Chapter 84 - Strange Bedfellows
Kingsley Shacklebolt was amazed how quickly a very respectable medical facility had been established at Malfoy Manor. He and Draco had consulted with the mediwizards Lucius had recommended and they advised to set up their infirmary in the ballroom, dividing the large open space with curtains. Beyond the physical set-up, the potions and other medical supplies were from Hogwarts itself, or some of the best European purveyors. Once there were beds in place, Kingsley had started to visit the witches and wizards on his list of British Death Eaters, and began a steady delivery of magically-depleted and injured individuals to the infirmary. He had anticipated resistance, or reluctance at the very least, when he, a well-known Auror, approached Death Eaters about helping them to relative safety. However, that was not the case at all. Most of these people were, first and foremost, feeling totally betrayed by their Dark Lord, regardless of the level of their depletion or collateral injuries. No one he was able to find refused the invitation to be taken to Malfoy Manor.
Aside from a dozen or so Death Eaters who he could not find at their homes or other known haunts, Kingsley had gathered everyone on the list provided by Snape and Malfoy by Wednesday night. Thursday, he started reviewing the list with those in the infirmary capable of being interviewed, to identify others who might be in need of assistance. A few of the Death Eaters he approached were reluctant to speak to him, but once one agreed to cooperate, the resistance ended. Once he'd gotten a few new names, Abner Goyle, the first willing to assist, suggested that he would continue the discussions with his colleagues so Kingsley could spend his time out gathering people as they were identified. It was a remarkable partnership, and a very efficient process.
Everyone seemed to be aware that there was a room over by the windows where their former colleagues were sleeping, and everyone avoided going near there. The mediwizards were excellent and were achieving remarkable results for most of those now in their care, but there were some former Death Eaters who were now stripped of magic entirely, and were experiencing the sleeping spell in their new status as muggles. The mediwizards had tried all they could think of to restore their magic, or to rouse them, but finally they had to conclude that these individuals were beyond their help. It had seemed prudent to place them all together for ease of whatever care they would need, and it also proved to be a good idea because the sight of the sleeping former wizards was very upsetting to the others in the infirmary.
Kingsley's Thursday collections task was quite different from the day before, as the people he was contacting now had generally been very discreet about their status and had never been public about their alliance with Voldemort. He was now visiting some of the finest homes in Great Britain and meeting with patrician heads of ancient families, people used to asking the questions and being in control. While his work on Wednesday involved people glad for the safety and help he offered, today's visits really made him draw on his Auror training. He had to spend a good deal of time talking to each one he visited, engaging in verbal sparring matches with most. The fact that he arrived attired in his exotic African robes always helped, because he did not look like a Ministry employee, especially not an Auror. That was why he continued to wear those robes, even though his family had lived in Great Britain for five centuries now. His deep, rich voice also helped, adding gravity to his words by the weight of the sound. As he met with each of these supposed and/or clandestine Death Eaters, he carefully observed and assessed if they seemed to have depleted magic or were otherwise ill, and he watched the reaction to the names he dropped (Cornelius Fudge, then Amelia Bones, Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy) to plot his most persuasive argument for them to accompany him to Malfoy Manor. In some cases, it was also necessary to establish a credible story to tell family and business associates to explain a trip of several days duration to visit at the Malfoys. It was a bit of a drudge to tell the story over and over, but it proved necessary with all he met with. By his estimate, only one of his meetings on Thursday was with someone who was NOT a Death Eater. She was an elderly witch, who appeared to have no outward sign of any magical depletion. After some waltzing about, she finally showed Kingsley her unmarked forearm and explained "Lord Voldemort had been in persistent suit for my allegiance until several months ago, and then he stopped contacting me completely. I have not seen or heard from him since."
