Schemes
Gilderoy Lockhart's
Vampires of the Mind
Chapter 1: Gratitude
I would start out this delve into the creatures that leech off our emotions, starting with the most harmless. Most of us commonly interact with House Elves without a second thought or knowledge of their history. Many other similar creatures around the world appear to have a desire for service, aiding in the care and daily lives of magical people or even providing services invisibly for muggles away from large population centers.
I haven't been able to find a reason for the bonding of house elves to whole family lines, though, in England, there are many such relationships and less bonded ones with Brownies and Urisks. With the latter two, a Brownie will often serve freely without instruction, and a Urisk will engage in actual conversation. Both serve with the expectation of being paid with processed dairy products.
House Elves have a history of being mistreated, and much of it stems from their binding to family lines. In the Americas, this has been linked to the idea of slavery and recently (1922), was made illegal. The elves there are subject to welfare checks and rented out to families on long-term leases rather than binding them. From what I've witnessed, this is also a bad idea.
One of the first recorded instances of house elf abuse I've researched was in an old Welsh royal family some five hundred years ago. They used their elf as a whipping boy. For those unaware of the custom, a whipping boy was a scapegoated substitute that would be beaten in place of a royal child. It was hoped that seeing someone abused in their place would teach a child empathy and keep them from being detrimentally harmed from being beaten themselves.
Amazingly enough, in this one case, they were successful. The elf also showed no signs of hostility toward the family either. The reason for this was the gratitude of the family. Elves and many similar species seem to feed on the gratitude of those they serve. Those that do not receive this payment will often become bitter and resentful, and in the cases of Brownies, Urisks, and other unbound servants, they will simply leave.
A resentful House Elf will begin to reply to a lack of gratitude by doing more work and trying harder to earn praise and thanks. This only leads to more resentment. A resentful elf will eventually start to perform less or seek the gratitude of others. They will attempt to work for other wizards in an attempt to gain new masters. Elves caught doing this are often given clothes or killed. No laws exist in England that punish the killing of one's personal elves.
Elves subsist on the gratitude of their masters. They will eat food from time to time, though they can survive long periods without it, living only off the magic and positive emotional feedback of their masters. Everyone knows about but doesn't talk about that one family that abuses their elves. First, their food begins to spoil, then the elf is designated to only perform cleaning, and others will be forbidden from even doing the laundry as they are looking for a way to free themselves.
The reason why I said the American method was a bad idea was that without the binding, an elf could not establish a strong connection over a long period. They will still get gratitude from those they serve and will experience less chance of a bad or abusive master. As a wizard, you could compare it to having two large delicious meals each day or eight very small bland meals. The American elves might be better fed, but I think they aren't as happy or fulfilled.
An elf will not steal your emotions and feelings, like a vampire would, though they will still feed on it. Gratitude is something that you can give freely to those who deserve it and can do it over and over while suffering no repercussions. A happy elf will enrich and strengthen your home, while an unhappy one will lead you to ruin.
Harry and Lyra made sure to verbally thank Opal the following day at all their meals and for her job cleaning Elmswood. It was all genuine gratitude, and she deserved it. They could see that she relished the praise, and they got small garnishes on their food, and the pillowcases on their beds were just a little straighter by lunchtime.
The evening after the wedding brought Harry, Lyra, Whispers, and Brandt to Black Manor. Brooke had not been there when they had woken up, and Brandt told them that she wouldn't even be known as Brooke the next time they saw her. Either they would see her as her real self and would have no idea or in another disguise with a new name. Though just as she told Gorman Strauss, they would make their relationship public at the summer solstice.
They had gathered at Black Manor to see the Patil family for the meeting that had been in the making since Dumbledore's birthday party related to Arcturus's mysterious carpet. Harry wasn't sure why they wanted him and Lyra there, but she would get to see one of her friends again before the beginning of the year, and he thought Padma was nice too.
Arcturus greeted them and spoke to them about their summers. He wanted to know all the details about the balbal attack and the sigbins from their perspectives. He praised them for the kills of the creatures and told them they would both be getting more specialized training for fighting magical creatures in the coming year.
When the Patils arrived, Brandt went to greet a man his age immediately before introducing him as Siddharth Patil, the older brother of the twin girls and the one who runs the flying carpet production while the parents were traveling.
As the other greetings were exchanged, Siddharth asked Brandt, "So, you're not selling my carpet back to me?"
"Not a chance," Brandt smiled. "I'll sell you the villa as I'm separating it from the carpet. I'm keeping the rug for a personal project."
"Lucky for me, that's my favorite part," he told Brandt. "I can stick it on another rug later."
Harry and Lyra had already seen the twins at the wedding, so they all just stood there and waited for directions on what to do from the adults holding the meeting. They watched as they had meaningless chitchat and seemed to dance around the purpose of the meeting until Arcturus started leading them out of the sitting room.
"The next room is kind of a trophy room," Arcturus explained. "It's a great collection of things the Blacks have acquired over the last millennia, including my favorite carpet."
