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

Part 3/Chapter 19

In early March, Bellamy resumed spell-breaking trips. Dieter was in charge again, and Scott, Stan, Ryde, and another young one, Jeremy. Jeremy was tall, lean and walked like a tiger about to pounce. "It's a conspiracy to make me feel small!" Bellamy complained. But there was time to go swimming before work commenced, and seeing him playing with Scott and Jeremy in the heated swimming pool, Dieter smiled to himself. As Fred and Patrick had said, he enjoyed the young ones.

Dieter was nearly fifty, and had failed the latest fitness tests, but Julia had re-categorised the job as 'desk' in order to keep Bellamy happy with someone he liked and trusted. She'd only recently heard the story of 'Nathan-who-carries-a-knife,' and was aware of the possibility of treachery from an auror. One of those behind the attack in France had been a senior French auror. The reward was just too large. There were bound to be many tempted.

Twice that week, death spells came hurtling at Bellamy, and once, there was an attack at night. Bellamy ducked one of the spells, and batted the other straight back to the one who'd sent it, killing him. He still had his lightning reactions. He wasn't told about the night attack, and didn't notice that Scott and Stan were replaced by Homer and Heather. The attackers' information was faulty, as the attack was made after he'd already gone home.

He seldom saw those on night duty. But Scott wound up with a Baldo Auror's award, like Cindy, although Stan already had the small red badge that denoted injured on duty, and only had a few days off.

Once home, with the improving weather, he'd call in to say hello to Pat, play with the baby for a little, and then go for a gallop on Jester, often accompanied by Archie or Victor, occasionally both.

Every evening, after dinner, Bellamy and Pat would enjoy their spa. "The best birthday present I've ever had," said Bellamy, laying back his head in uttermost contentment. He still talked about his memories of those clouded years, as Pat was so very interested. There was a white mare, and he showed her a picture of a furious Jorge Covas, the image blurry as usual, but almost jumping up and down in rage. He grinned. "I told him he had to have an Old Horses' Paddock, and he didn't think the half-wit should be telling him anything. But then he gave me my way anyway, and I was with him a while, I think."

Pat asked, "Why did you leave him?" But Bellamy didn't remember.

Another evening, he showed her a blurred picture of children playing under what appeared to be an irrigation sprinkler, but couldn't remember the context at all. And there was a heavy Clydesdale pulling a plough. It looked a poor and backward area, but all he could remember was that the horse was called Poiter. And there was a woman with glasses, at a desk. She seemed to be pulling out her hair in frustration. "She was saying that yesterday, I said my name was something different! She didn't like it when I changed my name day to day." And he grinned, "Funny that!"

Pat rather hesitantly asked Katrina one day what he'd been like. But Katrina only said that he was very quiet, and always seemed sad and lonely. Archie and Ursula said the same, but also that he would wait to be told what to do. "Sometimes, he was good, though," Archie said, defending his boss. "He was supposed to be confused when he fought Spectra McFiddan, and yet beat her with ridiculous ease."

Ursula added, "Sidney, too, when he got Sidney off the charge."

Pat asked Bellamy about that, and he reddened as he said that he remembered nothing of that incident. "I've never admitted that I can't remember though, so don't tell him."

Pat asked Sidney instead what had happened, and Sidney told her, but he too, reddened. He didn't like to think that he'd killed someone. "You used magic without a wand?" Pat said, thoughtfully.

Sidney nodded, but added, "I tried and tried, but I could never do it again."

From Caradoc, Pat had a good idea of the reasons that Bellamy had become so lost, and Bellamy herself had told her once - that it was because everybody he knew, died, and he didn't want to be alone. She remembered it well.

March twenty-fifth, and Bellamy reminded her that it was the anniversary of the day she'd arrived here. He said that they'd have to make love in honour of the occasion, and she laughed at him. "We make love every night!"

He pulled her tight. "That's what beds are for!"

She was still teasing, "And spa-rooms, and haysheds, and any reasonably private bit of grass!"

"It'll soon be warm enough for that, too," he assured her.