One younger wizard, Eustace Landon, was a particularly difficult case. He was not the head, but the scion, of a venerable family, and despite haughtiness that rivaled Lucius', he was clearly very much dependent on his family for his financial support and social standing. It was equally clear that both would be jeopardized if they knew he had taken the Dark Mark. Even though Kingsley was able to secure a private meeting with the young man, Eustace was clearly unwilling to admit to anything that would meet with his father's disapproval. He continued to deny any involvement with Voldemort , even though he was clearly very weak and under stress from trying to hide that fact. It was only when Kingsley thought to propose that Eustace join a gathering at the Malfoy Manor of young witches and wizards of good standing to make the acquaintance of Harry Potter that he got a flicker of a favorable reaction. He added that Mr. Malfoy had arranged for the presence of some outstanding, and very discreet, mediwizards to assist any visitors in need of any magical medical care. Before Eustace could respond to that proposal, an older and very severe looking gentleman entered the room, in clearly expensive formal robes and all puffed up and full of self-importance. "Now see here! I will not have Ministry functionaries disturbing my family. What is this about?" Kingsley forced down his desire to hex the man for his rudeness, and responded in his most silky tones "I am acting now in my capacity as special Ministry Liaison to the offices of Harry Potter, at Mr. Potter's specific request and on Minister Bones' direction. Mr. Potter has asked for the opportunity to meet with some of the younger witches and wizards of prominence who have wizarding backgrounds different from his own, and Lucius Malfoy has graciously offered the hospitality of his Manor for such a gathering. I am here to invite young Mr. Landon to join us." As he suspected he would, the older man immediately reacted to all the names he had just dropped, Harry's in particular. After almost no further thought, he said "It will do the boy good to make the acquaintance of Potter, and meet Lucius Malfoy as well." With that, he turned on his heels and left.
Kingsley looked at the slightly relieved Eustace, and softly added "I imagine you will be at the Manor for several days, maybe longer. We'll have anything you need, or one of the house elves there can pop back here to retrieve anything you may require from home. We will take a portkey to the Manor." He extracted a charmed notebook from a pocket and held it out. As soon as Eustace touched it, he spoke "Malfoy Manor" and they were whisked away.
For all his bravado at his home and in front of his father, Eustace collapsed in a heap upon arrival at the Manor and was immediately taken to the mediwizards. They were astounded that the young man had been able to stand at all over the last few days, his magical reserves were so depleted. They were hopeful of being able to restore his magical strength, possibly even to its prior levels. To no one's surprise, and his protestations to the contrary notwithstanding, upon removing his robe and shirt as they prepared to get him into a bed, it was discovered that Eustace did, indeed, bear the Dark Mark.
X X X X X X X X X X
At Riddle Manor, Voldemort finally felt up to the task of dealing with this new world that he had created. He had planned to do it yesterday, but was still so drained himself that he slept the day away. His house elves had woken him for nourishment and healing potions, though, so this morning was a good one. He felt strong and anxious to see what he had wrought.
He wasn't sure about sharing his world yet, but also realized that some of those he might want to rouse might soon be past revival if he did not wake them now or put them in a state of stasis. His first stop was his audience chamber, where he uttered a stasis spell. Nagini, draped across his shoulders, was furiously tasting the air with her tongue. "Master, three of your servants have not survived. I smell death." The snake pointed her head at three bodies, and Voldemort had to agree – they were definitely dead and there was a smell of decomposition in the air. He had no further use for these three, then, and with a wave of his wand, he vanished them. The others looked alive, and seemed to be breathing, so he cast a spell to wake them.
As it happened, the one who had only suffered a reduction in his magical levels had been in a light coma, and was coming around to the point that the noises made by Voldemort and Nagini really did wake him. He was very weak and barely able to stand up in the presence of his lord. Voldemort assumed that he was suffering from the lack of food and water, and simply summoned a house elf to get him into a bed and tend to him.
The two who remained asleep despite the charm to wake them puzzled Voldemort, but Nagini's flicking tongue confirmed that they lived. Not wanting to delay his progress through a ruined world, and deciding that he would enjoy this experience more alone with just Nagini for company, he summoned more house elves and had those two moved to beds for care. He would address their inability to awaken later.
Voldemort strode calmly down the lane that connected Riddle Manor to the road that led to the village and then down that road, enjoying the sounds of the chirping birds and barking dogs. It was a bit of a walk, but he put a featherweight charm on Nagini, and enjoyed the breeze as his long strides took him closer to the village he detested. He did not want to miss any of the destruction here. About five minutes into his stroll, he came upon his first muggles. Some boys who had been riding bicycles had ridden off the side of the road and landed in ditches, and were sleeping amid the ruins of the bicycles. A bit further along, he began to see automobiles that had clearly been in motion when their drivers fell asleep. Two had crashed right into each other – it must have been quite a fireball, as the cars were charred black, and Nagini confirmed that she smelled death in them. Elsewhere, he saw automobiles that had crashed into trees and tall wooden poles by the sides of the road, and over there, one had plowed right into a house! A few muggles who had been moving about but not in cars, were stretched out in various places. Some looked like they were sleeping contentedly, but others had clearly had more violent landings as they went to sleep, with limbs at unnatural angles to their bodies, and blood pooling beneath them.