The room was expansive, and small podiums dotted the room. On top of them were display cases, many of which were filled with gray smoke. The ones that they could see were filled with various treasures; crowns, jewelry, and other artifacts, though the one closest to the entrance drew their attention immediately as it contained a severed human arm, including the shoulder and part of a collar bone. Blood was dripping into a puddle endlessly below the severed area. A wand hung limply in the fingers made of black wood, and the handle resembled a silver snake with emeralds for eyes.
Lyra's eyes were glued to the case, which caused the others to give it a closer look as well.
"That's your father's," Arcturus told her. "I don't think he will be able to hurt you ever again, though I highly doubt he still lives." As she stared at it, he added, "You can't have it, and you can't destroy it. It's mine."
Harry knew he was showing off the arm to both put Lyra at ease and to frighten the Patils. Padma and Parvati looked thoroughly intimidated, with the Gryffindor girl also looking slightly disgusted.
Arcturus continued to lead them through trophies of extreme wealth and splendor to one side of the room, where the entire wall was covered in gray smoke. Motioning to the wall, he snapped his fingers, and the smoke faded away to reveal a luxurious rug covering the whole wall, like a tapestry.
The twins looked interested while their parents and older brother stared at it in shock. Slowly, Siddharth approached it, and after getting a nod from Arcturus, he reached out and touched it. He looked in close, caressed the fabric, and even smelled it. After nearly five minutes, he stepped back.
"This is an amazing reproduction; shame the magic has worn off."
Arcturus grinned as Kumar spoke with astonishment, "That's not a reproduction. That's THE Scheherazade." His wife nodded in silence.
"Impossible!" their son declared. "It was lost at sea in a pirate attack and never recovered."
Harry and Lyra already knew the Blacks used to be pirates, and that's how they must have acquired this carpet that the Patils were marveling over. Although her sister was still in the dark, Padma seemed to realize the importance of what they were looking at. Arcturus started walking towards the large bank of windows in the room where four pedestals stood apart from the others.
"Young Mr. Patil," Arcturus said as he walked, "You seem very well versed in the history of this carpet. Do you know the pirate's name who took the ship containing this treasure?"
He replied quickly, "The Sulaiman family always said it was a man named Alsayf al'Aswad."
Arcturus was standing next to one of the podiums when he asked, "And for those who don't speak Arabic?"
"The Black Scimitar," he replied.
Even before Arcturus snapped his fingers, Siddharth seemed to make the connection, and the smoke on the podium next to him cleared to show the gleaming black sword resting there.
The matriarch of the family spoke prominently for the first time, "That treasure is priceless. What's more, the Sulaimans have sworn a blood debt against whoever stole it so many generations ago. Why are you showing it to us?"
"Because it is not priceless. Everything has value. The entire flying carpet industry is controlled by so few families, with the secret to how they sustain flight being one of the most guarded secrets in the magical world. I want my family to be part of it."
The three adult Patils gathered together, and a sheet of purple magic surrounded them, completely isolating them from the rest of the room.
Parvati looked around and asked her sister, "What's so special about that carpet? Other than being bigger than Sid's rug, that is."
Her sister gaped in astonishment and, uncharacteristically for her, reached out and knocked on her sibling's head like a door, "Really? A Thousand and One Arabian Nights? The flying carpet from the tales of Scheherazade! Are you that dense?"
"Oh!" Parvati exclaimed. Then a moment later, her eyes widened even more, and said louder, "Oooohhhh." Turning to Lyra, "Why didn't you tell me your uncle had this?"
Lyra shrugged, "Because I didn't know and have no idea what it is."
Parvati looked at Harry, who also looked confused, "I have no idea either."
"I have a copy of the book. I'll put it on my shelf in Ravenclaw Tower," Padma told them.
"I have one, too," Parvati said fiercely. "She can read it in Gryffindor."
"After you clean up all the crayon scribbles and make-up stains from it, I'd bet," her sister argued back.
They looked like they were about to delve into further arguments but were saved by their parents and brother, dissolving the exclusion area they had established to continue the discussion. Harry wasn't entirely sure, but Siddharth looked a bit fearful of something.
"You obviously have a plan of what you want from this partnership. We would have you tell us," the father told Arcturus fiercely.
"Brandt is taking over the control of all Black family businesses once I die in two years. I want him to be the head of an expansion in your family business for England and the European continent after that."
Siddharth started to look even more worried at that statement but kept silent.
"And what of the ban on sales in those regions?" The mother replied curiously.
"My Steward recently helped push through legislation in our Wizengamot to allow for the special permitting of flying carpets to be automatic for all foreign dignitaries and diplomats."
Brandt raised an eyebrow in remembrance of Lord Black's insistence on getting that bill passed and the wining and dining of the Lords to get it done. The bill really didn't do anything, as all the diplomats who would want such a permit would easily have it done. The Patils seemed to share his thoughts on how useless such a bill would be but stopped short of saying so due to the knowing grin on Arcturus's face.
