127. The Inner Patronus
The problem persisted.
Draco came to think the spreadsheets themselves might be to blame because the library software never gave him this sort of trouble. He often sent out e-mails to default patrons or contacted other libraries. He regularly worked, albeit slowly, with the Library Management System. He had even downloaded exam papers from the Internet once and printed them out, which he considered no mean feat. In the classroom, however, he failed as spectacularly as he had done three years ago.
His performance didn't improve with time. On the contrary, after four weeks of recurring failure Draco was convinced that the harder he tried the worse it got.
...
Late one morning, after a particularly unsuccessful training session, he returned briefly to Hind Green Close to get changed for work. Wrapped up in his gloomy thoughts, he almost collided with Mike's door. It stood wide open and allowed a view of a room crammed full of computerish stuff. Black or silver-coloured devices of unknowable purpose sat on every flat surface save the bed. The bed was littered with books and notes.
By and large, Draco saw little of his flatmates. They were still asleep when he left the house, and when he came home after late shifts or evening classes, they were holed up in their rooms, doing in perfect silence whatever it was they did in there. They frequented the library – Adam more often than Mike – but that did not lead to more than some polite small talk once in a while.
On impulse, Draco knocked on Mike's door.
The boy, who knelt next to the desk, stopped fiddling with a cable tangle and looked up.
"Hi, Drake!" he greeted. "What's up?"
"Good morning, Mike. I hope I'm not interrupting?"
"Nah, it's fine," Mike said. He got to his feet, dropping the cables in the process. "I'm about to test my new graphic card. Want to have a look?"
"Thank you, but no. Please don't consider me impolite. Computers just aren't my cup of tea. In fact, that's why I knocked. You seem to be an expert, and I would like to ask a question."
"No problem," Mike said. "Fire away!"
"What causes a computer to go into a state of total disobedience?" Draco asked. "All of a sudden, it refuses to work. No matter what command I try to key in, or where I click with the mouse, the machine won't react."
"Sounds like a freeze," Mike said. "Just restart it. That should help."
"Well, yes, I know. But what causes such a freeze?"
"Anything." Mike shrugged. "It's hard to say without an example."
"Most times, the display becomes oddly distorted and flickers just before the freeze occurs."
"Sounds strange. External electromagnetic fields can have weird effects on screens sometimes."
Draco, recalling his science studies, asked, "Electromagnetic fields? Are you referring to the invisible aura a coil sprouts when an alternating electric current is running through it?"
"Yeah, something along those lines. The most likely culprit is a mobile. If it sends on a frequency that some part of the hardware is somehow prone to pick up, and the energy level is high enough, the rendering can be disrupted," Mike said. "To my knowledge, it affects only the screen, not the CPU. But who knows? Perhaps we should run a few tests so see whether your mobile is sticking out its foot to trip up unsuspecting computers?"
The explanation was largely lost on Draco.
"I don't own a mobile," he said.
"It doesn't have to be yours. Could be anyone's. It just needs to be near enough."
With the last two words, near enough, realisation finally dawned on Draco.
"It's a fairly rare effect," Mike continued with a broad grin, "but it's a neat excuse to turn them mobiles off more often. They can be a bloody nuisance with their never-ending ringing."
"There's that, too," Draco said, somewhat absently. "Thank you for your help, Mike."
"Don't mention it. I did nothing."
"Well, I think you did. I'm no longer convinced it's my gargantuan incompetence that causes computers to freeze. So, thanks." Draco inclined his head. "If you'd please excuse me now. I'm running late for work."
"You're welcome, Drake. See you around!"
...
It wasn't incompetence.
It wasn't a flawed mobile, either.
The hints had been there all along. He just hadn't drawn the right conclusion.
He ran a series of experiments, and soon he had gathered enough empirical evidence to call his suspicion a sound hypothesis. It explained why the fits of his pocket calculator became the more likely the more agitated he got. The cooling-down routine he had devised months ago fitted in nicely. With the proximity of the harmful influence being the key he had also an explanation why the computers in the library didn't suffer as much as the ones in the classroom. The library computers were situated safely beneath the desks whereas the computers in the classroom or, more accurately, the containers that housed their respective "brain", their central processing unit or CPU for short, sat on the desktops less than ten inches away from his limbic system.
