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

Part 3/Chapter 18

In the midst of death, we are in life. Pat repeated those words to Bellamy, as he looked at the invitations they'd received for New Year's Eve Parties.

"I want to go to them all," he said to Pat, who didn't want to go to any, and he added, "Except for the Malfoy one, that's very likely a trap," and he casually tossed the so carefully worded invitation in the fire.

Pat smiled fondly. "You're going to be a dead bore about your new daughter!"

Bellamy smiled. "They always want the great wizard - well, this time they're going to pay for it." And at several different parties that evening, he conjured pictures in the air of the most beautiful baby in the world.

New Year's Eve, at the Malfoy Mansion, Billy Achmed, Tristan Ridgecombe, and Vincent Fabiano waited hopefully with Haslett Malfoy. There had been a time stated, and for a while, they even had their wands raised, waiting in ambush. Arms started to ache, and they were soon lowered, and when it became clear that he was not going to come, they drank a lot of alcohol instead, and told each other what they'd do with all their money as soon as their task was completed.

Haslett Malfoy watched with a slight sneer on his face. Alone among them, he knew that what they were attempting could be very dangerous. But if Malfoy had his way, it would not be himself who ran the risks. He knew some spells the others didn't - such as the Memory Modification spell. He'd been working on the Imperius spell, but his success was inconsistent. A fourth year girl for instance, had only just raised her hand to undo the buttons of her blouse, when she'd broken out of it, and would have reported him if he hadn't managed to modify her memory in time.

Kate's family made a pilgrimage to Beth's island of Noonga Tuku. There was a lot of building activity, but word had not leaked to the newspapers that anything unusual had occurred. Even the priest hadn't said anything. He wasn't sure what to say. Celia was left alone. The islanders were afraid that if they touched her, that avenging spirit might reappear. But Celia thought she might have to leave anyway. It was really very unpleasant to be set apart, friendless among her own people.

Bellamy had warned his family that he'd destroyed Beth's house, and that he'd left a stone. They hadn't expected anything like the massive figure he'd conjured. It looked like a god. One of Kate's sons helped the old lady as she passed between the wooden poles that marked the boundaries. A villager watched, and word was sent to Father O'Flaherty.

The priest met the dozen visitors at the edge of the property. Kate listened to him, and she nodded. Bellamy had punished the village, but now there was hardly a cooking pot left. The fourteen men who had been paralysed were now back with their families, their paralysis almost gone. Fearful looks followed the visitors, and two of the wizards pulled out their wands, just in case.

The priest shuddered. Ten days before, he hadn't believed that magic existed. He had reassessed his ideas, and considered especially the contribution his teaching had made to the death of the woman whose statue he could now look at, but only from a distance. There would be some monetary help given, but the old brown woman with the remains of a great beauty, said sternly that her mother had been murdered. The villagers had to accept their responsibility for that murder.

That night, Father O'Flaherty thought carefully about another thing his religion taught. And maybe that other thing was as baseless as the condemnation of witchcraft. Sister Jose was in agreement. The father's celibacy and the sister's chastity were put aside, and they were both a lot happier for it. They kept up the hospital, but the priest was very careful what he taught from then on.

As always, healers everywhere were busy in early January, breaking spells that fighting wizards had inflicted on each other. It was routine, and only a proportion of these patients would wind up in front of Bellamy. Sometimes it was because a particular spell often led to difficulties, and sometimes it was because the spells of a particular witch or wizard were harder to break than usual. A casual question to Katrina gave the information to Tristan that intermingled spells were often very difficult to break, even for the great wizard. Often the strong magic was needed, which might leave him tired, and vulnerable. But that portion of the information was a little out of date. Bellamy very rarely became tired enough, using his magic, to be vulnerable these days.

They drew straws, although Hortense was still working at her poison, and did not take part, and Malfoy only appeared to take part. Billy Achmed drew the short straw, and Hortense, Haslett, Vincent and Tristan tried to make simultaneous spells. Poor Billy wound up looking dreadful, and quite unable to walk. The school nurse touched her wand to him, muttered a word, and he was normal again. Another failure.

Hortense started working on some Veritaserum, a clear potion which made a person tell the truth, unable to help themselves. There was Peter Barnes, and although it was not widely known, Haslett said that he might be of the same Barnes family that worked for the great wizard. But Veritaserum took a month to prepare.

Bellamy's wife had just had a baby. One of the ideas was that if they could kidnap the baby, he might kill himself in return for the baby's life. But, of course, they still didn't know where he lived, though Tristan's mother went there nearly every day. He'd asked, of course, but Katrina only very calmly said that it was not her secret to tell. And no-one could follow when a person disapparated.