"I'm sure you've heard of the tournament happening in the following year at Hogwarts. There will be thousands of visiting students, teachers, their families, and supporting businesses. They are all being given a very low diplomatic status. Additionally, to give them equal standing, the same will be given to all Hogwarts students and their families."
The mother laughed, "And all foreigners will be able to purchase licensed carpets while in England. Carpets that they will be able to take back home, even to countries with a ban on sales, as they will have purchased them legally at the tournament through diplomatic means."
Brandt latched onto the idea and continued from her line of thought, "I had been told to get the legislation passed, but even I didn't make the connection between it and the visiting wizards of the tournament. Chances are, no one else will either. You have the opportunity to be the family that becomes the influence for the full legalization of England, the continent, and MACUSA. Even more so, with no one clued into the connection, you have the time to ramp up production over the next year to be able to supply enough for the demand that will skyrocket at the event."
Mr. Patil nodded sternly, "This is an incredible gift you are giving us, along with the Scheherazade. We will be able to demand a king's ransom from the Sulaimans for its return. However, you know that we are a family business. Your Steward is already betrothed, and Mr. Potter is not a Black. So how do you suggest the union of our lines?"
The Patil twins had completely different reactions. Parvati began eyeing Harry and Lyra with mixed curiosity. Padma started glaring daggers at her parents and digging her fingers into her hands.
Harry began to ask, "What do I have to do with this?"
Though he was halfway through as Arcturus let out a hearty chuckle, "I actually had not thought of that. I mainly prefer contracts with death curses on them, though is this something you must have?" Mr. Patil nodded.
Brandt questioned them, "Does it have to be immediate?" Mr. Patil shook his head. "My contract was a ten-generation, open-ended option between the Blacks and eleven other houses that stated that if any of the children of squibs were born with magic, they or their children would need to marry. I was lucky enough to be born into a generation with four possible matches and ended up finding a woman I love. We could do the same and hope that sometime in the next ten generations, two descendants from both families would fall in love and unite the family lines."
A quick word between the elder Patils before he replied, "That would be acceptable, though it would need to be five generations and public knowledge as soon as Brandt is announced as the head of the European office."
Siddhartha let out a huge sigh as the stress on his face fell away, "I was a bit afraid. I thought you were going to force me to surrender my name and yield primacy to your niece in marriage."
"What?" Lyra peeped.
Arcturus smirked, "That does sound like something I would do. You did look prepared for that possibility, so we could still do that. Lyra, do you want a pet?" He laughed and turned back to the Patils, who looked slightly outraged at his comment, "Just kidding, of course. Over the next year, I expect Brandt to be informed and taught about everything in the business. Over next summer, I want Lyra and Harry to visit your factory and learn the secret to making flying carpets after swearing the appropriate oaths. I know that the secret to the flight lies in the silk that is used; I just have no idea what animal it comes from. Both Harry and Lyra have an astounding connection to magical animals, and I'm sure their magic will benefit any industry with them as the source."
Both of them blushed and said their thanks to Lord Black.
"I have a question," Padma spoke up. "How are you going to explain where you got the Scheherazade? I'm sure the Sulaimans will demand to know how we got it."
That pulled the whole room into silence. Everyone glanced around to see if anyone had an idea, though even Arcturus seemed to be drawing a blank.
"The ship," Harry broke the silence. Looking at Brandt, "Take the ship we found and say you found it at the bottom of the ocean with this carpet on board. I don't want that thing anywhere near my home."
"Excellent suggestion, Mr. Potter," Arcturus praised him. To the Patils, "Due to the nature of Harry Potter being Harry Potter, he and my niece sank a boat belonging to a wizard criminal syndicate a few years ago. It can be raised and relocated closer to India, where we can stage the recovery of the carpet." He drew his wand and made a vague motion towards a few of the darkened podiums in the room, revealing more treasures. "These are a few other items that were liberated from the Sulaimans at the same time as the Scheherazade. It will help sell the authenticity of the discovery, though I expect them to be returned later or be heavily compensated."
The twins were pestering Harry and Lyra for details on sinking a ship of criminals before even attending Hogwarts while the adults discussed the finer details of the arrangement.
"It was men poaching the Hidden," Lyra explained to the two girls, gesturing to Whispers, who had been playing with a knife in the corner the whole time to cut mango slices into different shapes before eating them.
"But you didn't know any spells, right?" Parvati pushed.
"We knew some, plus we had help," Harry told them. "Three great protectors; a hoohoo, a lampong, and the Usurper that helped us kill the basilisk and is still under the school."
"That is so neat to speak to snakes," Padma told him. "We had to visit a parselmouth when we were younger after Sid was bitten by a magical snake. Our dad caught the snake and brought it to the man who spoke to it and eventually gave him its venom to brew a serum."
"I still haven't met another wizard parselmouth," Harry lamented. He didn't include The Giver as he got his speech from Harry or Tom Riddle, who had been less than a ghost. "It sounds like the one you met was negotiating with the snake. Magical snakes think highly of themselves; non-magical ones are much easier to make them submit."
