Chapter 95 – Close Encounters
The first week of Mrs. Longbottom's course was over in a trice. The people in the class were surprised how fast the time had passed, and amazed that they were as tired as they were from a week that many anticipated would be a doddle. The only one who seemed almost refreshed by the experience was, not surprisingly, the indomitable Mrs. Longbottom herself.
The owls delivered newspapers daily from around the world, all reporting modest attacks on wizards and their communities, but most of the activity seemed to be centered in and around London. It was clear that the dedicated Death Eaters were finding each other, and presumably Voldemort was finding at least some of them. However, the power of the Dark Mark was largely gone. The attacks were as vicious and damaging as one wizard, or maybe two, could make them, but the real devastation of a large casting drawing power from many wizards was missing. That did not stop Harry from feeling a nagging concern that this was the calm before the storm.
The only event midweek that disturbed the smooth passage of time was Professor McGonagall's suggestion to the Headmaster that it was time for Pharaoh Nitrocris to move from Gryffindor tower to one of the other Houses. The young ruler was quite upset when she heard of the comment.
Hermione immediately shared her observations that the Pharaoh seemed quite smitten by Neville Longbottom with the older woman, who despite her frosty exterior, quite relished a good bit of gossip. A rare smile flickered across her face as she said "Well, Miss Granger, most interesting! We did agree that the Pharaoh would either stay in the House to which she was sorted for the duration of her stay, or spend some time in each of the four Houses before we discovered the Sorting Hat's conclusion. Maybe . . . " With a twinkle in her eye, she ended the conversation, to go in search of the Headmaster.
"Now, Albus, I know we agreed that the young lady would move among all the Houses, but no one could have anticipated this development."
The older wizard looked across his steaming teacup with a grin. Minerva was such a romantic – this story of "young love" had really captured her imagination. "I certainly appreciate the charm of this situation, Minerva, but there was a condition attached to her housing arrangements, and we must honor that. If we know how the Sorting Hat placed her, she would need to be lodged in that House for her stay here, and it might not be Gryffindor."
Now it was Minerva's turn to smile. "If there was some reason to refrain from moving her to a different House, though, for some reason, say, I assume that she could remain in her current lodging?"
With a small sigh, Albus just looked at his Deputy Headmistress, whose eyes were twinkling just as his often did. "I suspect I do not wish to know where this is going. Yes, Minerva, there could be circumstances, I suppose, where it would be more prudent to leave the Pharaoh in her current location rather than move her about. I hope whatever situation arises is not one that we all come to regret."
The smallest smile flickered across her face as Professor McGonagall stood and took her leave. "Of course, Headmaster."
The next morning, Albus was not entirely surprised to learn that Madam Pomfrey had been summoned to the Gryffindor seventh year girls' dormitory during the night before to deal with a case of verdemengus. One of the young women had complained of a headache before retiring, and awoke during the night with large green blotches all over her body. The condition was not life-threatening, or even all that difficult to treat, but it was potentially contagious. Madam Pomfrey quickly removed the patient to the Infirmary, and checked over the others sharing the dormitory. None of them were ill, but each was dosed with the potion that would cure the condition, just in case. As a further precaution against allowing this to spread to others, Madam Pomfrey spoke privately with Professor McGonagall and Pharaoh Nitrocris and recommended that there be no movement among dormitories at this time, just in case.
Nitrocris looked very pleased with that recommendation, to the very well-disguised amusement of Professor McGonagall.
X X X X X X X X X X
Saturday morning was a busy time at the castle, as the aides and business associates of many of those attending the class arrived by floo and port key to brief their colleagues on matters back at the office, or palace, or wherever, and receive their input and orders.
Harry was anxious to be away from the castle when all the guests arrived, lest he be expected to get involved in matters that were not his to deal with. He needed a break. There was a group of students heading in to Hogsmeade for the day, but he'd not been there since the attack and had no intention of going there now. Ron was organizing a group for some flying, but frankly, the Quidditch pitch was still a shambles, and that did not appeal, either.
The only person whose plans were even remotely acceptable to Harry was Neville. He was going to tend to his plants quickly and then accompany several warriors from the Winter Lands back to their farms. While the circumstances of his original arrival at the Winter Lands was a bad memory, the prospect of helping the warriors recover their world was very appealing. Neville was going to assist in reclaiming the farms that had been abandoned and now needed to be readied for planting, and that was just the kind of diversion Harry was looking for.