Being fairly sure now of his findings and knowing that leaning back in his chair until he was barely able to reach mouse and keyboard with his outstretched arms would only reduce the number of freezes without eliminating them entirely, he plucked up his courage and asked the instructor to place the computer further off. She declined, saying the flex was too short for moving the equipment around.
He couldn't think of any pretext plausible enough to convince her to go and fetch a longer flex. He couldn't tell her the truth, either.
The unfairness infuriated him. His magical aura was far from being strong, but exist it did. He couldn't switch it of to prevent a bunch of tiny and evidently very vulnerable microprocessors from being disturbed! Needless to say, this bout of unchecked anger promptly caused the next freeze.
...
That night, jogging in Hind Green, an idea struck him. There was a method to shield his mind!
He sprinted home and wrenched out the Code of Conduct from the bottom of his wardrobe.
He wasn't all too surprised to find Occlumency not listed. You didn't need a wand to raise the Mind Shield. Done correctly, its existence couldn't be proved. A skilled Legilimens would still be able to get inside your mind, but he or she would only see the areas you allowed them to. Other, pre-selected parts were obscured in a way that gave the intruder no indication of whether or not anything was missing from the whole. As long as the assailant didn't know for certain that a specific memory had to be there the Inner Patronus could be employed without the risk of detection. So, why prohibit Occlumency if the Ministry snoops didn't have a reliable means to catch you using it?
Or was there a more sinister reason it wasn't mentioned?
Occlumency was an obscure art. The practitioners were more than likely to keep the knowledge among themselves. All the books he'd read on the subject were verbose about the benefits of Occlumency, but conspicuously vague about how to actually do it. They offered only worthless advice like Sleep for an hour before raising the Mind Shield or Rid yourself of all emotions.
Ridding yourself of all emotions while you were under attack was anything but realistic, and having your mind invaded was nothing less than an attack! The peak of absurdity was the idea of the nap, though. You'd have to know about an assault an hour in advance...
Teaching him Occlumency was the one thing he was grateful for to his aunt. He wouldn't have survived without the ability to shield his mind from the prying of the monster. However, he suspected that only fear had compelled her to make an exception and teach him a skill properly for once. She had been terrified of having to suffer the consequences should the monster discover the full scope of her nephew's weakness.
Draco had never cast a Corporal Patronus in public. In the privacy of his mind, the silvery peacock wasn't an embarrassment but a soothing memory of his grandfather carrying him outside on a warm sunny day and sitting him on a blanket spread out amidst a flock of colourful birds. It was the ultimate memory of his earliest childhood. The peacocks belonged to this early time like they belonged to the manor. All his father's attempts to get rid of them had been futile.
...
At the beginning of the next training session, Draco summoned his Inner Patronus to put a barrier between his mind and the computer core.
The result was disastrous.
The monitor went black instantaneously, a pungent smell emanated from the computer case, and not even the instructor was able to revive the system software.
...
128. The Job Offer
With the layout of the workstations in the classroom being beyond his control, he could pin his hopes solely on staying calm and collected while doing his assignments. Unfortunately, staying calm and collected never had come easily to him.
Curiosity and excitement had got the better of him when he was a child. As he grew older, frustration had taken over. Later, he had suffered through terror and black despair. Even now, removed in time and space from the sources of these troubles, maintaining a state of comparative tranquillity was a struggle.
Schooling his features into a mask of indifference might deceive humans, but it wasn't going to fool any microprocessors because no show of fake calm quenched the emotional turmoil raging inside.
Still, he wasn't ready to give up just yet, to accept defeat for yet another time in his life, merely because of an inconveniently placed piece of hardware. He was capable of working with a computer! Since attending the training sessions would be futile, though, he asked the new colleague who was in charge of all computer-related matters for permission to practise in the library.
She kindly showed him where to find suitable software, but was too busy to give him thorough explanations. Although this software was new to Draco and differed from the one used in class in various aspects, he experimented for a while with the unfamiliar type of spreadsheet to get at least a minimum of hands-on experience. The limited skill he gained this way wouldn't be enough to succeed in the exam even if the CPU was well out of harm's way. So, in the end, he resorted to his forte: learning facts by heart. He focussed on software theory, hardware components, and the impact computers had on everyday life.
As a result, he did exceptionally well in the written exam.
The practical part, however, was every bit the embarrassment he'd feared it to be. The computer shut down after about ten minutes and from there, it went downhill. The intervals between a restart and the next freeze became shorter and shorter until they were all but non-existent.