Possibly Voldemort's favorite site of this morning stroll was a small group of houses huddled together as the road entered the town proper. Fire had spread through the three small homes, utterly destroying them. Even nearby trees were singed, and cars parked too close to the houses had exploded. While the fires had died down, there was still some smoke, and the lovely smell of destruction.
The town itself, with its tight concentration of muggles, afforded its own lovely vistas. With more pedestrians out amid the automobiles, there were more crashes that prominently featured destroyed muggle bodies, pinned between cars, or between cars and trees or buildings, clearly run over or even still beneath cars. A very large bus had crashed into the base of a bridge, and there were bodies strewn within it.
There had been enough accidents with fatal outcomes, and enough death in general, to satisfy Voldemort's blood lust and cause Nagini to report the smell of death, that neither noticed that many muggles were sleeping and in no distress at all. Yes, a car had struck a baby carriage and mangled it badly, but the frame of the carriage had protected the infant within, who was sleeping contentedly. A child who had been on a swing had tumbled into the sand below, now sound asleep. Even some of the automobile accidents involved drivers and passengers secured by their seatbelts, and further protected by deployed airbags, now sleeping in the ruins of their cars. Voldemort did not look that closely at the muggles to see that if they had survived whatever happened to them at the moment sleep overtook them, they were doing fine now.
"Ah, my faithful Nagini, it does my heart good to see these worthless vermin reduced to this! The total inevitability, the certainty of the outcome, just the passage of a modest amount of time, and they will all be dead. And the chance to winnow the vermin and weak from the ranks of the magical! This was truly a momentous event, one that the future will regard with awe – the time that those who did not merit space in this world were summarily dispatched from it, without further thought, so that those who deserve what this world can offer will be assured of a large portion!"
As a child in the orphanage, Tom Riddle had seen almost nothing of England, and by the time his horizons had expanded, he was part of the wizarding, not muggle, world. But there was one place in muggle London of which he had seen a picture in a book that captured his imagination at the time, and which later began to represent the excess and folly of the muggle world to him – the bustling hub, Piccadilly Circus. "Come, my pet. Let's visit Piccadilly Circus." With a chilling laugh, Voldemort and his snake rose into the air, and began a leisurely flight toward London.
X X X X X X X X X X
The Ministry of Magic's Emergency Office had conducted a very successful international meeting, at which mutual cooperation and support were pledged and preliminary rescue plans shared. The stasis spell had fundamentally changed the definition of "rescue" in this context. It enabled the British Ministry to focus on a plan it had developed called "Operation Safe Harbor." The objective of Operation Safe Harbor was to move sleeping muggles to places of secure shelter, where the environment would allow them to safely sleep off the spell. Witches and wizards, able to use levitation spells, would move the muggles to shelters, and the plan was to have squibs monitor them to assure that all remained well in the shelters and that they remained secure.
The Ministry workers had been working in teams to identify locations in cities and towns across Britain that could shelter larger numbers of muggles, and established protocols to follow in suburban and rural areas. When Albus Dumbledore approached the Ministry with the request that his Hogwarts students be allowed to assist in these efforts, the initial negative reaction was changed by both the force of Dumbledore's arguments (focusing on the fact that his students were all magically strong, and had a strong desire to be of service) and the development of Operation Safe Harbor. Operation Safe Harbor presented opportunities for participation in some safer environments. Further, by bringing students to London, they could be paired up with Ministry workers or even Aurors, an additional safety consideration. An agreement was reached, and a secure floo connection established between Hogwarts and the Ministry. Today was the first day it would be used by the volunteers, who were queuing up at the designated Hogwarts hearth. The group assembled included students, and some of the adult witches and wizards staying at the school at the time.