Back home, Pat and Bellamy knew there were always plots to kill Bellamy and collect the reward. But life was good. Esme was gone, although she would call in a couple of times yet, and Susan was thriving on her mother's milk. Pat still didn't want to go out much, as Susan was too small to face the bitter weather. Bellamy was out more, feeling his usual need for exercise, and socialising too. There was the gymnasium, the swimming pool, and he would ride as long as it wasn't too slippery, and he would walk, on his property, and through the streets of London sometimes, although Julia rebuked him for that habit. He was too vulnerable without his bodyguards, she thought. But Bellamy pointed out that he was virtually never attacked in medj areas. He didn't stand out enough. He was anonymous, and his anonymity was his greatest protection.

More memories were coming back to Bellamy from those clouded years. He told Pat sometimes - a memory of cleaning large dog pens filled with St. Bernards, who always wanted to jump all over him. He made pictures on the wall for her. "They're blurry," she said, and he explained that he'd lost his glasses, he thought very early on.

"Everything was blurry in those days. I thought it was only perfectly natural that a crazy man would not be able to see clearly."

"They have docked tails," she said. "What country still docks the tails of dogs?"

Bellamy shrugged. "I wandered all over Europe, and a bit in Australia, too."

"What were you like in those days?" she asked, but he reddened and only said that he'd been pretty pathetic. Pat still wanted him to tell her more, but she didn't press.

Memories came back more when they were in the spa together, and he thought of those six men who'd shared their warmth and their love. But he wasn't ready to talk about those men yet. Who would understand and not condemn?

But he told her about Olga, who'd taken him home one day like a stray dog. "Like I brought Xander home," he said. And he grinned. "I was a bit uncertain whether it was allowed, but she told me we had to have sex every day. But then one afternoon, she told me to pack, took me in the car, and dumped me fifty miles away. I have a feeling her husband might have been due home."

Pat laughed, and was more curious than ever. "But what were you like?" she asked.

Bellamy couldn't really answer. "They called me simple, or Dopey, or Half-wit," he explained, "But so often people were very kind. Mostly, I was looked after, even though I had no claim on anybody whatsoever." A memory came to him, "I looked at myself in the mirror once, when I was fitted for a uniform," he offered, and showed her himself in a white uniform, wearing a wide smile, but with a different quality in the smile. It looked somehow that of a child.

Pat frowned at the picture, and it, too, was blurry. "You still didn't have glasses then," she said.

Bellamy shook his head. "I couldn't have."

"You used to tell people you were a crazy man?"

"I don't think so, not usually," Bellamy said, uncertainly. "I was mostly sensible enough to get a job when I needed, simple labouring jobs, of course." But he told her about his odd rules for himself, that a crazy man couldn't apparate or work magic. That a crazy man had to obey orders, and was not allowed to fight, or to go with women.

"But you told me about Olga," she said.

Bellamy frowned. "There were other women too, sometimes, but then years would go by without. I don't know when I decided I wasn't allowed to go with women, but I don't think it was from the start." They were in the spa, and his fingers went thoughtfully to the scars from a flogging.

At Hogwarts, a house-elf scowled at the bubbling cauldron in Tristan's room. House-elves were dedicated to being good servants, and were so seldom seen that they tended to be forgotten. The students just accepted that things were kept clean, and rubbish tidied away. But like all servants, house-elves tended to hear things. It was a potion that Vesner, the house-elf, saw, and Vesner knew that potions must never be interfered with. But a book of poisons was close, and it was known among the house-elves that the group of seventh year Slytherins were making their plans to try and kill the great wizard.

Vesner consulted, and a tiny sprinkling of an extra ingredient was added one day. It would not change the function of the potion in the slightest degree, but it now emitted a vile spell. Hortense couldn't work it out, but it was time to add the last ingredients, and then it had to stand just one week more, and would be ready. Maybe it was just a stage, and she crossed her fingers and added the last ingredients. It looked exactly the way it should look.

But three days later, they had to give up as there were too many complaints, and they risked discovery. The potion was vanished. The veritaserum still gently bubbled, but a search for the source of the nasty smell was avoided.

Bellamy resumed working Thursdays in London, spell-breaking. He took Xander with him, now, and people became accustomed to him appearing with his dog in his arms. Xander was well behaved, and no trouble. Bellamy was an utter bore about the beauty of his daughter, and after a while, the aurors took care to avoid any mention of babies. But otherwise he was as casual and efficient with his cures as ever.

There was a patient one day who had intermingled spells and required the strong magic. There was no trap, and the woman was cured quite easily, though it was discovered that the auror, Otis, whom Pat once said looked a little like Frankenstein's monster, could not tolerate the strong magic, although dainty Heather was quite unperturbed.

It was not long before he was asked to start doing Fridays, as well. It was not that there were so many in England, but every week, there would be clients from overseas. Even in mid-February, he was still doing casualties of New Year's Eve celebrations.

Peter Barnes was in sixth year - a serious and responsible youth, and a Hufflepuff prefect. The Veritaserum was finished, but it proved a very difficult thing to get it into Peter's food or drink. Peter didn't mix with the Slytherins much, and the group was a year ahead as well.

