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

Part 3/Chapter 9

On Wednesday, March twenty-fifth, the ship arrived at Southampton, England. Bellamy glanced around at luggage, sending it instantly home. But Pat was very nervous when he wrapped an arm around her, preparing to apparate. But he told her tenderly, "It's very easy. First I put an arm around your shoulders, and then I pull you toward me, and do this..."

Pat was left feeling a little giddy after the passionate kiss, but looked around, and said, "We're still in the cabin."

Bellamy said, "They'll be still queuing at the gangplanks - we've got time... "

The apparation zone was being watched, and when they arrived, a half hour later, both Archie and his teenage son Peter came to greet them, though Ursula and the others were inside, as it was a cold and rather blustery day. There was a dog at the heels of Archie, and when Bellamy looked around, he could see horses again, three mares heavily in foal, and three other horses, including Jester. The faint air of neglect that he'd seen last time was gone, and when Peter pointed his wand into the air, it emitted a few low sparks, and a bell rang. At the signal, more people emerged from the big home Pat could see in the distance, and from the direction of some small houses, but those ones looked old, and only waved.

Pat was introduced by Bellamy with an obvious pride - to Archie and Peter, who wore wizard capes, whipping around in the wind. Also to Kitty, Alison and Ursula. Pat was greeted with respect. She was the beloved of the boss, and must be special. Only seven-year-old Margaret stood aside, looking sulky. Margaret was a law unto herself, and didn't treat anyone with a great deal of respect.

Bellamy wrapped an instantly conjured, warm cape around Pat, and suggested they go and see the old ones before entering the house. Pat was shivering, but smiled at him. She hadn't missed the respect with which he'd always spoken about Caradoc. And when she was introduced to Caradoc, she looked into eyes that were as wise and as patient as she thought a saint might look. It gave her the shivers a little, and she felt more comfortable initially with Sybil, who used a stick, and with Clare, who looked vague and had a smear of paint on her face.

It was too early in the season for the gardens to look at their best, but they were no longer, in the slightest bit, neglected, and when Bellamy looked at the flock of sheep, he thought they were as heavily in lamb as the mares were in foal. There was a feeling of promise in the air, and when a light rain started to fall, a rainbow showed briefly.

Pat was staring at what was to be her home now. It was a large and quite beautiful home, and when they went inside, she was surrounded by beautiful things. Her comment was answered, "That was Julie. She was always good at shopping." And Bellamy looked around. "Redecorate whatever you want, and we'll need an addition to the library, for your books."

Kitty was still smiling a welcome all over her face. "I didn't know which bedroom you'd want, so I've got the large downstairs one made up, but also the largest upstairs one, so you can choose."

Pat felt the impact of a different woman's touch when she looked at the downstairs room, and chose the one upstairs.

"The one downstairs doesn't have to be a bedroom, of course," Bellamy told her. "It was only made that way when I was sick, and then it was too much trouble to move."

He left Pat unpacking, and wandered his home, re-acquainting himself with the place he'd lived so long. When he found the swimming pool ready to use, he stripped off his outer clothes, and dived in, delighted. Peter grinned at his father. "Lucky you turned on the heating - I didn't see him stop to check!"

There was a small welcome home party that night, Kitty helped in her catering by both Archie and Ursula, who'd moved back in to one of the small houses. Bridon and Diane came, as did Paul, and his wife, Helena. Pat was tired. It was all too new. But not one of those she met had sneered at her - not because she was Medj, (or a 'muggle,' as Helena had called it) and not because she was too tall, plain, and awkward looking in her body. She'd spoken to Peter, home from Hogwarts for the Easter holidays, but didn't think much of Margaret, who didn't seem to have made any effort at all to be polite.

She slipped away early, but Bellamy noticed, and said his goodnights too, although insisting the party should go on without them. But Pat was most important, and when he found her upstairs, just sitting on the bed, looking into the distance, he sat beside her, rather anxiously.

Pat said feebly, "It's nice."

Bellamy nodded, still anxious. "You can have whatever you want. If it's too cold or something, we can live somewhere else."

Pat gently touched a hand to his cheek. "I don't want to live anywhere else."