"So there's an even bigger one under the school now? And you fought together to kill the basilisk that was petrifying people?" Parvati asked, interested in hearing the heroic tale.
"We can just show you," Lyra told her.
She ran over to where the adults were talking. They all looked interested in what she was saying, and a moment later, an elf popped in holding a pensive. Arcturus prodded the liquid inside with his wand, then plunged his face into the pool. Minutes later, he came back out.
"I just had to snip some of the more sensitive information," he explained.
The whole group gathered together and dropped in. This time, Whispers joined them, though he was very disoriented and seemed to just float around the memory, swimming through the air the whole time. Arcturus trimmed quite a bit as the memory started when Draco tried to throw the diary to Harry. The twins cheered as Whispers stabbed the basilisk in the eye. Lockhart's appearance was cut short as he simply walked into the room, distracting the basilisk and then getting eaten. As soon as Hermione broke through the door and the Usurper crowed to kill the basilisk, the memory ended.
The Patils were shocked into silence. Finally, the father said, "I am glad we are now allies. We will have our solicitors complete all the details and take our leave now. Come on, girls."
Parvati gave Lyra a hug and ran after her parents. Padma asked quickly to see the Usurper at school if it was safe. Harry told her he'd ask it when it was awake.
When they were gone, Brandt smiled, "Once again, the both of you were instrumental in our negotiations. For your thoughts to use the poachers' ship to a show of strength using the memories of the basilisk fight, it all went perfectly."
"Did they really think I would get married to their son?" Lyra asked.
"It's something that is done commonly in older families," Brandt explained. "Like my betrothal, though at least I had some choice in the matter."
"I like Brooke too," Harry commented.
"Don't get attached to that name; she won't be using it again," Brandt warned him with a smile.
"You really won't tell us who she is?" Lyra asked.
"No, and if you guess, I won't even admit it if you guess correctly."
Arcturus has been walking around the room and darkening all the podiums in the room, though the ones he had mentioned had belonged to the Sulaiman family were now filled with red smoke instead of black.
"Good job to all of you," he smiled when he got finished. "Let me know if there is anything you'd like as a thank you for your help with this."
Harry just shrugged, but his sister seemed to think for a moment before replying, "You asked me if I wanted a pet. I would like one."
Arcturus chuckled as he had asked if she wanted Siddharth as her pet before.
"Brandt, take her to get something before Harry meets with the Minister tomorrow."
Oh yeah, Harry had forgotten that was tomorrow.
Harry insisted on dressing like he was going to battle the next day. He wore a similar outfit to what he had for Dumbledore's party with the Usurper shed vest and an off-the-shoulder cape. However, the one he wore today had a shoulder pad from some kind of magical crab shell with a row of short spikes down the middle. Brandt also took the invisibility charm off his wand holster on his right hand so it could be seen he was carrying and strapped his knife on the same hip. Brandt gave him a permanent version of the stag-head belt buckle he had transfigured before and a pair of silver buckled boots that went up to his knees. His staff finished the battle gear, though he could keep it in his pouch.
Lyra ended up wearing just a nice set of blue robes, and Brandt almost stopped himself from complaining that she could have worn something that color for the wedding… almost.
Whispers wore a pair of black sunglasses.
Their first stop was the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. With school in three days, the last-minute stragglers were rushing around to finish their shopping. They saw Daria, Cedric, the Weasleys, and a few others, though no one had a minute to stop and talk. When they got to the menagerie, the owner took them on a tour of the available animals.
Whispers was growled and barked at by the Crups, so they passed on them. The lizards just lay around, and Harry couldn't talk to them, so they asked to see what else he had. The snakes were interesting, but none of them were magical, and Lyra didn't want something that just demanded food and insulted her in a language she couldn't understand most of the time. They lost Whispers at that point and spent ten minutes trying to find him, discovering him in a corner, cuddling a small kitten with silver hair slightly darker than his.
"Pure-bred kneezel he's got there," the shop owner explained. "She will live for nearly forty years if looked after and will be sharp as a tack, as kneazels are some of the smartest lower magical animals."
"Lower magical?" Harry asked.
"Mostly a term used by those in the trade," he explained. "There's no quantitative way to measure intelligence in magical creatures, though there are sometimes limits to what some creatures can and cannot do." He gestured to Whispers, "A demiguise might be able to paint a picture, even copy the face of someone they see; a kneazle will not. However, it will learn endless behaviors, remember hundreds of people, instinctively know who is trustworthy and who is suspicious, plus much more. Lower magical creatures live more on instinct, even if they are more intelligent than non-magical creatures. Higher magical creatures might sometimes be creative and learn things that don't stem from their base instincts."
The kitten was now asleep and purring in Whispers's arms. Lyra stated in no uncertain terms that they would be getting that one.
When Brandt asked her what she wanted to name him, Whispers replied while petting the sleeping animal, "Silveee."
He probably meant to say the color 'silver,' but the cat was named Silvy.
With the floo at the tea house working, they arrived shortly after buying the kitten for Lyra. She hadn't had much of an opportunity to hold the silver kneazle as Whispers had taken it upon himself to carry the animal around, even while it was in its new carrier. They were greeted outside of the floo by a woman in a gray dress.
