Chapter 12 : Baking Sweets and Secrets

Despite what Harry's schedule these last few months could suggest, working in the dead of night was not exactly encouraged aboard the Neptune Station. He even had to work with Hannah to establish strict resting hours to force the engineers to leave their labs and get some rest a couple weeks after its inauguration. Swansforth's arrival, however, had come at a time where their need for medical expertise was greater than ever.

Dean and Susan had performed admirably with what little training they had, taking care of every burns, cuts and other injuries sustained by the crew during training and lab accidents, but they had reached their limits. With the D.S.F. now fully engaged in the war, they now had to deal with severe injuries and curses on a daily basis, and it was fortunate that they had not lost anyone else before they had found Swansforth.

After recuperating from the Ministry's debacle, Harry had wasted no time before sending the combat team and any trained officer back to Britain. With their technology and the element of surprise, their first strikes on snatchers cells and suspected Death Eaters hideout had gone without a hitch. Far too soon for their taste, however, the Aurors had adapted and passed around the detection spell that had proved effective in the Ministry and to which they had yet to find a countermeasure. They came close to disaster a few times, and their raids now had to be more carefully planned, but it did not stop them from getting out there and fight.

They had already waited far too long because of him, and they would not back down until Voldemort and his ilk were wiped out of the face of the Earth.

Which is why, in spite of the late hours back in Britain, the infirmary of the station remained brightly lit and its newly appointed Chief Healer was hard at work rearranging his new domain when Harry stepped in. Most of the research and analysis equipment had been moved to adjacent rooms, leaving the largest almost empty for now.

"I see you've redecorated."

"Good evening Captain Potter. You really needed more space for beds and diagnostics." As Harry leaned stiffly against one of the few remaining counters, Swansforth put down the alien device he was inspecting. "I'll have a talk with Miss Brown and make a trip to Toke Trail tomorrow, but we should have this place up and running again by Tuesday."

"You know you can just call me Harry, right?"

Up until now, it had only been the crew that called him that, and with Fred and George being the oldest ... It felt weird to have someone more than ten years his senior call him "captain". Or, Merlin forbid, "admiral"...

"Alright. What can I do for you, Harry?"

"I wanted to check on Neville and Luna." The two of them had been injured the day before while extracting a muggle-born family from a snatcher raid. "I haven't had the time to see them yet."

"I'm afraid you missed them. Since they were on the mend, I sent them back to their quarters this afternoon so they can rest while we move things around here." Swansforth sent him a knowing look. "They'll be fine. Logbottom was a bit banged up, but they should be fully recovered by next week."

"Good." Harry could feel some of the tension leave him at his words. He knew he couldn't keep them hidden until the end of the war, but it did not make the idea of sending his friends to fight without him easier to bear. "I'll see them tomorrow then. In the meantime, I have a few things that I wanted to talk to you about. Are you settling in well?"

"It's been ... an experience. Don't get me wrong, Susan and Dean have been a great help and I'm thankful for the opportunity, but I'm still trying to wrap my head around..." Swansforth looked around, gesturing at the room. "All of this. And I've already treated more severe curses and injuries in my short time here than in my years at St Mungo's. You kids sure know how to keep a healer busy."

"Well, I'm happy you like it because we're in it for the long run." Tapping on his data-slate, Harry brought up a full page of runes on the screen. "Have you brushed up on your runes yet?"

"A bit. Ancient languages aren't really my forte."

"You might want to pick up the pace and check with Commander Johnson if you need any help then. I'll need you to start combing the ship's database as soon as possible."

Swansforth took the slate offered by Harry, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of the symbols on it.

"Searching for something in particular?"

"Three things. Though you should catalogue any medical information you come across." Harry gave a tap to the slate in Swansforth's trembling hand, bringing up another page of runes. "First, you'll have to find anything that can help victims of the Cruciatus curse." Harry looked at the healer knowingly. "We're facing it far too often for my taste these days"

Swansforth's mouth tightened into a thin line, the trembling of his hands abating slightly as he strained his grasp on the slate.

"After that, I want you to look for cures that could help against withering curses or high doses of magical venoms that prevent wounds from closing. Considering you'll need to train Dean and Susan in addition to your regular duties, this should keep you busy for a while."

"That's..." Swansforth took a deep breath, attempting to calm his hands. "That's quite outside my area of expertise. Though I guess there isn't exactly an expert in any of this alien stuff."