...
Once ICT was out of the way, Draco actually enjoyed revising for the other subjects. With his schedule temporarily reduced to a few hours of shelving, he even found time to expanded his knowledge by reading up on the recently introduced euro, a new currency now valid throughout almost the entire continent, and on the newest exploits of the ESA such as their space probe Envisat that collected scientific data on the earth's atmosphere and the oceans.
The exams in both subsidiary subjects went fine. He was halfway through sitting the papers for French when Mrs Highbury sought him out in his favourite reading corner.
"Am I interrupting, Mr Malfoy?" she asked softly.
"No, ma'am, not at all," Draco said, rising to his feet. "What can I do for you?"
"Quite a lot, actually." She gestured to a chair. "May I?"
"Of course. It's your library."
She smiled at his reply, and they sat down together.
"Mr Malfoy, may I ask what your plans are for the summer?"
"I'd like to go to Trethwyn for a couple of weeks," he said, watching her face carefully for her reaction. To be on the safe side, he added, "That is, I will go unless I'm needed here."
"Well, I won't beat about the bush," Mrs Highbury said. "I am here to offer you a job, a vacancy in a village library. They need somebody to help out because the man who has been running the library for many years has fallen ill. He'll have to undergo surgery and some subsequent treatment. I'm not yet informed of the details. A friend of mine phoned me this morning to tell me about the situation. Basically, he's asked me a favour, and I'm asking one of you, Mr Malfoy. Would you consider working in the library of Twin Mills until September or October? I know it's bad timing as you are in the middle of your exams, and I apologise for it. You don't have to answer immediately. Please, take one or two days to think about it."
"I'm not sure I comprehend," Draco said. His thoughts raced. Where was Twin Mills? Was it a safe, wizard-free place? "Where exactly do you expect me to work?"
"I'm asking you. I can't order you to go there. Of course, there's a legal aspect. Given your consent, I'd let your current contract lay dormant for a few months because I would like you to be able to come back without fuss."
"I'm still not sure about the implications." Draco said. "Where is Twin Mills situated?"
"It's on the western reaches of the Jurassic Coast, about one hour from here by car. I'd be perfectly fine with taking you there because going there by train and bus, especially when carrying luggage, might be a bit inconvenient. Besides, I'd like to introduce you to my friend."
He gave a tiny nod and asked, "What would be my duties?"
"Well, we are talking about a small village library. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say 7000 or 8000 books. They'll be mainly children's books or the type of novels that is dubbed light reading. I don't mean to sound degrading. The library in Twin Mills differs from the one here not only in size but also in purpose. It's a venue where young children are introduced to the concept of libraries and the joys of reading. In addition, it provides a bit of entertainment for the older residents. Unlike here, education is not the main objective. I'm afraid books that can be considered scientific will be scarce. Don't be disappointed.
"But I digress; you asked about your tasks. Well, I expect your main duty will simply be to be present. Closing such a little place for months would be the end of it. I'm sure you won't have to process reading lists or to organise a physical inventory. Maybe librarians from neighbouring communities will ask you to swap books with them because that is the most likely way how they refresh their stock. I trust they will help you once they realise you're new to the job.
"Perhaps you should talk to my friend directly. Would you mind following me to my office?"
...
Draco had often witnessed his colleagues making phone calls. The routine was picking up the handset, dialling the number and, after a moment's wait, stating one's name and the topic that should be discussed. Listening in on the one-sided conversations always felt a little weird. It certainly felt weird hearing Mrs Highbury explain about him to her friend.
Suddenly, she held out the handset to him.
"Mr Aylesbeare for you," was all she said.
Draco took the handset tentatively and raised it to his ear.
"This is Draco Malfoy speaking," he said into the mouthpiece.
"Pete Aylesbeare here. Pleased to meet you, Mr Malfoy, if only on the phone right now. I hope we'll soon meet in person. I can't wait, to be honest. We need somebody to take care of our snug little library. It's been the pride of our community for the past hundred years, and it would be a real shame to give it up. So, Emma tells me you have questions. Well, out with them!"
"Mr Aylesbeare, what would be my duties if I agreed to work in your library?"
Mr Aylesbeare didn't stop talking for nearly ten minutes before he, rather abruptly, said, "I'm sorry, there's my client just coming in. It was a pleasure talking to you, Mr Malfoy."
There was a faint click, followed by silence.