"My name is Eugenia Fiddlewood," she introduced herself. "It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Potter, as well as your sister Miss Black…" she paused for a moment, looking at Whispers, "and your little brother, Sir Whispers of the Hidden Village. I am Minister Fudge's personal assistant."
Lyra looked back and forth between her and Brandt as Harry shook her hand. When she extended her hand to Lyra, she took it and asked quietly, "Are you Brooke?"
As she looked confused, Brandt choked and gave a small laugh.
"What?" the woman asked. "My name is Eugenia."
Lyra eyed her suspiciously all the same.
"She doesn't smile like her," Harry said quietly.
Brandt explained, "The kids are trying to figure out who my betrothed is after meeting her under polyjuice and a fake name. Is the minister here?"
"He is. We have instructed the press to wait outside until Mr. Potter approves a picture, and they have discussed what they need to discuss. Is there anything you need me to pass on before I bring you in?"
"I still don't like him," Lyra mumbled.
"That's fine," she told Lyra. "Follow me."
As they walked, Harry took out his staff with Lyra copying him. The main room of the tea house was cleared out, with one table in the center filled with small foods, desserts, and tea kettles. Minister Fudge jumped up when they entered. He was wearing a tailored green suit to match his hat. The tailoring didn't help much to suppress his round physique. He had a pleasant and expectant look on his face and a glint of gold in his eyes.
"Harry! Very good to see you again! I imagine we have quite a bit to discuss." He crossed the room and shook Harry's hand, clasping it with both hands. "It's very good to meet your sister as well," he added and reached out to shake her hand.
After clasping her hand for a moment, he released it quickly, "Your hands are quite warm, Miss Black. Are you feeling alright?"
"I don't like you," she growled.
He looked shocked but rallied himself quickly, "Well, that's why we are here today. Trying to fix relationships, right?" He paused until Harry nodded. He looked to Whispers holding the cat carrier, "The talking demiguise, Whispers. You are gaining your own legend too."
Hearing his name, Whispers looked at Fudge and, after a moment, pointed at his head and said, "Haaat."
"You like it?" he pulled it off his head, showing a small bald spot.
Drawing a very short wand, he tapped the top of it, and a second hat popped into existence which he handed to the smiling demiguise, who immediately put it on. Lyra seemed to relax for a bit as he had made Whispers happy.
"Good to see you as well, Steward Brandt," he addressed their guardian next
"It's actually Steward Black now," he said as he shook the minister's hand.
"Always good to have more Blacks, congratulations." He gestured to the children, "Come, sit."
Brandt steered Whispers to sit with him and the minister's assistant at another table. Harry had expected it, but Lyra looked uneasy without Brandt backing them up. It seemed like Fudge was aware of her discomfort and didn't immediately dive into why they were there. He asked them about their summers, favorite classes, and plans for the future. They each gave vague answers and tried to sound more like the children he imagined they must be. Even being on guard in such a way, Lyra was able to relax a bit and eat a few of the snacks in front of her.
When she was relaxed, Fudge decided to change subjects, "We'd better get down to the reason why we are here, or we will be talking about Hogwarts and magical creatures all day." Harry sat up straight to listen as Lyra mimicked him. "There are many unsavory people in our society, and I do my best to ensure they are held accountable for their actions. Your father, Miss Black, was a philanthropist. He gave considerably to noble causes, though from what your uncle tells me, it didn't stop him from wishing death on you and others simply because he couldn't admit he was wrong. Had I known he was so spiteful, he would have stayed in Azkaban much longer. The country is better without him."
Neither of them was expecting an admission of such magnitude. Despite the speech sounding very rehearsed, they couldn't tell if he was sincere or was simply using mind magic to appear so. Regardless, they both seemed to make a new appraisal of the minister and nodded to him to continue.
"Another unsavory element in our society also has ties to the two of you," he paused for a moment. Then gestured to Lyra, "Your cousin," then to Harry, "and your Godfather - Sirius Black. I was there when he was arrested for killing a wizard and thirteen muggles after betraying your parents, Mr. Potter. However, I was not made aware of what came next until you asked me to find out why he betrayed them."
"In the wake of the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the chaos in our courts, law enforcement, and the previous administration of the Ministry; Sirius Black fell through the cracks of the system and never received a trial. His even-more-insane cousin, Bellatrix Black, relished her trial, telling everyone her crimes and motivations and that she would wait in prison until her master returned. Obviously, that will never happen. Sirius Black was not given that opportunity until now."
Both children were shocked, though Harry managed to ask, "What are you going to do?"
"I have arranged for him to have his trial. Later this week, he will be transferred from the prison to the ministry. This won't be in the papers until then, so you will need to keep quiet about it. He has been informed of it and told the guards that he cannot wait to tell everyone about his story, and he will enjoy seeing the Ministry burned to the ground after his testimony. We will retrieve you from Hogwarts to attend the trial next weekend."