Ron Weasley was at the head of the group of students waiting to leave, appropriate because he'd been leading the informal teams that had gathered students' families. His brother Charlie was there, which meant that Draco had signed on for this as well. Fred and George were ready to go, as was Seamus and a large contingent from Gryffindor. Sirius and Remus were in the crowd, although not yet certain of the roles they wanted to play. They had discussed whether they should even bother to go to the Ministry at all, and decided to at least start there. As word got around of the Ministry's program, Operation Safe Harbor, Sirius had a predictably negative reaction to that name and he could not resist a small outburst. "I'm not going to spend my days in some muggle elementary school levitating muggles into classrooms! Where's the fun in that?" Remus smiled at him, although he had to agree that putting them, in particular, into that situation would be a terrible waste of talent. As animagi, they could certainly serve in a very different role, one that most others could not. However, unlike his volatile mate, Remus did want to hear what the Ministry was planning, even if he and Sirius decided to strike out on their own.
As they arrived at the Ministry, the staff welcomed the volunteers and began arranging them into teams to work on Operation Safe Harbor. Sirius and Remus held back, and watched as Charlie and Draco were paired with a Ministry worker to go to Cambridge and get the students at the university into safe locations. Charlie looked a bit put out at the rather tame assignment, but Draco looked relieved. The twins were off to shopping malls with a group of students and a Ministry worker to sort out shoppers and salespeople, and Ron's eyes bugged as he landed what he clearly regarded as an absolute plum assignment, working with an Auror and a wizard about Charlie's age in the subways of London, mostly securing platforms and waiting areas.
None of this was exactly what Remus or Sirius had in mind, so they quietly slipped out of the Ministry and apparated into central London to see if there wer more muggles to be extricated from the numerous accidents that littered the street. On the few missions they'd been on to date, especially when transfigured into Mooney and Padfoot, their heightened senses of smell and Mooney's extraordinary strength had enabled them to find dozens of muggles that Ministry teams had missed. Sirius had spent time in muggle London, as had Remus, and he recommended that they go to one of his favorite places to observe muggles, the area around Piccadilly Circus.
As they began to walk around in that area, Padfoot sniffed every car and bus carefully, and Mooney sniffed and used his great height to look into their windows. They were in a spot that had apparently been swept by an uncommonly competent team already, but then they reached the roundabout. There was an absolute riot of mayhem, as cars and busses had plowed into each other, light posts, and the monument in the center, and a few had even jumped the curb and plowed into the buildings. There was a great deal of water; most likely, a fire hydrant had been hit, as well.
Their sharp hearing caught something – a flapping sound, but it wasn't birds. In keeping with the nature of their human cores, the werewolf stepped back into a doorway and melted into the shadows, where the big black dog stood his ground and scanned the skies. It took a minute for Voldemort and his familiar, Nagini, to land by the monument in the center of Piccadilly Circus. Padfoot noted with relief that he was downwind of them. The snake might be able to taste him in the air. For that matter, when he got a good look at how Voldemort's appearance had become so snake-like, he wondered if the lunatic might now be able to taste the air with his tongue, too. With as much stealth as his canine form could manage, he slowly and cautiously walked toward the odd pair.
Voldemort took a very deep breath as he surveyed the chaos. He could smell the fossil fuels the muggles loved so, as the gasoline spilled from the ruptured gas tanks of their cars, and there had been fires, he could smell that, too. And death – he did not need Nagini to confirm that quite a few muggles had perished in the wreckage before him. His heart swelled as he spotted bloody muggle bodies in smashed cars, muggles under cars and busses, and a few even pinned between vehicles and against buildings. He felt a momentary pang of regret. He could imagine the sounds of the crashes, all these silly alarms muggles were so fond of going off, and the crackling of fires, but it was silent now. He consoled himself with the thought that there would not have been the sounds of screaming, shrieking muggles, because they had already been asleep and silent when all this happened. If he had missed that, he truly would have been despondent. This scene of destruction had been a silent one in terms of the sounds of human anguish that he loved so, so viewing it several days after the event did not omit that much of the pleasure of the experience.
Voldemort began to walk around the center of the roundabout, to cherish every gory detail in the tableau he had created, stopping short with a sharp intake of breath when he spotted a large black dog sitting on his haunches and watching him with enormous black eyes. He was so excited, he clapped in glee. "A Grim! How splendid! What a fortuitous omen – a dark blessing for my work!" Nagini was also inspecting the black dog, her tongue flicking the air rapidly. "Master, this is not a dog; this creature has magic."