**x**

At Hogwarts, Hortense Smythe started again to make poisons, another attempt at the one she'd been preparing before, and another that was difficult, took two full moon cycles to prepare, but was supposed to be tasteless, odourless, and to cause death without fail, but discreetly, not for a few weeks after the victim took the poison. She had to miss the Easter holidays, but she thought it worth the sacrifice.

Billy, Vincent and Tristan found a sudden opportunity when Peter was caught on his own. Without hesitation, they dived on him. When Hugo and Kupec arrived, they had him squashed on the floor, with his arm twisted painfully behind him. Hugo restrained Kupec a second before they intervened, and they heard the repeated question, "Where do you live?"

Peter swore at them, promising revenge. But his arm was pulled a notch harder, and the question was repeated. Hugo and Kupec nodded at each other, and the three Slytherins were given a very severe beating, Peter very happy to help as soon as he was freed.

The school nurse treated their bruises and broken ribs, and tried to straighten Tristan's broken nose. All but Tristan were allowed out of hospital the following day. But Tristan was Hugo's cousin, and Hugo thought it the vilest act of treachery. He was one of Grandfather Harry's own family, like himself! Tristan was in hospital for a few days longer. None of the fighters on either side told any teacher what was going on.

But Tristan announced that he was not doing it any more, and the potions had to be finished somewhere else than in his room. Malfoy made threats. Tristan stopped protesting. The poisons continued to brew, and there was still a stock of veritaserum if opportunity permitted.

**x**

Easter, and Bellamy went for a ride with Peter. It was a wild and windy day, entirely suitable, they thought, for a race.

"They're trying to get me to tell you where you live," said Peter, when they arrived at a cliff-top which overlooked a rough sea.

Bellamy paid attention, and suddenly felt something. He was good at feeling spells. "You've got a spell on you," he said, "Memory Modification."

Peter nodded. "Madam Preston, she's the school nurse, says that it's too risky to take off."

"I can take it off, and not hurt you," said Bellamy quietly, "If you're willing."

Peter looked at him dubiously. "Madam Preston says that removing a Memory Modification can leave a person never quite the same."

"I break spells, remember," said Bellamy. "I can feel spells, and I can do what other people cannot. It's entirely up to you, but I think you should talk to your parents. It might be something very significant."

Peter said thoughtfully, "I'm pretty sure it was just a fight, but I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"See what your mum and dad say," said Bellamy.

Xander met them halfway home, thrilled to have found the boss. "Silly dog," said Bellamy. "We went too far and fast for you. That's why you were supposed to stay home."

That evening in the spa, Pat again asked Bellamy about the Costa Rivera. He showed her the cabin, with eight bunks. "I had six room-mates, they touched a lot," he said. "It's the way all Italians are, but they seemed to touch more than most." He smiled. "I thought they made the cabin warm, and when they were away, it was cold, and I was miserable." And he told her again about Chivas being driven half demented when he insisted it was not his cabin.

But he shied off again, and when he showed her an image, it was of the recreation room, and Lopez teaching him table-tennis.

"It's sharp," Pat commented.

"I must have had my glasses, then, but I don't think I had them long when I left."

Pat was quiet a while. "Did you really just jump over and swim ashore?"

Bellamy shrugged, uncomfortable, "Guido said I had to be looked after, and he refused to let me go. Or if I insisted, he'd hand me over to be committed." He didn't look at her. "I'm a good swimmer; it wasn't so hard."

Pat said, "I'd like to have seen their faces when you gave them a lecture on dragon keeping?"

Bellamy laughed, losing his discomfort. "They were very patient. I told them about merpeople, too."

The following day, Bellamy undid the Memory Modification for Peter. As Peter had said, it was just a fight, although he now knew Hortense Smythe had been involved, and had Veritaserum. Bellamy questioned him closely about the other attacks on him. He was especially interested in the spell that was returned to Malfoy, but hadn't seemed to have much effect. There had been no verbal incantation. One thing was clear. Someone, and he suspected the Malfoy boy, was becoming very good at Memory Modification.