Harry's expression darkened. He would get to confront the man that had set him on the path to living with the Dursleys. The man who had betrayed his parents. The man who had poisoned people's minds to make them think his sister was also evil. As he stewed in his dark thoughts, Lyra reached over and flicked his ear.
"You're shaking the cups," she whispered, though loud enough so he could hear too.
Harry looked at the table as the ripples in his teacup subsided. The minister was also a little shocked.
"Looks like you are very anxious to see justice done," he said with a squeak.
"Yes, sir."
Fudge adjusted his jacket and sat up straighter, "Well, I look forward to you getting it. Now, what do you say we let the photographers in and talk about some happier things?"
Harry didn't want to, but the Minister had lived up to his end of the deal. He could see that the man was waiting for his agreement and fidgeting a bit as he did. Wanting him to stew for another few seconds, he shared a look with Lyra before turning back and giving the man a nod.
Two photographers and a reporter were let in as Fudge asked them again questions about their summers and favorite subjects at school, this time with witnesses. It felt very staged, though both of them worked hard on correctly blocking and channeling replacement emotions to ensure they did not look annoyed or bored. Whispers joined them for a few pictures, posing with the Minister in their matching hats.
Finally, after the tea had been drunk and the food had been eaten, the Minister shook hands all around and departed with his entourage. Once they were gone, Cynthia and Hannah came out of the kitchen.
"Hannah!" Harry ran over to hug her as she blushed scarlet.
As he released her to say hello to her mother, Whispers greeted her similarly, calling out, "Haaannnnaaaa!"
For the demiguise, she screamed a bit but returned the hug after a moment, "He's so big! He grew this much in less than three months?"
"Magic?" Lyra shrugged as she said her hellos, and they all went to sit down around the table the minister had just left.
As the tea started to get refilled, Brandt caught Lyra staring intensely at Cynthia.
"You get a free one," he told Lyra. "Cynthia is not Brooke. Nor is she any of the mothers of your friends."
After a questioning look from the two Abbots, Harry explained the situation with Brooke and Lyra's new quest of finding out her identity. It got a few giggles, but Lyra was not the least bit deterred from continuing her quest. As they continued to chat about their summers and the coming school year, they heard a tapping on the glass of the window where a raven wearing a silver bowtie was perched.
"That would be for me," Brandt told them.
With a swish of his wand, the window opened, and the bird flew over to him to pass a very small scroll. The bird flew away immediately as he unrolled the paper. After ten seconds of reading, the paper caught fire and burned into nothingness, leaving Brandt sitting there with an annoyed look on his face.
Seeing the questioning faces of those around him, he informed them, "I have a meeting that cannot be rescheduled for the night before the train to Hogwarts. It is likely to go through the next day as well." He looked at Lyra, "I will need to see if Miss Tonks can take time out of her job to chaperone the two of you."
"No, you don't," Cynthia jumped in. "They can stay with us, and we can take them to the train in the morning."
Hannah looked nervous and excited as Brandt seemed to be making up his mind. Harry and Lyra seemed enthused with the idea of spending the night at a friend's place. In the end, he agreed.
"Ok, though, I want to send one of our elves to look out for them. Not Opal," he told them. "Is that alright?" he asked Cynthia.
She nodded back.
Brandt brought Harry and Lyra to the Abbot family's residence two nights later. They exited the floo, pulling their school trunks behind them. Whispers came through on his own, holding Silvy's carrier, and started looking around as they greeted the family. Harry pulled out the stuffed unicorn he had gotten as a present and asked to see Roffle, the one that Hannah owned, and all the children ran off.
"So, it must be a very important meeting to drag you away from the children like this?" Gerald Abbot asked Brandt.
"You may not believe it, but I'm raising money to help Harry provide a loan to a dragon reserve to buy a Mongolian Iron-beak," Brandt informed them.
Both Abbots were dumbfounded by this, with Gerald replying, "That's more expensive than… than… I honestly have no idea how much that is. Harry has the assets to do that?"
"We are having to liquidy one," Brandt nodded, hiding the smile from the pun in his head behind an occlumency shield. "He expressed an interest in helping because the dragon in question is going to foster a newly hatched orphan of the same species."
"That does sound like something Harry would do," Cynthia smiled. "You had mentioned you would be leaving an elf with us?"
Brandt nodded and called, "Dexter?"
An elf popped in with dark gray skin, nearly black. He wore a tattered black pillowcase with a black rope for a belt. He gazed at Brandt for a moment without speaking.
"Dexter will watch after them and should stay completely unnoticed by anyone else. He might clean some cobwebs if he finds any but other than that, he will not do anything to disrupt the work of your elves."
They eyed the peculiar elf before giving him a nod. He returned the gesture in silence, then snapped his fingers and vanished. Brandt said his farewells and departed through the floo. He took two detours through other properties the Blacks owned before apparating to three random locations and finally to a spot on an empty hillside in Leeds. An elf popped in, handed him an old brass key, then vanished. Two seconds later, a portkey activated and pulled him away.