Severus had been looking forward to some further brewing. After the excitement of evaluating the properties of the buds from the different sides of the rosa caedes, he had begun to make some interesting strides in his evening brewing in replicating some of the potions described in Silvius Ventus' notes. He was already coming to some conclusions of his own as to avenues of research that needed further exploration. However, when Harry mentioned his intent to join Neville on a jaunt to the Winter Lands, of all places, he had to revise his own plans. There was no way on earth he was allowing Harry to go back to the Winter Lands on his own like that.
"The Headmaster still has a supply of the butterbeer caps he'd made into portkeys when we thought he needed to rescue you last Christmas. I assume whoever is organizing this adventure has already secured an adequate supply?"
"Of course, Severus. You don't have to come, you know. Neville's good with his defensive spells. You've seen that in the class, haven't you? His gram's been working with him on that. Plus, we'll be with Ullen and Gennerd – they're the two Vikings who are over seven feet tall. And all their men. We'll be safe."
Severus offered a trademark sneer at that last comment. "Mr. Potter, somehow, no matter now safe the circumstances appear to be, you manage to attract danger. I'm taking no chances. I'm also going to look for some of the plants that grow wild up there. The soil of the Winter Lands is renowned for its magical properties, and the magical plants that grow there might be useful for potions."
Harry sneered, albeit with not quite the same effect, back at his bondmate. "Always the potions, eh? You'd probably accept an invitation to the gates of hell if you thought there'd be an interesting plant there."
Severus quirked his eyebrow at that, but let it pass. In his mind's eye, he saw himself and Pomona Sprout strolling through the rose maze at Briarwood Hall to collect a rose bush; Harry had no idea how close to reality he'd come with that observation, and he did not need to call it out. Instead, he handed the younger man his cloak and followed him out of the door from their rooms.
X X X X X X X X X X
A group of Viking warriors, two Hogwarts students and one Potions Professor arrived on a farm at the northern reaches of the Winter Lands a short while later. The spring air was still chilly this far north, although the days were growing long already. This farm was one of several spread out from the base of the mountains that Harry guessed were the home of the Black Wyrms. They stood in a compound of sorts, with a large house and several other buildings clustered inside a tall fence. Beyond the fence lay fields that were overgrown and wild now, as the land had been abandoned years ago because of relentless Dementor attacks. While there were Grendlings out there as well, the warriors were able to defend themselves physically from their attacks and would never have abandoned the farmland just because of Grendling attacks.
"Welcome, lads, to Skye Rock Hall" Ullen offered as he gestured around the compound. This was nowhere on the scale of Bifrost Hall, Harry's only other exposure to a Winter Lands habitat, but it clearly housed at least an extended family. Slowly women, children and more men were making their way from the various buildings to greet the new arrivals. Harry, Severus and Neville were all introduced to assorted wives, children, siblings and cousins, reflecting the almost tribal community that lived here.
As the group moved slowly toward the gates to the compound, Ullen hopped up on a large barrel propped near the gates to get the group organized. "Listen up, all. Young Longbottom here knows all about plants. He's going to be offering his suggestions as to how to recover land, and what plants will go best there now. We'll be doing what he suggests, so no arguments or discussion – just get to it. We've nothing to fear any longer from the cursed Dementors; we have Lord Potter and his bondmate, Lord Snape, to thank for that, but we do need to be mindful of Grendlings. Gennerd and his men will be keeping watch for us, and I and my men will be returning the favor when we move on to his farm after lunch. We listen to them, and if they tell us to move, we do what?"
Severus was puzzled by Ullen's comments, but the response to that last question clarified matters. A chorus of children's voices answered Ullen in a shout: "We move!" It was apparently a wild and dangerous place out there, if the heavily armed Viking warriors who were going to be standing guard were any indication. And it was accepted in this culture that the children joined their parents in working the farm, and they'd be going outside the gates with them. It was a chilling realization to Severus that children would be placed in danger like that, and no one thought anything of it.
So much for Harry's assurances that he was going to be safe here!