"No, there isn't. But that's why we're here."

"Still, I know things are tense with the Ministry and You-Know-Who, but what are you kids doing that need this kind of stuff as a priority?"

"Nothing special, really." Harry shrugged. "It's pretty standard fare around here. You'll get used to it."

"While we still don't know what killed the crew and stranded the ship, we found something I thought might interest you."

Parchments covered with runic translations carpeted the walls and tables, and one had to sidestep the towers of reference books if they wanted to get to the large console on the far wall. The latter was unlike any other wall in the ship, however, as instead of a smooth metal surface, clear cylindrical crystals were arrayed inside of it, protected by a force field similar to the other "windows" in the ship. In its centre was a large rounded screen, currently displaying a representation of the Milky Way where a silver line followed three of its outermost arms.

"That's ... Impressive?" Harry offered tactfully. "But we already had a map of the galaxy, so what am I looking at?"

"You're looking at Requirement's flight log." Zacharias supplied. "This line is the path she took while exploring the galaxy to scan planets and space anomalies."

"As far as we can tell, that's what most of the database is about." Michael said through a mouthful of muffin, the tray Harry had brought with him set on a pile of books before him, noticeably emptier than it had been a minute ago. "Number of planets in a star system, detailed analysis of the star, geological records ... All the good stuff. This ship was either a scout or a science vessel, designed to explore and study planets."

"So we already know what's out there, then?"

"Somewhat." Angelina replied, snatching one of the last muffins before it could disappear like its brothers. "Assuming things didn't change much in the last six thousand years, we estimate that we have data on half of the Outer, Perseus and Orion arms, including the parts the muggles haven't discovered yet."

While muggles had made tremendous progress in the past decades, wizards had spent thousands of years observing the stars with the help of magic to study their effects on potions and rituals. They had mapped the galaxy centuries ago, including the detached part of the Outer arm which had for now eluded the muggle astronomers.

"The arms ... right."

"Earth is roughly in the middle of the Orion arm."

"Right, of course."

"The records are massive, and we've barely begun to scratch the surface. There's something weird, though." Angelina scowled at the map, as if its very existence was a personal insult. "The ship has visited hundreds of thousands of star systems and found thousands of planets capable of supporting life as we know it."

"I'm guessing we're not talking about humans and cats."

"More like liquid water and carbon based organisms. Mostly plants. Like this one." Padma swept her fingers on her data slate in the direction of the screen, bringing up the rotating picture of a planet and far too many runes. "I've gone through a few of these already, and they all present roughly earth-like conditions. Another thing they have in common is this."

With a few more taps on her slate, the runic text disappeared, only to be replaced by six new symbols that Harry had never seen before.

"Every one of these planets is identified by a unique combination of these runes. We haven't been able to translate them yet, but my guess would be that it's a naming system of sorts."

"Alright. Make a list of the closest planets and send it to Cho. It's as good a place as any to start exploring once Hermione and her team are done."

"I know you want to investigate this, Padma, but that's not the point."

"Then what is it?" Harry frowned. "We have a destination now."

"There's too many of them." Angelina manipulated her own slate, bringing up the map of the galaxy again, but this time a small portion of it was covered by thousands of small dots. "The conditions for a planet to be able to support life as we know it are extremely precise and even the smallest deviation could condemn it to remain a barren wasteland. In a galaxy as big as the Milky Way, there shouldn't be this many of them. And we're only talking about a small part of it, so chances are that there are even more out there."

"There are too many needles in the haystack."

"Well probabilities or not, these planets are there." Harry shrugged. "Maybe we just didn't know enough about the galaxy to know that."

"That's not possible. Everything astrophysicists have been able to deduce was based on the observations of the stars from Earth. See, stars are so far apart from each-other that given the speed of light, it's like looking back in time to how they were thousands or tens of thousands of years ago. Now, that may seem long for us, but on a geological scale-"

"Urgh, you're taking forever." Zacharias whined, earning himself a disapproving look from his Commander. "In short, barren planets the muggles found became life-bearing in a few thousand years and they're not supposed to change that fast. So either astrophysicists have been wrong on everything this past century, or something—someone has been going around, transforming planets and seeding life across the galaxy."

That ... was quite the theory.

"Our aliens, maybe? The ones that built Requirement? With this level of technology, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Maybe. They could also have come to the same conclusion we did and dispatched the ship to investigate. We haven't found anything resembling a mission statement yet, so for now it's anyone's guess. What we did find, however..." Angelina turned the stone on the console, changing the map of the galaxy displayed on the screen for a larger one. "Is this."