It was a short journey, so he was still somewhere in the UK, though where was a mystery. He was in a small room with a wooden door. Hanging on the back of the door was a hooded black cloak and a black mask that would cover his eyes. Putting them both on, he left the room to find three people in the same disguise waiting for him.
Two of them he knew were the proprietors of The Dapper Bazar from an insignia on their cloaks. The third one, he would recognize anywhere, in any disguise, even without feeling the resonance in the rings they both wore, and quickly crossed the room, embracing her with a deep and long kiss.
"Good to see you too," she told him after breaking the kiss to take a big breath.
"If the two of you are done," the disguised old man spoke up, "we are ready to begin and have a fully packed house."
The young woman snaked an arm around Brandt's waist and replied, "We've got a booth on the top floor," then pulled him away.
They arrived at a large hall with hundreds of other people milling around the room, all similarly disguised in black robes and masks, having food and drinks while socializing with those they must know out of their disguises. There were a few others bearing the mark from The Dapper Bazar serving the refreshments, though their faces were still covered. Brandt smiled. It was going to be a very full house. The far side had many staircases leading upwards into the wall. They slipped between the other guests, and the woman pulled Brandt to one of the staircases with the number 812 over the top. One short flight of stairs later, they arrived at a sturdy iron door that opened with a touch.
Inside was a small booth, richly upholstered, with two chairs near a railing with wine and cheese set up between them. Brandt walked over and looked out. They were inside a large tower, eight floors up. All around them on each tower floor were other booths, roughly forty to each floor. On the very bottom was a platform with an elaborate ritual circle made up of dozens of shapes, symbols, and runes in many languages. A small trench ran around the outside of it with glass jars and containers waiting to be filled with something. Brandt looked back at his companion, who started reaching for her hood to remove it.
"Not here," he said sharply. "Not even in the booth. There are certainly people watching who showed up, even through the privacy wards"
"Fine, but you owe me," she replied.
"More than a potion?" Brandt asked.
"More," she smiled with half her face.
A jingling bell was heard, and Brandt started to see movement in the booths around the tower. They were cloaked in darkness, so you couldn't see who was in them, only that people were there. When he could see movement in nearly all the booths, the lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the center of the ritual circle. From somewhere on the side, a beautiful woman with a dark tan and a black silk dress emerged. She wore no mask, cloak, or shoes and stood in the light.
"As you were all informed, you are here for the Re'em. However, there are two things you were not informed of. The first is that this beast is completely untraceable. It is not stolen from a reserve or hunted down in the wild. It comes from a private owner who keeps them for themself. No one will be looking for it or the parts from this sale."
There were many excited murmurs from the audience as she waited for them to absorb the good news.
"The second piece of information is the size of the beast. I'm sure some of you were wondering about using such a small ritual circle. The Re'em comes from a newly discovered subspecies, the size of a water buffalo. Do not be dismayed as it still retains the same monstrous strength as others of average size."
As she was speaking, another man with a shaved head and a white robe joined her on the platform.
The black-clad woman continued, "This man was a witness to the feats of strength it was tested for after capture. Feel free to examine his memories as he faces you."
The man in white stood rigid as he faced the side of the tower in front of him. His head seemed to shake for a minute slightly before he turned slightly to his left. This continued for a few minutes until he was facing in Brandt's direction.
The team that Brandt had sent to recover the re'em had done so during the daytime so they would not encounter the Lampong and be wiped of their memories upon return after being paid. He hadn't known what happened to the re'em after it was passed off to The Dapper Bazar. So when the man was facing his side of the tower, he drew his wand and cast, "Legilimens!"
The first thing he noticed was the ease at which he entered the man's mind. There were no shields and not even a trace of magic present. The Dapper couple was using a muggle as a memory recorder for the purpose of showing the feats of the re'em and probably other things as well.
His memory was somewhere in the English countryside where a hundred-foot-tall stone tower had been constructed, surrounded by three walls made of different colored stones and reinforced with different metal bracers. This muggle was standing on a hill above as he watched the re'em charge across the meadow and plow through all three walls before going straight through the tower and the walls on the other side as well. The large tower collapsed behind it. As he exited the muggle's mind, Brandt could imagine the people watching, salivating at the idea of the power of a full-sized creature concentrated into such a small package. He wasn't as nearly motivated as they were to acquire the parts of the beast, and he was metaphorically drooling himself.
As the muggle left the platform, the woman waved her wand, and the beast was brought in. It was suspended in the air a few feet above the ground by a harness attached to what looked like three dozen carnival balloons. Brandt smiled; he had seen this trick before.
A single balloon could lift a person if it had an extension and unbreakable charm on it. Filled with enough helium, and even if the physical size of the balloon was small, it would lift as if it were hundreds of regular balloons. The great size and strength of a re'em were useless if it couldn't reach the ground with its legs or touch anything with its horns.
As it hovered in place over the center of the ritual circle, the woman in black had retrieved a large, ceremonial sword that had a strange handle as long as the blade. Despite the imbalance, she handled it with ease. The animal seemed to struggle more, as if it knew what the blade was for.