"Well, of course, it has magic! It's the Grim! The harbinger of death, come to admire the death and destruction that I have wrought here." With glowing pride and enthusiasm, Voldemort addressed himself to the dog, who had now risen and was calmly and slowly approaching him. "I've given you a bit of business, haven't I, my friend?" he asked, as he gestured expansively around him. The Grim wagged its tail, to Voldemort's obvious delight. "But you must not be impatient! I see that many of the muggles and probably some wizards became your charges as soon as I induced them to go to sleep, with crashes and falls and fires, but the ones who live still are sleeping and they will not wake. They will probably last not more than another day or two before the lack of water will bring about their ends. They'll be dying soon, in droves! And it will be a much different, much better world when I'm through. There are some wizards I will spare, so the magical race will survive. But none of these vermin, the muggles. And just a hand-chosen group of those with magic – those who are of pure blood and strong magic, and who have been granted my favor. It will be a glorious new world, with everyone in it working in harmony, toward the goals that I identify."
Voldemort had fallen into step beside the Grim as it ambled past him, and now the man reached down to stroke the back of the fearsome beast and scratch it lightly behind its ears, earning some further tail wags for his efforts. He laughed his chilling laugh, which went silent as soon as the snake hissed something in his ear, at which point he abruptly stopped and turned. Padfoot momentarily panicked when he realized that Voldemort had spotted Mooney. Another ugly laugh erupted from the madman. "Oh, this gets better and better! Who ever saw a feral werewolf, in broad daylight, in the middle of all these muggles! He must be having himself a field day, almost as good as yours, my friend!"
Padfoot gave momentary thought to bolting and chasing after Mooney, which he thought would be in character for a Grim, but he noticed that Voldemort was walking toward an entrance to the Underground. He remembered hearing Ministry teams being dispatched to gather sleeping muggles from the subway platforms, so he started barking in frantic warning. He feigned interest in a particularly awful-looking wreck, hoping to distract Voldemort from the Underground entrance. It worked momentarily, as Voldemort mistakenly assumed that the barking and prancing was because death had just claimed another victim in the car. But Voldemort delayed only long enough to offer yet another celebratory scratch behind the ears. "Good boy! What fun you are having today! Come, if you wish, I want to see what may have happened down in the muggle Underground!" He was going to go into the subway station.
Mooney had revealed himself hoping to give Padfoot the chance to bolt after him, and when Padfoot did not come to him, he stayed close behind and kept track of what was happening with Padfoot.,using the the ultra-sensitive hearing that his magical animagus form provided. Fortunately, he, too, had heard at least one team from the Ministry being dispatched to do their rescue work in the subways. Even more fortunately, he'd lived at times in cheap flats in the muggle world, in one flat in particular very near this spot. He'd used this Underground station himself many times, and knew how different entrances above ground fed into a common station beneath them. When Mooney heard Voldemort express his intention to go into the Underground station, he bolted into the nearest entrance himself. He could hear people down there, so he ran past the entrance barriers to the trains and followed the sounds. When he got close to those sounds, he transfigured back into Remus Lupin as he approached a rescue team. He did not want the sudden appearance of a werewolf to provoke screams. He found a rescue team levitating several muggles onto one of the main platforms, likely having collected them from smaller stations down the line. Signalling for silence with rapid, broad gestures, he grabbed Ron, the auror and the other wizard and pushed them gently but urgently down onto the platform with the sleeping muggles. Whispering, and turning their faces away from the stairway, he said "Close your eyes. Pretend that you are asleep, just like the muggles. NOW!" Remus did his animagus transformation as he stood up, just in time. Voldemort arrived on the platform to see a massive werewolf crouching over a half dozen sleeping muggles. Mooney cast the fiercest and most hostile glare he could manage, and bared his fangs. He was not sure if Voldemort would take hostile action against him. It had sounded aboveground as if the lunatic was in good humor, but who knew? Mooney just wanted to look as formidable as possible, and create the impression that he was about to attack sleeping muggles, in order to protect Ron and the others. He made a soft warning growl as he continued to eye Voldemort and Nagini with suspicion. Voldemort was, indeed, in an expansive mood. He bowed with an elegant flourish toward the looming, snarling werewolf, and with a chuckle, said "Far be it from me to stand between a hungry werewolf and his next meal! I thank you, good sir, for your help in hastening the demise of these sleeping vermin!" Padfoot had followed Voldemort into the Underground station, to his delight when he saw the dog again. With another scratch behind the dog's ears, he said "Ah, my friend, more work for you! These muggles appear to be about to end their time on this earth."