The ragtag group followed the Viking warriors under Gellen's command out of the compound into the fields. Neville had gotten some preliminary information about the farm from Ullen before this trip, and had already worked up some plans. When he saw the group grabbing shovels and rakes to start clearing the land using physical labor rather than magic, he gestured to Harry. His friend immediately recognized that he and Severus could get this done in almost no time using their magic. Harry took Severus by the arm and whispered "Severus, you and I can clear the land for them; it will take just minutes, and leave them more time to do the planting and such. Alright?"
While Severus had not joined this expedition to actually engage in farming, he realized the truth of Harry's statement, and nodded. The less time the spent outside the walls of the Skye Rock compound, the safer everyone would be. The group was asked to step back, and Harry and Severus needed just minutes to send their magic out to turn over the ground, mark out rows and make the land ready for planting. Neville organized the Vikings into work teams and walked with them across the now-plowed fields, assessing the land and the microclimates and determining which of the seeds and small plants he'd brought with him from Hogwarts were most suitable in each place. As he re-sized and dispensed seeds and plants, the groups made quick work of getting things into the ground.
The fields were restored to a productive farm before lunchtime. The children took a few minutes to play in the freedom of the open space before everyone went back into the safety of the walled compound.
Severus was silently thanking all the deities he could think of that most children were beyond this squealing and screetching by the time they got to Hogwarts, or he surely would have killed at least one student by now. However, as he stood surveying the scene unfolding in the fields, his eyes followed one particularly boisterous hell spawn who was bounding around the very northern edge of the newly-planted field. The boy was trampling around some shrubs that piqued Severus' curiosity. Growing wild in the land right beyond the field, in front of the forest that rimmed the bottom of the mountain that loomed overhead, he thought he saw a magical forsythia.
Despite his concerns that close proximity to this child would almost certainly lead to a bad headache from the accompanying noise, he walked over to inspect the plant whose bright yellow flowers had caught his attention. The child, quite awed by the man to whom his elders showed such respect, grew quiet as he approached, staring at Severus with wide eyes. In the way that children have, he followed along to see what caught Lord Snape's attention. It was almost as if Severus' own curiosity was immediately transferred to the tow-headed boy, and the two crouched down next to one of the shrubs.
These shrubs were indeed a magical form of forsythia. The flowers were the same glowing yellow color as were the flowers of the ubiquitous non-magical variety that grew freely in the muggle world, but Severus had read that these got their bright yellow color from a small burst of sunlight that resided within each flower. He'd never actually seen one of these himself; they required very magical soil and a very specific climate. Naturally, his mind was teeming with thoughts on how an ingredient like this might work in potions.
The young boy had seen this plant before, of course, as they grew freely at the base of the mountain, and provided a great source of fun for children in the spring evenings. He plucked a flower and squeezed it in his hand, to show Lord Snape the little burst of sunlight that emerged from the crushed flower. The burst lingered for a bit in his hand, atop the flower in which it had been imprisoned.
Severus was about to say something when his ears detected the sound of a twig breaking in the forest, not ten feet from where they crouched. When his eyes followed the sound, he found himself peering into glowing red eyes surrounded by thick black fur. Beneath the eyes was a wide mouth open to show yellowish long fangs.
Grendlings.
Simultaneously, Severus heard other twigs snapping along the edge of the forest. A quick sweep of his eyes confirmed that there were at least a dozen Grendlings spread through the forest, all watching him and the boy.
It always amazed Severus how the mind could function, surprisingly clearly, methodically and quickly, in moments of great fear and stress. That was a lesson hard-learned at the hands of the Dark Lord over the years, but it was certainly true today. In an instant, Severus assessed a variety of options. He was pretty sure that he could not out-run a pack of Grendlings, based on what he remembered of them when they fought at the capstone of the Well of Despair. Plus, he had to account for the boy. Carrying him would slow Severus further. He knew he could cast any number of spells rapidly, and had there been greater distance in which to work, he could easily battle his way back to Skye Rock Hall. He would have to deal with so many Grendlings, though, and they'd be on him in an instant, that he might not have time to cast spells against each. He pondered the prospect of casting a spell in an arc. He'd never actually tried that, but it seemed theoretically possible. Repulsion spells drew relatively modest amounts of magical power, so he felt he should be able to hold the spell for the seconds it took to move his arm in an arc that reached to all the places from which the Grendlings would be approaching.