"You ... found the zoom feature?"

"Not quite." She said with a dry smile. "This is another one entirely. And judging by what we could make of it, the one the aliens came from."

Bugger. As if they didn't have their hands full with the one planet already.

The rays of the suns had come out of hiding that Saturday, melting the snow and warming the halls while the students enjoyed some well deserved rest after a busy week. While news of the world outside the castle was sparse and grim, homework and friends remained a steady and comforting constant in their lives, allowing most of them to take their minds off it.

While a great many of them had taken the opportunity to enjoy the luxury of staying in bed for an extra hour, the early risers were already leaving the great hall, anxious to make the most of their day. Amongst the latter was a small group of Hufflepuffs who had seemingly decided to take the scenic route as they made their way up to the upper floors.

A group of friends laughing as they roamed the halls would have been a perfectly normal occurrence, if not for a single fact. At a glance, one could assume it would be because of their disastrous fashion sense, as every one of them wore colourful form-fitting suits under their robes, but that was not the case. While odd, others in the upper years had been taken in by this disastrous fashion for a year now, and they had long since stopped attracting questioning looks and snickers.

No, what truly stood out about them was not the group itself, but the dozen of Slytherins from all ages following them around as discreetly as a troupe of Erumpents in a wand shop.

Despite their complete lack of subtlety as they rushed from one corner to the next, they had somehow managed to tail the three unsuspecting teenagers, unseen by all but a few passersby and portraits.

Their ungraceful procession almost came to an end, however, when a second year tripped on his too-large robes as they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. His freckled face would have made the unfortunate acquaintance with the polished steps, if not for the massive hand of Gregory Goyle catching a fistfull of his robes and pulling him back.

"Watch your damned steps, Dixon." Hissed Daphne Greengrass a few steps ahead of them before turning her attention back to the leader of their troop. "I hate you, you know?"

"No you don't." Tracey Davis sing-songed, an easy smile on her lips as she confidently walked around the nearest corner. "Now come on, they're getting away."

With a groan, Daphne trailed after her, sending a look above her shoulder to make sure the others were still following.

"This would already be bad enough if it was just us. Why did we have to bring the little tykes?

"Oy!"

"Shut up, Mallow. I know you still sleep with an Hippogriff plush."

The fifth year's dark cheeks flushed and she looked away, a retort dying at the tip of her tongue.

"Because we need them." Tracey giggled softly. "And don't be so harsh on them. I still remember someone not being able to sleep because they misplaced their favourite blanket just last month."

"I ... you ... shut up! And what are we even doing, anyway?"

"You'll see. We're almost there, I think."

They turned another corner, only to discover a corridor without any obnoxiously happy Hufflepuff in sight, and a quick look beyond the intersection at the other end gave them no more signs of their passage.

"And now they're gone. Great."

"No, I'm sure they came through here. They can't have gone far."

"Just admit that we failed. Again."

What small amount of patience Daphne usually reserved for her friend's "brilliant" ideas had dried up three floors ago already, and as she looked around the deserted corridor, Daphne felt the last shred of friendly obligations that had pushed her to humour this farce disappear. Were they not in the presence of so many of their classmates, she would have had quite a few words of choice for Tracey before storming back to the common room to salvage what little remained of the morning.

"This has been a colossal waste of all of our time."

In the corner of her eye, she could see Millicent frowning, whether at her or at Tracey, she did not know, and Greg towering over the half-asleep housemates gathering around him, impassive as always. Sure, they had all worked together these last few months, be it by eavesdropping in the corridors or by unsuccessfully tailing the walking insults to fashion like those they had just lost, but nothing as over as this before. Most of them, including herself, would have continued to enjoy their blissful sleep if not for an unusually cheerful and confident Tracry dragging them all out of bed to go gallivanting around the castle.

"No, it's here. I'm sure of it."

"Look around!" Daphne gestured widely at the empty corridor, exasperated. "There's nothing here. That's not going to change because 'you're sure of it'!"

"Aaaaahw, little-sneaky-snakes are having a fight?" A juvenile voice echoed from one of the suits of armour lined up against the wall. "Without inviting me?" The metal glove of the suit came to rest against its heart. "I'm hurt!"

Some of the younger years stepped away from the armour as Greg pulled out his wand.