After the short Easter break, Bellamy made an appointment with Professor Twitchett, the headmaster. When the Hogwarts students went to dinner that day, there was a lot of excitement. The great wizard was there. Could he possibly be going to come back to teach again? His presence was not explained for a while, and attention turned back to the meal. The house-elves knew he was there, and it was an especially good meal that evening. Bellamy thought it was just a coincidence when his favourite dessert appeared on the table.

Meantime, Bellamy quietly looked over the four long house tables in front of him. He picked out the boy whom he thought was probably the son of Therese, and he was sitting next to Kupec, whom he'd met at Alexander's funeral. He noticed Peter, but neither of them made any sign of recognition. It wasn't supposed to be known that Peter lived at the hidden home of the great wizard. Without being obvious, he scanned the Slytherin table, but didn't pick out Tristan. There was the Malfoy boy, though. He was sure of it. As he'd said to Peter, it was almost as much a family tradition in the Malfoy family to try and kill him, as it was in the Barnes family, to look after him.

The students finished their meal. Normally, they might have just quietly left, as they were allowed, but no-one left. The room gradually quieted instead, and students watched the great wizard, though he only seemed to be eating a dessert, and talking to Professor Twitchett on one side of him, and Professor Ardmon on the other side.

At length, Professor Twitchett looked questioningly at Bellamy who nodded, and rose.

"My name's Henry Bellamy," he said, although there was not a soul there by then, who didn't know who he was. "It appears that someone at this school has been using the Memory Modification spell, which is, of course, subject to very strict guidelines imposed by the Ministry. If it has been used wrongly, it's an illegal act. The person who may have been subject to it may have a blank in their memory, may have found themselves a little confused, or may remember doing something they would not normally have done. As some of you probably know, my job is feeling, understanding, and breaking spells. Without looking at a person's mind, I can feel if that person has a spell on him, even the subtle Memory Modification, and I can take it off, without, of course, doing any harm to the student."

He paused to let them take it in. There was a rustle of voices, and people were looking at each other, some with suspicion. "Your headmaster has kindly allowed me to use the big office near his own, and any students who would like me to check if they have a Memory Modification spell on them should come to me there. I'll be there until quite late."

Madam Preston, the school nurse, waited with Bellamy in the large outer office of a two room apartment. "I lived here for years," Bellamy told Griselda. "These were my rooms." He looked out the small high window of the bedroom. "Very secure. I needed protection in those days, too."

There was a knock on the door. Professor Parker, "Three students would like to see you," she said.

Bellamy smiled, "Thanks, Jill."

Three girls in their early teens came in. Madam Preston tensed. Memory Modification was often used after rape. But Bellamy only smiled reassuringly at the worried girls, and asked two to wait outside for their friend. "Your name?" he asked the remaining girl. "Lillian Davenport."

"Are you a relative of mine?" Bellamy asked.

The girl shook her head, and suddenly grinned. "We're about the only lot of Davenports left that aren't, though."

Bellamy laughed, and said, "It's rather a relief. Everywhere I look these days, it seems to be my own relatives!"

Lillian was nervous when Bellamy asked if he could remove the spell from her. She turned questioning eyes to the nurse who nodded reassuringly. Five minutes later, they knew that Haslett Malfoy was the one responsible for the Memory Modification, but also that he was attempting to use an Unforgivable Curse, the Imperius Curse. Lillian was rather pleased with herself on the whole, as Bellamy explained that very few were able to throw off an Imperius Curse.

"You did very well, indeed," he told her. But an Unforgivable Curse was a lot more serious than Memory Modification, and Professor Twitchett was informed, as well as the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic.

There were a dozen students lined up now, most girls, and most in the charge of Professor Crio, the Slytherin housemistress. There was a buzz of comment, and awe bordering on fear, when four uniformed aurors made their appearance. They were big, grim-faced men.

