it to Ryde a bit later. Ryde was amused. "At least he'll get you ready for the fitness tests."

Jed nodded, "There is that."

Aurors had to pass an annual fitness test, or transfer to a different department unless there was a suitable desk job available. And Jed was big and broad, with a tendency to put on weight. He often had trouble.

The morning, as promised, pumpkin-heads. It was depressing. One after another, they were dead. Bellamy spoke irritably to Graham. "It's as if I don't have any rights of my own! I go away for a year or two, and then this awful thing happens to people!" Graham wondered if he had any idea just how long he'd been away. Except for that brief nine months' stint, it had been all but twenty years!

There was a pause, and several ordinary patients were led in, which Bellamy cured with a glance. For him it was all a bit of a bore, and when one young man kept pulling away from the auror trying to lead him out, in order to thank him repeatedly, he said in an irritated voice that he'd brought it on himself. If he hadn't been duelling, he wouldn't have needed curing! The young man drew himself up, and stated firmly that duelling was an honourable tradition.

"Just get out!" Bellamy told him.

Graham exchanged a glance with Dieter. He'd never been irritable when confused. Did it mean that he was getting better, or could it mean that he might become dangerous? And yet, he was giving afflicted people a new lease of life. There was another large contingent of pumpkin-heads expected shortly.

He still wore the irritable frown at lunch time, and was treated with care. But this was wrong, too, as he suddenly swore, and said, "Stop treating me as if I might blow up! I'm not about to hurt anybody!" And he pushed aside his meal and leaned against the wall instead, glowering.

They were keeping Brian well away from him, just having him check the pumpkin-heads as they came in, and seeing how he agreed with Bellamy. But so far, they'd just all been dead. Out of the next six pumpkin-heads, finally, they struck a live one. Bellamy's frown miraculously cleared. He had always been affected by the dreadfulness of the pumpkin-head curse, feeling for the victims of an indescribably awful imprisonment. "You'd best bring Brian in," he told Dieter. "He can see how it's done."

There was no delay, as an ambulance team had been waiting most of the day for something to do. Dieter sent Brian in, and another auror called Cindy, who was very much like her father, Ricky - small, slight, and lightning fast. Alexander was there, too. Bellamy's eyes lingered on Cindy for a moment before he shook himself. He never went with witches, and besides, crazy men weren't allowed to have sex. But was he really crazy any more? He wasn't quite sure.

"Listen with your mind," he told Brian, "And you'll see how it's done."

Brian was hesitant. "Are you sure?"

"Try it when I don't invite you, and I'll turn you into a frog," said Bellamy, quite casually. "But as soon as I start the job, you are invited. Only to listen to me fixing him of course, nothing else." But his mind was very well guarded. Brian might have had a stronger talent than he did himself, but he was eons behind in skill.

He conjured a barrier, transparent, yielding, but with a door size gap.

"I've put a time limit on the barrier, Franz," he said, "Just to last the afternoon, but I'll only put a half hour limit on the door."

Dieter nodded, and didn't bother correcting the name. He was beginning to be used to it.

"Why the time limits?" asked Brian.

"No-one else can break my spells," explained Bellamy, "So if something happens to me, they'll go in a while anyway." And he asked, "By the way, did you pick this one?"

Brian nodded proudly.

Bellamy grinned. "Maybe I'll have you curing them by the end of the day."

Brian watched and listened and learned as Bellamy first cured the man, then sweated as he worked hard to keep him calm. But he learned absolutely nothing about Bellamy that Bellamy wasn't allowing.

"Ambulance team?" said Bellamy finally, as the man collapsed, sobbing.

One rescued, and Brian overheard the feeling of triumph. One pulled back from the abyss of madness and death. Bellamy cautioned him. "I'll tell you when you're allowed to start listening again."

But out of the next contingent of a dozen, there were none still alive, and Bellamy started to look bleak.

They were finished early, as so many of the potential patients had been already dead. Outside, it was cold and dark, drizzling rain. Bellamy leaned against the wall, hands in pockets, and frowned broodingly at the cobbled square.

Helmer joined him, and was greeted with reasonable courtesy. Helmer was his son.

"Do you remember the duel we fought when we first met?" Helmer asked, looking at the square. But Bellamy's head was aching, and the mists of confusion were starting to seep in again. And he only apologised and said that he was a bit tired.

Dieter came to his side, "Ready to go back to the hotel?"

Bellamy nodded, and walked with him. Helmer was frowning as he watched him leave. And he thought too, as Dieter did, that maybe they wouldn't have Bellamy around for very long.

Bellamy sat in the bar after dinner, still frowning. He was alone, except that aurors watched.

Graham joined him. "A bad day."

Bellamy nodded, and after a while, said slowly, "Pumpkin-heads are urgent, and I wasn't there."

Graham soothed, "You're not God, you can't be everywhere."

Bellamy spoke very quietly. "I'm not strong enough for this life, I think, and yet, for things like this, I'm the only one."

Graham looked down into his drink. "I thought you were a lot better, that maybe your book helped."

Bellamy looked about restlessly. "I'd go out by myself and get drunk if only I could get rid of the bloody aurors!"

"You're not apparating then?"

Bellamy shook his head. "I've still got enough sense not to do that when I'm unfit - mostly."

Graham said nothing more, and Bellamy, for some reason, drank lemonade.

When he went to bed, he curled on his side, and suddenly there was a memory of a feeling, rather than of a person, of the warmth and comfort of a big body beside him, protecting him and loving him in his very deep loneliness. But there was a silencing shield on the room that night, and an eavesdropping auror never knew that he cried.

***chapter end***