With an awful laugh, Voldemort turned and flew up the stairs and out of the Underground into the London sky. Padfoot ran out after him, to verify that he was gone, as the werewolf continued to stand guard over the sleeping muggles and terrified wizards. It was only when a black dog appeared coming down the stairs again, who in midstride transfigured into Sirius Black, that Mooney himself returned to the form of Remus Lupin, and he embraced his lover in strong arms.
"He's left the area?"
A beaming Sirius, long curly locks bouncing, nodded affimatively.
"What on earth were you thinking, walking along with him?"
"It seemed to be a good idea at the time."
"I'll deal with you, later."
Together, Sirius and Remus helped the three wizards stand and brush themselves off. Ron warmly hugged the two men in gratitude, which seemed to put the other two at some ease. They knew Ron was a good friend of Harry Potter's and assumed that these two were, as well. The Auror noted that he'd seen them in the group at the Ministry, but had not seen them leaving as part of a Ministry team. All Ministry teams had at least one Auror or Ministry worker; this particular team had two because one of the Hogwarts students was part of the team. Remus explained that he and Sirius had thought about joining a Ministry team, but decided that they could contribute more by continuing their private work. The Auror grimaced. In his considered opinion, these rank amateurs were creating unnecessary problems in an already difficult situation with their well-meaning but foolhardy "private" excursions. Before he could get into an argument with the two over their foolish behavior, Ron asked the question that was on the mind of the other of his two companions: "Was that You-Know-Who who just came in here?" To the nods of Sirius and Remus, the Auror's jaw went slack, the other wizard keeled over in a dead faint, and Ron, with a big grin, said "Wicked!"
"Did they issue you portkeys to return to the Ministry?" Sirius asked.
The Auror produced a handful of medalions. "The silver ones take injured muggles and wizards straight to St. Mungos, and the gold ones will bring us right to the Ministry. The copper one – we each have one – vibrates in our pockets if there is a problem and if that happens, we are to return to the Ministry at once."
"Good. We need to get back immediately, and should pull all the teams back, too. Muggles will keep another day. Voldemort is out and about – sightseeing the mess he's made. He is not aware that everyone with magic is awake, and that the muggles are sleeping in stasis, and we don't want him to find out, which could happen if he spots a team out working. Remus, can you carry that poor sod?"
Remus picked up the wizard, who was still out cold, as if he was a small child, earning a curious look from the Auror. Together, Ron, Sirius and Remus touched the gold medalion held out by the Auror, and they were yanked off to the Ministry.
X X X X X X X X X X
Harry was growing restless and, to be honest, a bit bored. He had spent the morning up in his offices, working with the Headmaster, Severus and Hermione. The Headmaster had spent several very productive hours after he dispatched everyone else to bed. The connection that Harry had spotted between the passages in Salazar Slytherin's Dark and Light notebooks was borne out by his further study, and he'd spent some further time consulting some of the books on bondage that Hermione had found in the Malfoy Manor Library, and the pensieved memories Severus had provided of the Death Eater initation rituals. He had asked Harry to review several passages from the two notebooks with him, discussing the way they were worded, trying to wring every iota of meaning from them, so Harry had re-translated them, and then discussed each translation in great detail with the others. As he worked last night, the Headmaster had begun to sketch out some theorems, and he had at least three parchments covered in ancient runes and what looked like mathematical calculations. Severus had begun to review them, and Hermione patiently awaited her turn. Harry took a look at what had caught their attention, and shook his head: just as the books written in Parseltongue apparently looked like doodles to them, these parchments were nearly as unintelligible to him. When he'd retranslated the key passages, and defended and reverified his translations a second time, the others finally seemed to accept that they had as much information from the notebooks as they were going to get, and they began discussing Dumbledore's theories and ideas. Harry assumed that when they finished, they'd have a spell or charm that he could cast to block the drain from the Dark Mark, or maybe even remove it altogether, and some way of delivering that to those who bore the Mark, hopefully not one witch or wizard at a time, and some way not requiring said witch's or wizard's cooperation. Until they reached that point, though, there was really nothing that Harry could do or contribute, and it made him edgy to sit there and watch and listen to a discussion that he simply did not understand.
"I think I'll nip on down to the greenhouses, and see how Neville's doing."
Severus looked up, and nodded in understanding. "I'll come for you as soon as we have some plans."