Stunned, Draco returned the handset to a smiling Mrs Highbury.
"Well," she said, and her smile became an amused grin. "Was your question answered?"
"If I take the job, I will have to keep the library open from nine thirty in the morning to eight in the evening, Saturdays and Sundays included. I will also have to bring books to elderly, sick or disabled people and retrieve them once said people are done reading," Draco summarised. "Mr Aylesbeare emphasised several times how important the library was for the village, its primary school, and a nearby health clinic. He promised to help me find proper accommodation. Mainly, though, he kept repeating that I was to come as soon as possible."
"I can understand his impatience, but he'll have to see that your exams take priority," Mrs Highbury said. "When will be the last one?"
"The morning after the late May bank holiday."
"I will inform him. I'll also have a word with him about the opening hours he seems to have in mind. Don't you worry about that; I'll sort it out," Mrs Highbury said. "In the meantime, Mr Malfoy, give the matter some serious thought. Could you let me know your decision by Friday?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Well, then, good luck with your remaining exams."
...
The prospect of spending a whole summer in a coastal village, of swimming and of roaming the beach was truly tempting. Having to work didn't daunt him. Carrying books to residents looked like an easy enough task, provided Mr Aylesbeare introduced him first.
He only had to make sure the village was safe. Thanks to taking Geography three years ago he knew the Jurassic Coast stretched from east Devon to west Dorset.
How far was Twin Mills away from Runcorn's cottage?
...
129. Research and Advice
Draco headed for the nearest Internet terminal. He logged in with his work account and opened the on-line encyclopaedia with the quirky name. He searched for Twin Mills, but no such entry existed. The only one containing the phrase was about the health clinic Mr Aylesbeare had mentioned. A photograph showed an assembly of five handsome buildings surrounded by a well-kept park. Molescombe Health Clinic had been built around 1900 in the style of the art and crafts movement as a hospital for patients suffering from tuberculosis. Today, it was a temporal home to rehabilitate those who recently had a damaged joint replaced with an artificial one and needed to learn to walk again.
Draco took a minute to mull over the idea of artificial joints. Having such replacements made sense in a world that didn't know of Skele-Gro. Imagining what physicians had to do in order to get these new joints inside of people was disturbing, though. It would seem that sticking needles in your arm wasn't the worst part of non-magical medicine.
Draco read the remaining two paragraphs of the entry. Twin Mills was mentioned only in passing. Apparently, patients were encouraged to walk to an outmoded water mill near the village as part of their exercise programme.
He also looked up Jurassic Coast. The entry extolled beauty and scientific worth of the one hundred miles of coastline between Exmouth in the west and Swanage in the east. The entire area had been named a World Heritage Site two years previously. A series of photographs depicted red cliffs, curious rock formations, and a variety of fossilised creatures.
He left the Internet and searched the library database for items that looked likely to provide further information. Then he fetched the key to the map room from Mrs Kentridge. She didn't ask why he needed it, and he swiftly brought it back with a simple thank you before he took the maps and a selection of guidebooks to his desk to study them.
...
Two hours later, he allowed himself to relax. Twin Mills was situated about one mile inland of the actual coast. The Coast Path passed by the village at half a miles distance. A visit to the carefully restored mill – the surviving one of the two that originally gave the village its name – was recommended by two of the three guidebooks he had consulted. Most importantly, the maps showed no conspicuously empty patches anywhere near the village. There seemed to be no unplottable areas in the vicinity.
He wrote down the facts he had gathered and made a photocopy of the map with the largest scale. As the copy was only in black and white he used coloured pencils to restore some of the lost information. By the time he put the finishing touches to it, the late shift had started.
He asked Miss Thompson, who was in charge for the evening, for the map room key.
"Are you working tonight, Mr Malfoy?" she wondered. "Don't you have an exam tomorrow?"
"I fetched a number of maps for private use earlier this afternoon," Draco said.
"Oh, are you planning a holiday?"
"No, Mrs Highbury offered me a job. I was looking up the village where I am to work."
"Ah, I've heard," Miss Thompson said. "The boss and Helen were talking about putting up an ad at the checkout. So she decided to ask you instead?"
"It would seem so."
"And you are interested?" The woman frowned. "Do you really want to spend four months in a hamlet that has nothing to appeal to young people? The nearest decent club is probably in Exeter!"
"I'm afraid I don't have much use for clubs at present," he said cautiously.