That inner dialog took no more than two or three seconds, during which time Severus and the boy had remained motionless and crouched over the shrub. In one swift motion, Severus stood up, grabbed the boy by the upper arm and pulled him back, to be sure the boy stayed well clear of the spells he was about to cast and shield the boy from the Grendlings, should the spells not work. As he stood, he also reached for his wand and prepared to cast his spells.
Severus' movement was assessed by the Grendlings just as quickly as he'd worked through his own options. As the pack collected its energy to pounce on the two humans so tantalizingly close, the ground beneath the Grendlings started to move.
Two or three Grendlings simply disappeared where they stood. It looked like large black shadows had arisen from the ground and swallowed them whole. Those shadows were taking form now. The ground was roiling with large black snake-like bodies with wide mouths rimmed with razor-sharp teeth. The mouths were snapping at the Grendlings, and those too slow to react were caught and summarily swallowed; the other Grendlings scampered away in terror.
The sudden motion at the north end of the field had attracted the attention of the Gennerd and his men, but they had no sooner drawn their weapons and raced onto the field, prepared to attack the Grendlings, than the Grendlings were gone, replaced by Black Wyrms. The warriors knew that their weapons were no match for the Wyrms, but they were committed to protecting Severus and the boy. As the warriors were running across the field, swords drawn, a voice was heard over the din of the yelling warriors. "Stop. No one is to attack the Black Wyrms."
All heads turned to Harry, now running across the field to join Severus and the boy, as he cancelled the Sonorous spell he'd just placed on himself. He'd looked up from a conversation with Ullen just in time to see the Grendlings appear and then disappear into the maws of Black Wryms. His initial terror that something would happen to Severus and the boy out there with him was only starting to ebb when he realized that Gennerd's warriors were planning to attack the Wyrms, and he wanted to avert an attack on potential allies.
The Black Wyrms had apparently completed their mission, for as soon as the Grendlings were dispatched, the roiling and movement stopped and they assembled in an orderly half-circle line, with one of their number in the center. As Harry approached, the Wyrm in the center tested the air with its tongue, and then spoke.
"Young King, we welcome you again to the Winter Lands and to our home. We recognized your magical signature, and the signature of one who fought with you several months ago. The Beasts of the Dark Forest were menacing him and a young one from this nest. We did not wish harm to come to them."
The young boy's mouth fell open when he heard Harry speak in Parseltongue. "I thank you, Dragons, for saving my bondmate and the young boy."
There was a reaction to the reference to Severus as Harry's bondmate, as several of the Wyrms began nodding at each other.
"We are helping this nest reestablish their farms, now that the Shadows are gone and they can venture outside of their nests. Will this activity interfere with one of your nests?"
The leader spoke for the group. "We have many nests in this mountain, and none are bothered by the nests in this area beside the mountain."
"Are there Beasts from the Dark Forest all over this area?" Harry wanted to know. How dangerous was it for these Vikings to continue to maintain farmland here?
"They are everywhere in the Winter Lands, Young King. We usually stay on our mountain so we do not see them often. They never bother us, but they prey on every other creature here."
The Black Wyrm could feel the distress in Harry's magic when he understood the magnitude of the damage that the Beasts from the Dark Forest caused in the Winter Lands. Remembering the fearlessness with which the young King had led these warriors and others from his world to restore the capstone and seal the well from which the Shadows had come, he made a decision. "I cannot promise that there will always be a Dragon in this part of the Dark Forest, but I will instruct all Dragons to attack any Beast it finds too near to your nests."
The Wyrm was rewarded for his offer by gratitude now suffusing Harry's magic. Harry bowed formally as he expressed his thanks. The Wyrm led his group in bowing in unison before they turned and slithered just a short distance before disappearing into the forest floor.
Everyone had been standing still, awe tinged liberally with fear watching as the small dark-haired man stood before the looming Wyrms and apparently engaged in a conversation with them. When the Wyrms took their leave, it was as if a spell had broken, and everyone moved and spoke at once.