"Leave us alone Peeves, or I'll tell the Baron you've been going near the grey Lady again."

"No! Haven't-wouldn't-couldn't do that." The visor of the armour's helm fell with a clank, giving it a menacing look as it stepped off its pedestal to point at her. "And you better not tell tall tales if you don't want to find out what happens, to snitches out of the pitch!"

"Then get lost, you little—"

With the sound of the poltergeist blowing a raspberry, the suit of armour fell to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut and broke apart in a clatter of stone and metal. Peeves flew above their heads, throwing dungbombs at them before disappearing around the corner, laughing like a maniac all the way.

Trying to avoid the smelly parting gifts, the younger members of their group attempted to flee, but only managed to run into each other and fall to the floor in a mess of tangled robes and limbs, bringing down the others and a tapestry with them.

Seemingly unperturbed, Tracey stood amidst the chaos, her eyes following the feathered helm of the armour, fascinated by the way it rolled on the polished floor and passed right through the wall in front of her.

"Jackpot."

Her discovery fell into deaf ears, however, as the others were still trying to untangle themselves

Swearing as she pushed someone off her, Daphne took the hand Gregory offered her and pushed herself back up. She offered her thanks and he simply nodded before moving on to the next person.

Such a lack of manners would normally earn a few spiteful comments from her, but her lips stayed tightly closed. While he had never been the most cheerful or chivalrous boy, the last few months had been hard on him and he deserved the right to be a little curt.

Still, this whole affair was more than a little miffed, and she might have been slightly too forceful when she pulled up a third year by the shoulders. The swear-filled tirade that Daphne was about to begin, urging the others to pick themselves up, died in a yelp of surprise when Tracey's top half came out of the wall in front of them, that annoying grin larger than ever.

"This way guys! Felix found it!"

Not wasting a second, Greg was the first to gather himself and step right through the wall, as if it wasn't there. The assembled students exchanged doubtful looks, hesitating for a moment before following suit.

Left alone in the now deserted hallway, Daphne humphed a last time in annoyance, charming off the smell and muttering to herself before she walked through the wall.

"This is the last time I'm letting her drink that stuff."

Among the many communal spaces that had been set up on the station, one in particular saw very little use. The kitchen, despite being fully equipped with the latest in muggle and magical appliances, almost never housed visitors. Why bother cooking when you could have a full course meal served just right at the push of a button after all?

The answer, for Harry at least, was because he wanted to.

He had picked up the habit of coming down here twice a week to try his hand at baking a variety of sweets, muggle and magical alike. Cooking had been the one chore he wasn't allowed to do at the Dursleys. It would have given him access to their hard earned food and we couldn't have that now, could we? However, now that he was free of their home and wouldn't put one foot back there again if he had any say in it, he did not have to care about their rules.

He could cook.

And more importantly, he could bake. He could prepare anything and everything he'd ever wanted to try. All the cakes and sweets Dudley had gleefully gorged himself with while he had to watch with a grumbling stomach... Well, not anymore. Hermione had even gifted him a book of magical recipes at Christmas, after he'd mentioned his new interest to Ron and her one night in the ship's lounge.

Most weeks, unfortunately, more pressing matters emerged and changed his plans at the last minute, depriving him of these simple moments where he could forget about the war and just try to make something for himself for once.

Today was a special day, however, and he had made it clear that he did not wish to be disturbed under any circumstances.

Taking great care to keep his hands high above the plate, Harry sprinkled a mix of spices on what was quickly becoming his most terrifying and regretted creation yet. The idea had sounded great at first, Hagrid was sure to love the theme and look of the dragon-bite tart after all, and it would hopefully lift his spirit after Aragog's death and Graup's unwillingness to learn not to try to eat people. However, after two hours of delicate measuring and thoroughly bitten fingers, he just wasn't so sure the pain was worth it anymore.

Still, he had gone too far to stop now, so he held up his wand by the tip of his bandages fingers and sent the tart back to the oven with a flick, cursing the one who had decided to omit warnings in the cookbook.

With the oven programmed for the final baking, it was time to move on to the thankfully normal custard. Taking out the milk, cream and eggs, Harry wondered if he shouldn't add some gelatin to thicken it. Maybe once it had drowned in it, the tart would be less inclined to bite the hand off anyone who dared try to eat it. Then again, maybe Hagrid would prefer—

"Captain? We have a situation."

Merlin's saggy bollocks.