"But you should! Girls like to dance."
"I like to swim," he countered, wondering what exactly she was talking about.
"If you say so," she said, shaking her head. "Sitting on the cliffs and watching the waves roll ashore will be all the entertainment you'll get. You mark my words!"
"No offence, Miss Thompson, but I'm supposed to work there, not to twiddle my thumbs."
"Will this stint count as a work placement, then?"
"Maybe," he said vaguely. To end the exchange before it got entirely out of hand, he put the maps on her desk. "If you would please excuse me? I'll have to sit two papers tomorrow morning."
She wished him good luck, still shaking her head.
...
Mrs Highbury was genuinely glad when Draco told her he accepted. The paperwork concerning his absence was quickly sorted out.
From her office, Draco went directly to Mrs Shaw to notify her of the imminent change.
"I knew it," she said, a smug expression on her face. "I told Emma putting up an ad would be useless. Students like summer jobs, but not ones that will take up four months. You are the only one here who has actually enough time on his hands."
"You don't mind me leaving at such short notice?" Draco asked.
"Considering that I'm the one who suggested it? No, Mr Malfoy, I don't," she said. "Please forgive me the cliché, but I think you should view the next months as an opportunity to broaden your horizons. I have a hunch you missed out on a lot of things when you were younger, and maybe you're still missing out on many things now. Seen in this light, I think it's a wise decision to work elsewhere for a while. The experience will do you a lot of good.
"Besides, you'll see a type of library that is on the verge of dying out. More and more of the little places in the countryside are closed down due to lack of money. I suppose the rolling libraries are better than nothing, but the changeover still means there is a traditional element fading away. Libraries have been a source of knowledge for centuries. Especially in rural areas, they have been centres of cultural life. Now it looks like they are losing their importance because of the Internet and all the other new stuff.
"I know that's how the world turns. The only thing that really persists is change, but sometimes I can't help feeling a little nostalgic. I started working in a small-town library when I was fourteen. I worked four hours a week, and I liked it immensely. I soon decided that I wanted to become a librarian. A place like the one here would have put me totally in awe. I think it would have scared me off. You could say the naiveté of youth played a big part in my choice of career.
"Mr Malfoy, you don't strike me as the sort of young man who leaps before he looks. So, use the opportunity to look at library work from a different angle before you make a decision."
"Yes, Mrs Shaw," he replied dutifully.
"If you are serious about learning the trade once you're back, I'll make the time to teach you. I can't promise that I will be the most patient of teachers, but I'll try."
"Thank you, Mrs Shaw," he said, thoroughly astonished.
"You're welcome. Emma insists you deserve a chance, and Annie said more than once you were good librarian material. I agree with them in that you should be given a chance, although I suspect both Emma and Annie see only this scholar persona of yours – eager to learn and to please – and nothing of the man hiding behind the facade."
"How much do you know?" Draco spluttered in alarm. "About me, I mean. What do you know?"
"Nothing, really. It's just guesswork, based on tales about abused or neglected children who only manage to escape their unfortunate circumstances once they come of age," she said more solemnly than he had ever seen her. "I'm less good a reigning in my curiosity than Emma and Annie are, but I'll respect it if you're reluctant to talk about private matters."
"Good," he murmured, his face burning hot with embarrassment. "That's, er, considerate of you."
"It's all right, Mr Malfoy. We'll muddle through, somehow," she said. "Well, I had better go back to work before this chat gets yet more awkward, and I suppose you'll have some revising to do."
A smile crossed her face as she turned away, leaving Draco in a state of profound confusion.
...
Mrs Bates was delighted to hear Draco was leaving for the summer. She'd be able to rent out all three rooms to tourists since Mike and Adam were going to leave soon, too.
Draco also went to explain his plans to Mr White. The bank clerk gave him a printout listing local offices of the bank house as well as sundry cash machine sites in East Devon.
"I hope this will help," the man said. "Please let us know your new address and phone number as soon as possible."
"Will it be all right if I send a letter with my new address?"
"Either that or you can phone me. Here's my card," Mr White said, holding out a piece of white cardboard to Draco.
Up to this moment, Draco had been looking forward to spending an entire summer in a coastal village. The flaw had escaped him.
He took the proffered card, gave the clerk a brisk thank you, and left.
To be continued
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Author's note:
Thanks to Imo97 for beta reading this chapter.