Severus was the first to reach Harry, who was standing just a step or two ahead of him. He wanted to assure himself that Harry was unharmed, first and foremost. For his part, Harry was equally concerned that no harm had come to Severus from this encounter. They broke from an initial hug to hold the other at arms length to check that all was well, and at the very moment that each took in a breath to begin scolding the other for the foolishness of putting himself in such a dangerous situation, Gennerd and his men joined them, followed moments later by Neville and Ullen. The words of protest and complaint on their lips were never spoken, although each made a mental note to broach this subject privately later.
Harry allowed himself to be surrounded by Gennerd's men, and spoke when they were comfortable that he was protected.
"The Black Wyrms bear you no ill will, Ullen. They recognized Severus' magical signature from the last time he was in the Winter Lands, and took action to protect him and the young man here from the Grendlings. They can't promise that they'll be in the forest all the time, but the elder Wyrm said he'd instruct the Dragons to attack any Grendling it finds menacing your farm."
Gennerd was cautious. "Those beasts are smart. Especially if they are driven back by magic, they tend to stay away from the place for several days. I doubt that they'll be back here for quite a while now, and if they are attacked here by Wyrms again, even just once or twice, they might abandon this part of the forest entirely."
"I don't know how far from their mountain the Black Wyrms typically travel, but their leader said that his Dragons would attack any Grendling it found menacing any human from the Winter Lands, if they came upon this," Harry volunteered. He was concerned that others might feel that Ullen had just been given an advantage at their expense, driving more Grendlings into the forest near other farms. The last thing he wanted to do was to create disharmony or mistrust among the warriors. His comment did seem to address an unspoken concern, for a certain hardness left Gennerd's features as he considered that.
Amid backslapping that hid enormous relief that serious danger had passed, Gennerd and Ullen began the process of shepherding the crowd of warriors, children and the others who had remained outside the compound gates after the planting was done back to the compound for lunch. Severus lingered for a minute, sidling over to Neville.
"Longbottom, do you think it would be possible to take one of those magical forsythia with us back to Hogwarts?"
X X X X X X X X X X
Back at Hogwarts, Petunia Dursley sat with Amaranth Savoy and her children at the lunch table. She'd finished her chores in the greenhouses, harvesting more of those blasted leaves for whatever use these people made of them. She was faced with a long afternoon, no television, no movie theaters, no telephone, no one to call even if she had a telephone. She was feeling glum and sorry for herself. While Amaranth's perpetually sunny disposition grated on her at times, the children were well-behaved and at least Amaranth made room for her at the table. It made her feel welcome in a small way.
As Petunia sullenly made her way through lunch, stabbing at the food with her scramasax, the table was invaded by that very pregnant, very red-headed woman Petunia had seen around the castle.
"Amaranth, my dear! Lovely to see you! It's been too long! Poppy told me that you were staying here with the children – oh, and aren't they adorable – and I've been hoping I'd catch up with you at some point." Amaranth stood to hug her friend and help her onto the bench to join them.
Before Amaranth could introduce her friend to Petunia, the woman was off again. "It's so exciting! I just got copies of the cards that will be going into the Chocolate Frog boxes." Judging from Amaranth's reaction, this was apparently a big deal, although Petunia had no idea what Chocolate Frog boxes were. The woman reached into a pocket of the multi-colored sweater that stretched around her belly and fished out a handful of cards that she spread on the table in front of her. Amaranth inspected them one by one, admiring the inevitably red-headed witch or wizard who appeared on each, and reading aloud the entry on the back of the card. While the entries varied, each contained a reference to the fact that the witch or wizard stood beside Harry Potter at some event. Petunia stifled any reaction to that name.
"You remember Charlie – he was just a year or two behind you here. He's made quite a career taming dragons in Romania." Petunia's head popped up at that – dragons? The red-head dug through the cards to find the one blond in the bunch. "This is Draco Malfoy, his mate." There was a time Petunia would have offered a very nasty observation about that, but somehow, it wasn't in her.
The red-head went through the stack, naming each of an apparently very large brood, fussing about their picture and giving an overview of what they were doing now, still at Hogwarts or otherwise, as Amaranth kept reading them. Mostly boys, although there was one girl in there about whom the woman was obviously very proud, and a brown-haired girl who seemed quite special to her, as well.