As Harry exited the castle and started walking down the path that led to the greenhouses, he marveled at the number of people out and about around the grounds. Even with so many students volunteering to assist with the Ministry rescues, and working in the dungeons on potions, there were still so many people still at Hogwarts! He was about halfway to his destination, when a voice called to him from behind. "Oy, Harry, wait up!"
To Harry Potter's surprise, another young man, tall with reddish hair, who had been walking just a few feet ahead of him, had turned at the call too. Neville was still a distance away, as the two Harry's regarded each other. The taller boy approached him, hand out to shake Harry's in greeting. "Hi, I gather you are Harry Potter, as I've seen some pictures of you. Nice to meet you, and thanks for waking us all up." Harry was a bit shocked, as he realized that he recognized this other boy, also named Harry, from the limited access he'd had to newspapers and television programs back in the muggle world. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."
The prince chuckled at the "sir." "Harry, you're the royalty in this world, not me. I'm surprised that you recognize me. Most real wizards have no idea who I am."
"Well, I grew up in the muggle, that is, non-magical, world. I only learned that I was a wizard when I was eleven, so I have seen you in newspapers and the odd program on television. I think I heard that you and your brother are squibs?"
The two boys chatted until Neville had caught up to them, and Harry made the introductions. It was clear to the amusement of both Harrys that as a result of Neville's wizarding upbringing, he had no idea who the other boy was, and it was clear to Harry Potter that his new acquaintance liked it that way. Wishing the young man a good day, Harry and Neville headed down to Professor Sprout's office, which Neville was using as his staging ground for managing the greenhouses. The little office was nestled into a space where the castle, a castle wall and the greenhouses converged, so that Professor Sprout could get to her Hufflepuffs, and to her plants, with equal ease and speed. The part of the office that was closest to the greenhouses looked more like a potting shed than any office, and this was the area that Neville had taken for his work. He'd made up charts of what was growing where, what care it needed and with what frequency, what was needed at one times for potion production, and who was assigned to take care of what. It was quite impressive.
"Actually, Professor Sprout asked me to leave the charts when this is all over. She kept most knowledge of what was going on down here in her head. It took me a day or so to gather this all in one place, but now that I have it, it's ever so easy to keep track of things, and it should work for her too. I've also worked up some charts about her "squib squad" so she knows what they've been taught to do. Makes it easier for her to not have to teach them all something new every day, and I think they are happier when they can start to learn better how to handle things. It was a bit noisy down here at first when they were all terrified of everything, but now most of them are getting comfortable with at least one plant or task."
The two visited for a while, but eventually Neville had to get out to the greenhouses to check on things. "Can I come along? I don't want to go back to the castle yet." Neville nodded at that request, and together they started walking through the greenhouses, as Neville pointed out and then made notes in a little book he carried of the things that needed doing – a plant in need of a larger pot, several plants that needed pruning, a few that should be fed a pork chop that evening and others that could do with a nice steak. Harry had taken the required Herbology classes, but had never spent more than the absolute minimum time down in the greenhouses, so he'd never seen most of this stuff and had never learned some of the more advanced care that Neville clearly had. "I'm really impressed with how much you know about this, Neville. The Herbology classes we took did not even hint of all these other plants and things that a herbologist needs to know."
"Actually, Harry, the required classes here only touch the surface. When you start to study for OWLs or NEWTs, you need to spend time here with the plants and work with them, because you just can't get the level of detail you need with textbooks." They had arrived at a row of tall plants that seemed to be conspiring among themselves to thwart efforts to harvest their mature leaves. Once it was clear that neither Neville nor Harry had designs on their foliage, the plants calmed a bit at their end of the row, although there was someone working down the way who was definitely going after those leaves, and they redirected all their efforts at that poor soul. "One of the squibs was tasked with harvesting the leaves here – they are a basic ingredient in a nerve-regenerating potion that's been needed a great deal – she had a really bad time of it the first day and was fussing something awful, but once she got the hang of it, I think she'd be upset if we asked her to do something else. That's why I'm trying to help Professor Sprout keep the assignments straight." As Neville described the plants and the efforts to harvest their leaves, Harry was too intent on looking at them for the details Neville pointed out to see who was in the row, and he looked up with a start and sharp intake of breath when he found himself face to face with Aunt Petunial
Harry recovered from the surprise first. "Aunt Petunia, have you met Neville Longbottom? He's one of my classmates, and he's managing the greenhouses for Professor Sprout. Nevilled, this is my aunt, Petunia Dursley." She seemed reluctant to even open her mouth (a first, in Harry's book), but muttered a fast hello as she extracted her hand from a dragonskin glove and reached out to shake the young man's hand. They both noted the way she wiped that hand on her sleeve before retuning it to the safety of the glove. While Harry had seen Petunia only last night, he felt he should speak to her for a few moments, and Neville moved along, telling Harry that he'd look for him at lunch.