She stood outside the circle and reached in with the blade. The whole room was silent as she drew the sword lightly across the neck of the beast, letting a few drops of blood fall. The moment the blood touched the ground, all of the markings on the ground emitted a bright glow and the harness with the balloons vanished. It had no time to run as the woman had already whipped the sword around and cleanly cut the head off in a single stroke.
Blood gushed out from the severed neck as the head thumped to the ground. The crimson liquid splashed against an invisible wall around the stone platform, the glow of the ritual growing greater as the blood coated all of the lines and began to pool into the trenches around it. After several minutes, as the blood flow slowed, a small hook was lowered from the ceiling which attached to the tail of the re'em and hoisted it into the air to drain anything left out of the carcass.
When nothing else remained, the light in the circle died down, and a large team of people in gray robes and masks flooded the ritual area and started rendering the beast into its parts. A few of them siphoned the blood into the many containers around the circle and then filled small vials with the blood, which was still glowing, from the larger containers.
Then came the bidding. The woman in black started with the vials of blood, casting a spell on them and announcing how much was in the container by weight and volume as well as the number of seconds after the kill the blood was expelled. The highest prices came from the first few seconds after the beheading, followed by a grouping hallway through the ritual. It was at the beginning of the halfway point that she removed two of the vials and set them aside.
Then came every other part of the animal. A large amount of the skin had already been cured into leather and other parts were auctioned off raw. The eyes, brain, tongue, intestines, bladder, and everything else was sold for extravagant prices. Brandt and his betrothed would occasionally light up their wands to bid on something, just to drive up a price and so they weren't the only booth not bidding. When it came for the horns, they were also set aside as many of the observers called out in protest. Their interruptions were ignored.
When all that remained was the tail, skeleton, and hooves; an elf appeared next to Brandt, and informed him, "The target has been reached."
Brandt smiled as the bidding continued with the bone marrow being extracted, and another two tiny vials being put to the side as well. Nearly an hour later, the last tail hair of the re'em had been sold, and the guests started to head out to collect their purchases. Brandt just smiled as he ordered more wine for the two of them and waited for everyone to leave. The woman next to him was a bit antsy and when that happened, she started getting a little handsy as well, so Brandt just locked the door and enjoyed the moment.
Nearly two hours later, there was a knock on their door and the two of them scrambled to get dressed below their masks. When the door was opened, the woman in black was standing there with the proprietors of The Dapper Bazar, though they were still wearing their masks.
The woman smiled and handed them a parchment, "These are all the sales for the evening. At the bottom you will find the fees for the use of The Tower and the staffing for the ritual. I heard you had a target you were aiming for tonight which we exceeded. Congratulations."
Brandt examined the sheet and smiled. He pulled a few pieces of paper from his pocket and passed the first to her, "I need the targeted amount transferred to the Romanian Dragon Reserve in care of Charles Weasley. Tell him it is coming from Harry Potter."
The woman looked shocked, "What?"
The cloaked man behind him whispered in her ear, "Just do it."
She regained her composure, "And the remainder?"
Brandt handed her two more pieces of paper, "Eighty percent converted into muggle currency and deposited into this account, the rest I want as 999.9 pure gold bars with no goblin magic into this vault with the Gnomes in Switzerland."
The woman continued to look confused at the requests but nodded all the same. She snapped her fingers and an elf appeared with an ornate chest.
"The items you asked to be set aside. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Brandt shook his head but his betrothed spoke up, "How much for five of your hairs? Purely for entertainment purposes." She smiled when she finished speaking, and added, "And the name of your tailor."
The dark haired woman looked shocked, then embarrassed, then stood up straight as if she had just been complimented.
"One hundred gallons each. Plus an oath that it is purely for entertainment and they will all be used within the next one year or destroyed."
Brandt rolled his eyes as he smiled at her swearing the oath. After he paid the woman and she left, the woman who ran The Dapper Bazar took off her mask, with her husband following suit.
"Well, that was a good night, you'll let us know when you're doing another?"
"Certainly, though hopefully the next one will be more sustainable," Brandt replied.
"What will you do with the horns?" the old man asked.
"I'm building something," Brandt replied with a dark undertone, getting a confused look from even his betrothed. "Hopefully none of you will ever need to see me use it."
On that note, Brandt took the package with the horns, blood, and marrow, then disapparated away with the young woman next to him.
Author's Note: I'm back in the flow of writing. When I started publishing, I had drafts written up until Chapter 13. There's very little time for writing with a baby around (which is why I seem to be publishing after her bedtime on Sunday nights). I didn't really have writer's block or anything; as the outline for the year is complete, just the actual writing needs to be done. I needed a brain reset, and thanks to an afternoon at the Barbary Coast, I got it. I got to see a magician while I was there, and while his tricks were lame, his showmanship was amazing, and it really put me in the mood to write about magic. Now I'm back to writing about an hour a day on my commute, and hopefully, I'll be putting out one chapter every two weeks. Happy Passover/Easter/Chocolate Bunny Massacre Day.