The following day, she explored an overgrown, walled garden, and came across a black and white mother cat, suckling four tabby kittens. The cat looked up at her, blinking with an air of total contentment. Patricia made up her mind. She would put her faith in the future - tonight she would talk about a child, though it would take a few months for the contraception she used to wear off.

That night, when they made love, instead of working a spell that vanished semen the instant after his climax, Bellamy only kissed his wife again with an utmost tenderness and joy. He was filled with delight that, in time, there would be a child. Afterwards, he caressed the naked body that lay relaxed beside him in the warm room, outlining the breasts with a tender hand, and touching over flanks and stomach. It was a body that had more grace unclothed than it ever did clothed. Bellamy worked no magic, but maybe Patricia worked some magic. The child was conceived that night.

The day after, Bellamy took Pat to Claudette's, and she had a glorious time choosing materials and styles for more robes. She might be Medj, but she fully intended to adopt the clothing of a witch, especially for formal occasions. Saturday night was the annual Ministry Ball, and she thought she would go. Bellamy wanted to, as he said it was the easiest way to announce his return, and organise a resumption of his spell-breaking. He added, "They always have speeches, but we can go before they start that, or sooner, of course, if you want."

There was some hasty rearranging when Bellamy and his new wife arrived at the Ministry Ball. More aurors were called, and the organisers put back the formalities for an hour. They knew the start of the formalities was the signal for the disappearance of the great wizard, whose hatred of speeches was very well known.

Pat was taken aback when she was introduced to three large, tough-looking men, Alexander, Ryde, and Bruce. Alexander was very black, while Ryde had a livid scar across his face. Their capes were black, with a narrow scarlet border, and each with a prominent badge. "Aurors, on duty," Bellamy explained. She noticed that at least two of those aurors were never far from Bellamy and herself. Bellamy knew there were several others there, not in uniform, almost certainly some of whom would be on duty.

While Pat was near Bellamy, she met no disrespect. She stayed near him, not knowing anyone, and feeling uncomfortable. There were spiteful murmurings from some, and the rumour that she was Medj was already sweeping the gathering. Bellamy was feeling her unease, and only quickly organised to start spell-breaking in London the following Wednesday, and said a brief word of congratulation to the new head of the Auror Department, Julia Everett, and to the new Minister for Magic, one of his own descendants, Dianne Abercrombie. He thought he'd take Pat home. He did not want her subject to any spite, whether or not she was accustomed to it.

Some new arrivals were creating a stir, and Bellamy looked toward the small disturbance. Alexander was tall enough that he could see over heads, and he grinned down at Bellamy. "Were you expecting Kate?" Pat smiled. Someone she knew at last, and she, too, could now see them.

Kate's presence was explained as soon as they greeted her. She had left Beth's island home, saying to Bellamy, slightly worried, that she really thought that her mother should also leave, that there was an atmosphere... Bellamy frowned. But Beth always knew what people were thinking. Surely she'd have the sense to leave if she needed to. Kate was going to live with her son, John Innes, and his wife, Sarah. There had been competition. Her other son also wanted her, and so did three grown-up grandchildren. Even now, she had two devoted slaves with her, apparently unwilling to leave the sunshine of her presence. Kate took Pat under her wing, and Bellamy was sent off to socialise.

There was a catty comment. He'd been enjoying Spectra's wit, but when Spectra dared make a joke at his wife's expense, he whirled on her, eyes narrowed, and forehead scar suddenly blazing.

"So what are you going to do to me," she asked brazenly. "You know you've already got a spell on me, so that I can't attack you or anyone else! It wouldn't be fair attacking me again, would it?"

Bellamy's eyes were still narrowed. "So who cares about fair? Anyone insulting my wife, pays!"

Disbelieving, Spectra put a hand to her face. Pimples! She'd never had pimples in her life! There were titters around her. Spectra may have been attractive to men, but she was not liked by women. She spat a swear word, but he only looked amused, and said, "Manners, dear girl, manners!" Spectra put her chin in the air, glared at him, stalked away, and the moment she left the anti-apparation area, she vanished. She couldn't appear in public with pimples!