"So, it appears that you recovered from your shock. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I was able to return to my dormitory to sleep last night."
"Adjusting to life in a magic castle? I heard it was a house elf that startled you. They can be a bit scary the first time you see them, can't they?
Petunia eyed Harry with suspicion. Why was he being civil to her? He was still a freak, but he did look a bit different, now that she had the chance to look at him in broad daylight. Something was different. He looked different, but she could not put her finger on it. Beyond that, he carried himself differently here. Not the meek, whiny, almost subservient little brat he always was at Privet Drive. He seemed to have confidence in himself. Well, at least some of all the discipline and guidance given by Vernon and herself, to say nothing of the fine example that her Dudders provided, must have finally borne fruit! She was not going to allow him to think though that anything was fundamentally different just because they were at his school rather than her home. Oh, that would never do!
"How quickly can we get out of this place? I want to take my Vernon and Dudley and leave as soon as possible, back to where normal people are." Her statement was followed by a loud hiccup, and Harry tried to hide his smile. He surmised that statement was not sufficiently negative to summon a loud belch or fart, but negative enough to merit a loud hiccup. Severus had really outdone himself with that spell!
Harry did not rise to the bait. "Aunt Petunia, many of us are working as hard as we can to get you back to your life, but it will be at least several months until the sleeping spells wear off, and there is nothing we can do to hasten that. Right now, we are doing all that we can to keep the sleeping people safe while they sleep, and to get the muggle world back to where it was, as best we can. There are things we have to repair, and things we have to keep going, so the world is as much like you left it when the muggles awake. I assure you, we are not dawdling. At least while you are here, you are fed and housed. This really is such a fascinating world. So many things look familiar, just like what you knew in the muggle world, but they are totally different here. Even if you plan to go right back to your muggle existence when it is time to leave, I'd hope you'd want to experience just some of the uniqueness of this world, one that so many just don't ever have the chance to see."
Harry paused to look at her with his startling green eyes blazing. Petunia looked at him, and it hit her. That was it – where were his eyeglasses? Had he wasted money to buy contact lenses? Certainly she and Vernon were not going to pay for such an extravagance for this worthless brat! He spoke again. "Actually, Aunt Petunia, you could have a place in this world. If you choose to walk the path toward a magical life, I can see that it could be a very pleasant and gratifying existence for you. It will be your choice, one you do not have to make now, but think on it. The time will come when you need to decide, and you will have just one chance to do so."
"What crazy nonsense is this? What are you going on about? I want absolutely nothing to do with this magical world, and cannot fathom how life among the freaks (with her comment punctuated by a very noisy fart) could be anything but excruciating, not gratifying! Why on earth are you talking like that? You sound crazy!" To Petunia's surprise, Harry never flinched when she spoke harshly to him, and he made no attempt to placate her or apologize. He regarded her calmly, which only infuriated her more, and her prior habits kicked in. She raised a hand to slap Harry across the face for his impudence, when he casually waved his hand, and she found that she could not move her arm at all. Try as she might, her arm hung limply at her side, and she could not get it to move. She looked at Harry with her rage building, her eyes bulging, and that vein in her temple pulsing, and he had the audacity to just look back at her, no cowering or apologizing. He seemed utterly unpetrubed, as he smiled and just turned away.
"How dare you just walk away from me, young man! Come back here this instant and undo whatever it is you did to my arm! You impertinent bastard! (punctuated here by a rumbling belch) I'll tell Vernon when he wakes up! You won't see a scrap of food, or be able to sit, for a week when you have to come back to Privet Drive this summer, just you wait and see!
Harry turned back just briefly, taking just the time to cast a silencing spell, and he resumed his calm stroll back to the castle. Nothing Petunia said bothered him. He'd seen the paths that would be open to her, and was amazed that someone so antagonistic to magic might find her true happiness amid that which she now so vocally despised.
He'd always thought that his life was a three-ring circus, but this possible future for his aunt was mind-boggling.