Bellamy came out to meet them, and the waiting students watched in silent trepidation as he greeted two by name, and two more were introduced to him. Bellamy smiled at the waiting students. "There are also aurors who are small and blonde - you'd think they could have sent someone who looked a bit more approachable."

Bruce said, "Sorry, we were just the ones on duty."

"I thought you had a transfer."

But Bruce said, pleased with himself, "I managed a desk job. I use my brains these days, not brawn." Bellamy had achieved his object, and the students looked less frightened. The big men were only human, after all.

Lillian still waited in the office. She was questioned again, and Professor Crio was asked to fetch Haslett Malfoy. Homer went with her. Use of the Unforgivable Curses carried heavy penalties, and Malfoy was seventeen, an adult in the wizarding world. But Malfoy had cleaned up all evidence of wrongdoing, including the poisons in Tristan's bedroom, and was, at that moment, disapparating from just outside the grounds. He would be out of the country by morning.

Meantime, Bellamy spoke briefly to each of the students, dismissing several. Four more turned into the corridor that led to Bellamy's office. A teacher started conjuring chairs for the waiting students. Malfoy had needed a lot of practice before he was confident with the Imperius Curse.

In the next couple of hours, Bellamy lifted Memory Modification Spells from sixteen students, several of whom could describe the blissful feeling of being under an Imperius Curse. Word was spreading, and more students and even teachers combed their own memories for mysterious blanks, and times when they were unexpectedly confused or dizzy.

Six Ravenclaw students accompanied by the House Master arrived. Bellamy was introduced to Professor Partridge, who hadn't been at dinner. But Professor Partridge was adamant that he couldn't possibly have been touched. Bellamy just said, "Sorry."

Partridge stalked up and down the room for a while, before grudgingly yielding, and saying he'd better do it. And then he was even more angry. "That swine! Just because I was handing out a Detention to his mate, Tristan!"

None of those six Ravenclaw students were touched, though.

The supply of students finally dwindled and ceased. Bruce and another auror had done the questioning, and five students were expelled, including the absent Malfoy. Bellamy was weary, and it was late, but agreed to return Saturday, as it was decided that every single student and member of staff needed to be checked, whether they thought they might have been affected, or not. It was only another plot to kill him. School students never really had much chance against the great wizard. And Bellamy had protectors he never even knew of. He'd never met Vesner, the house-elf, for instance, and her intervention hadn't become known.

Saturday, Xander quietly at his side, Bellamy checked hundreds of students and dozens of staff, usually just a quick introduction, a smile and a nod, and onto the next one. It seemed the doorman and two of the security guards were affected. The firm instruction that was left with them was to allow totally free movement to the five Slytherin seventh year students.

Only three more students had been affected, and the actions they'd carried out while under the spell were harmless. It seemed they were just practice subjects.

Afterwards, Bellamy strolled the grounds that had been once so familiar, Xander, as always, close to his heels. Hugo and Kupec watched from a distance, but Bellamy saw, and hailed them. Peter kept away, and a couple who had wondered, guessed that, after all, it could not be his family who looked after Bellamy.

Xander looked around alertly, as if he, too, would like to leap into action to protect the boss. Hugo and Kupec both wanted to be aurors like Hugo's mother, and Kupec's father, but they said there was no hope. The Ministry had announced that there would be no intake of trainee aurors, probably for years.

"Any ideas then?" asked Bellamy.

Kupec said hesitantly that he might like to work at the Ministry, maybe work his way up to a position of power. And he grinned. "I want to be in a position to give orders."

"Any chance you might come back teaching?" asked Hugo.

Bellamy shook his head, regretfully. "Probably not, not unless wizardry becomes a lot more civilised."

He looked around the grounds. Students were everywhere, even though it was not a warm day. "There are a lot more students than when I was here last," he commented.

"We have a score or more medj-born every year these days," said Hugo. "Mum says these things just go in cycles."

Bellamy frowned. It wasn't widely acknowledged, but most medj-born wizards and witches were sired as a result of rape of a medj woman, by a wizard, followed by Memory Modification. Not all of them, but most.

***chapter end***