Spectra would be better in the morning, but it had been a very public punishment. Word spread. Patricia Howard, wife of the great wizard, would not be insulted again, at least not while her husband was around.

**x**

May had always been Bellamy's favourite month at his home. The sun often shone, and this year, lambs played King of the Castle on a grassy mound that Bellamy had made especially for the purpose. The sheep were on agistment, Archie explaining that they kept the grass down, and besides, it was a waste for good pasture not to be used. Bellamy made friends with the owner of the sheep, who checked on them frequently. He made friends with the sheep, too.

There were a dozen mares now, nine of them with new foals, three due any day. A new employee, Victor Armitage, looked after the horses. He was of average height, thickset, and had a black, bushy beard. Paul now ran the 'Line of Sheba' stud, in conjunction with their Andalusians. There were more of Bellamy's mares at his place next door, as well as a stallion. There was a profit sharing arrangement, which Bellamy thought should really pay a lot more to those who had worked to build up the stud, rather than to himself who hadn't even known about it. But when he objected, Archie, Alison and even Paul, told him firmly that he knew nothing of such matters.

He'd not been able to persuade Pat to learn to ride, though she'd learned not to worry when he did. Jester bucked and twisted and reared, always to the great delight of Bellamy. She remembered what Beth had told her - that no-one had such joy in their play as Bellamy.

Inside the house, a large room adjacent to the library became part of it, lined with shelves, furnished with comfortable chairs and tables, and stocked with Pat's thousands of books. She was like Bellamy, cherishing books for their own sakes, and had spent several contented days arranging them exactly to her liking.

She was astonished when she found boxes and boxes of her brother's books, and Bellamy looked guilty. "They're selling by themselves, now - I just gave it a bit of a nudge at the start." And then, anxiously, "You won't tell him, will you?"

She smiled at him in gratitude, "I won't tell him."

That evening, as they ate dinner, Pat led the conversation to healers as opposed to doctors.

"Well, healers use magic, of course, but really, the biggest difference is in philosophy. While medj healing is often very invasive, frankly degrading even, in wizardry, there is nothing like that, or nothing I've met, anyway. The dignity of the body is much more greatly respected. A healer would know more, of course."

"Is it always better?" Pat asked.

"Not always. For example, Wizardkind is actually a bit more prone to cancer than Medjkind, but the treatment is only pain relief, and it's excellent for that, and a merciful death when it's time."

Pat said thoughtfully, "That might be better, even if life's shorter."

Bellamy agreed, and Pat went on, "Are wizards more prone to other types of illnesses?"

Bellamy nodded, "Sudden heart attacks are not uncommon, usually fatal. On the other hand, wizards are very resistant to all varieties of infection, so, for instance, there's no need for antibiotics, or REF injections."

Pat was thoughtful. "If there's no physical intervention, what would happen if a person is unconscious for weeks or months."

Bellamy said in a matter-of-fact tone, "They would starve to death. There's a spell to get pure water into an unconscious person, but it works poorly, and doesn't work at all for even liquid food, or potions."

"But that's awful!"

"It's not as bad as it sounds, as usually even an apparently unconscious or almost unconscious person can be persuaded to take some food when the body needs it." Pat was frowning at him thoughtfully. Bellamy said, "I've been pretty sick myself at various times, but I've survived."

"Operations?"

Bellamy shook his head, "Never."

The conversation strayed to Bellamy's spell-breaking then, as he was to start doing overseas trips the following week. But over coffee, Pat brought the conversation back to healing. "What about pregnancy and childbirth?"

Bellamy looked at Pat with delighted hope on his face. But Pat said firmly, "Just answer the question." Bellamy was trying not to smile. But he shook his head, and tried to answer the question as best he knew.

"Well, I've heard Ginny saying how totally useless they are for morning sickness, but from what I've heard, they're excellent for childbirth. I've been told that medj childbirth can be agony, but with a competent witch healer, it never is." And he said, not concealing his delighted hope, "A specialised healer would come here when it's close to time, and stay until after the baby's born." And he couldn't restrain himself. "Are you...?"

Pat said firmly, "It's too early to be sure, and the contraception wasn't even supposed to have worn off yet. But maybe..."

***chapter end***