With misty eyes, the woman told her story. "They all stood with Harry Potter against the Elder Demon on the Quidditch Pitch, you know. Shoulder to shoulder with the boy. I was terrified, when I heard, of course, but bursting with pride. Harry and my youngest boy, Ron, have been friends since their first day here. We're all very fond of him."
The red-head suddenly seemed to take notice of Petunia, who'd been peeking at the cards, fascinated by the fact that they moved. She'd gotten used to the paintings and all, but had not had much exposure yet to wizard photography. Amaranth took this as her cue to do the introductions.
"Molly Weasley, I'd like you to meet Petunia Dursley, an aunt of a Hogwarts student who just learned that she has magic." As that introduction was made, one of Amaranth's children screamed his dissatisfaction with the cookie he'd been eating, and Petunia's surname was lost in the din. Molly smiled distractedly at the person she now only knew as "Petunia" and commented "The way you use the dagger, I'm shocked that you're new to magic! Why, I have a cousin who is rather fond of the old ways, likes to eat with a dagger, been doing it for years, and I swear, someone has to heal her mouth at least once a week from the nicks and cuts she gives herself." Petunia smiled thinly back at her.
Amaranth doggedly moved the conversation along. "So, Molly, when is the new addition going to arrive?"
"Oh, heavens, my mediwitch says the little one will be here in October, but this one's the eighth and the other seven all came early, so Poppy and I are not ruling out September, or maybe even late August." Petunia swallowed hard at that – she'd found it enormously draining and unpleasant to have to contend with two children (of course, one being that Potter brat, her situation was different) and could not imagine life with a family of seven of them.
Molly stood to leave, and Amaranth stood, too, to assist her off the bench. "I forgot how awkward this stage of pregnancy can be. Oh, well, it doesn't last long, and you get a wonderful little baby for the effort, so it's worth it. Amaranth, lovely to see you, and Petunia, nice to make your acquaintance." She waddled off.
Amaranth realized too late that Molly had left her Chocolate Frog cards behind. She commented to Petunia, "I'll bring these back to her later. She's staying on here at Hogwarts because all her children are either here or out on their own, and her husband works at the Ministry. This isn't a good time for her to be on her own too much."
Rather delicately, Petunia asked a question that had been on her mind since the woman sat down. "Isn't she a bit old to be having another child?" Amaranth laughed at the question, but not unkindly.
"In the wizarding world, women can easily remain fertile into their sixties or seventies, and you hear every once in a while about a witch having a child at eighty. Molly is still a rather young woman here. Wizards have longer life-spans than muggles, so it's not surprising that they can bear children for years longer."
Petunia shook her head at that news, and idly went back through the stack of cards whose subjects were moving and waving. She stopped for just a second at the picture of Harry Potter before moving on to the next in the pile.
X X X X X X X X X X
The sun was starting to dip below the trees in the forest outside the castle when Petunia finally got up her courage to pay a visit to the Infirmary. Her arrival there had been a very unpleasant event, and the time she spent there after fainting at the sight of a house elf was also a bad episode. However, she realized as she spoke to those two women at lunch that she'd not been here to see her own family since they arrived.
She avoided that fussy little woman in the starched white hat, and found a nurse who directed her to a large room where there were many beds placed side by side, with men, women and children all sleeping peacefully and soundly. Unlike the hospitals with which she was familiar, there were no machines blinking and beeping, just silence, broken now and then with a snore. There were no chairs for visitors, either, just long rows of beds.
Petunia walked along until she found Vernon and Dudley, two patients significantly broader than the others, snoring a bit more loudly than the others as well, as they slept side-by-side. She felt a flicker of jealously, that they were sleeping through this nightmare and not aware of where they were and how horrible this place was. But she also felt a flicker of some other emotion. They were missing out on something that was actually rather interesting, and at times, she'd felt sorry that they were not around so she could share experiences and observations with them. Especially Vernon. He could be counted upon to snort disapprovingly at anything strange or different, and there was no shortage of such things here. She smiled as she thought of all the things she'd have to tell him when he awoke.
At times, she felt she was losing some of her certainty about how awful these people were, and how wrong the world was to regard that awful Potter as its King. When people were nice or kind to her, or took care to include her, she felt herself wavering.
It would be good to have her Vernon back, to reinforce the world view she'd harbored for so long, to give her a firmer grounding in the reality of which she really was so sure.