Hortense had a go, as it was thought he didn't have a girlfriend. But either he had a girlfriend after all, or just didn't fancy Hortense, though she was an attractive young woman. Peter had learned prudence from his home, and an anonymous gift of chocolates was passed on to the house mistress, who had it checked. "Veritaserum," Professor Parker said. "You'll have to be careful." It was known among a few of the staff that Peter's home was the home of the great wizard, and Professor Parker was yet another of Bellamy's descendants.

A few days later, a more direct method was attempted. Peter was set upon by Tristan, Billy, and Vincent, while Hortense attempted to pour the potion down his throat. But Peter fought furiously, and had his wand out, just missing getting Billy. The battle was interrupted by Hugo Smith, the son of Therese, who came in at the sounds of the scuffle. All but Peter, fled. Haslett, from his sheltered position, sent the Memory Modification spell, just as Hugo started questioning Peter. But Peter could no longer remember the incident, and it was not easy to break a Memory Modification spell without risk to the victim.

"Tell me about the Costa Rivera," said Pat to her husband one evening, They were in the spa, naked, cuddling together. Little Susan was asleep in a cradle close by.

Bellamy told her about Chivas, how he'd been almost tearing his hair out one night because he'd refused to go to bed, saying it was not his cabin. "And yet, he put up with me." He grinned at her. "I told him about Sheba, and he didn't threaten to turn me into a toad." He told her about Esta, too. That he used to call her Catherine. "She reminded me of Esme's grandmother, Catherine Rutherford, who was the Ministry Healer for something like forty years. I became very fond of Catherine."

"How did you come to get a job on a cruise ship?" asked Pat. "Surely, if you were as you said you were, you would not have been given a job."

Bellamy frowned uncertainly, "There may have been a ship before that one.." He shook his head. "I don't remember, but that's not uncommon. I just drifted, and tended to find myself in places." He grinned. "I learned to drift away from policemen pretty quick. They always seemed to want to take me places I didn't want to go."

Pat wanted to know about the Costa Rivera. She knew there was a later ship, but he could tell her about that one easily, and when he showed her memories from the Belle Chartreusie, they were clear edged. He'd been wearing glasses then. Pat was convinced that it was on the Costa Rivera that Bellamy had started to find himself again. She wished he'd tell her. It would be an act of trust. She hadn't forgotten the story of the retarded man swimming ashore, and being found again by his lover.

**x**

Haslett Malfoy had more definite information now. His mother was all in favour of Haslett restoring the family fortune by winning himself a fifth share of the enormous reward. Malfoy was practising. He was getting a lot better at the Imperius Curse, but now only had students doing innocuous things, and he'd take the curse off straight afterward, followed by the Memory Modification spell again, which he was very good at now.

But when he aimed at Peter's back, Peter whipped around and sent the spell straight back at him before it could connect. Malfoy was dizzy, but Peter didn't know what the spell was that he'd returned, and didn't follow through with any instructions. Haslett stumbled off. Peter Barnes was not known as an exceptional student, and Haslett was. But Peter had still defeated Malfoy. His hours of defence practice had not been wasted. But now Peter knew that Haslett Malfoy had tried to do something.

This was the second time that Peter Barnes had been targeted. Word spread. Hugo Smith, the big, redheaded son of Therese Abercrombie, and Kupec Thomas, the son of Alexander, started keeping a watch over him as much as possible. They were in the same year, which helped a lot, though Hugo and Kupec were in Gryffindor. They knew that Peter lived at the home of the great wizard. Professor Parker warned a few of the Hufflepuff students that Peter was being targeted, with the result that there was no opportunity for months to try the next plan for Peter. Simple force. Bend his elbow back - that sort of thing. Peter was learning to watch for potential enemies, and to be very cautious. He practised his speed, too, he and his friends, practising duelling by hurling relatively harmless spells at each other.

Billy Achmed, Hortense Smythe, Haslett Malfoy, Tristan Ridgecombe, and Vincent Fabiano were beginning to think they might have to work for a living after all.

**x**

Bellamy was finding himself with a desire to show his wife those men who had been so important to him. But how could she understand? Instead, he showed her Guido, first as a blurred figure, and also, he was clear.

"You found your glasses?" Pat asked.

Bellamy grinned. "I wanted to get off the ship, and nearly made it, but then poor Lopez and Ramirez, were ordered to look after me. It came up that I couldn't read something, and one of them asked why. I told him that I'd lost my glasses, so Esta and Guido organised me to an optometrist."

Instead of asking why he'd wanted to get off the ship, the question that had immediately come to mind, Pat asked him to tell her about the Spaniards, and about Guido. She knew he was coming closer. But she also knew that he felt a discomfort and an embarrassment still about many things that had occurred when he'd wandered.

***chapter end***