Dudley's Road Trip (Part 4)
Dudley walked back to the main house so as to be within earshot when lunch was called.
Harry was cooking today, which meant the mismatched twins were not, though they were twitchy in a way that made Dudley suspect that they didn't like being bored any more than Harry or Malcolm did. Luna stopped by to talk to them, all her clothes were on, but several laces were hanging loose, not done up. But that was definitely the same tattoo on the back of her neck. And that was definitely a hat, even if the fringe along the bottom did look just vaguely enough like hair to be confusing.
"There you are, Gwyn and Eirian," she said, "I, umm, noticed some discrepancies."
"What kind of discrepancies?"
"Food going missing," said Luna, "I think someone is getting hungry between meals or is embarrassed about how hungry they are at meals."
Gregory snorted.
"And you want help to catch them?" said the shorter twin.
Luna shook her head, "I don't want to know who it is, I want to know what else they are taking, so far it looks like mostly beef aspic and treacle tart are disappearing."
Super-blond angry girl perked up and turned to watch for a few seconds before forcing her eyes back to her book.
Except now her hand was completely across both pages, and she couldn't possibly be reading.
Dudley suppressed a snicker. Then thought to not stare directly at her.
"And what do you want us to do with that information?" said the taller twin as if Luna was known to be crazy, and it was everyone's job to be humouring her.
"I want you saving more of the beef bones and things to make extra aspic," said Luna, "So we don't run out despite the additional consumption, and I want you to be making extra treacle tart also, but more to the point, I want enough of it cut up as soon as it's cool and packaged in the perfect size for stealing, or maybe half that sized, so that if it is a small thief they can conveniently take two pieces and if it is a large thief they can take three. Figure out the same thing for the aspic, if you can, I can't or I'd make a suggestion."
The taller twin gave a serious nod. The smaller frowned, "you want to encourage the thief?"
"I want," said Luna, "that when Harry finds out that someone is starving in his house, he'll also believe that we've already been trying to help them all we can, and turn his anger outward, to getting to how they came to need help and working on that, not at any of us for not already helping with the part that we can help with."
Both twins nodded, and one shivered.
"Because Harry always figures things out eventually," said Luna.
Several additional people shivered. Luna shrugged and left.
People relaxed and went back to reading or chatting.
The angry super-blond narrowed her eyes and stalked from the room. Not in the direction Luna had gone.
Dudley wondered if she already knew who the 'thief' was, or just, had a suspicion. Hopefully whoever she was on her way to accuse wasn't going to take it the wrong way.
At any rate, Luna was definitely right about Harry having a background that could make starvation … a touchy topic around him.
.
After lunch, Padma caught up to Dudley and told him to follow her. She led him to the front yard. Gregory followed along.
"Are you ready?" she said.
"Ready for what?" said Dudley.
"A demonstration of what I learned about the animagus transformation."
"Sure, go ahead," said Dudley.
She levelled her wand at him, cast something which seemed to vibrate the bean bag he seemed to be made of, and also to pull some of the sparkles out of his chest that the vibrating managed to shake loose.
When that finished she muttered something else and wrapped more light from her wand around the sparkles she'd extracted, then said a third thing and shoved the whole thing back at him. And the world went grey and unbearably heavy.
He fell down. After a few startled seconds for his balance to make sense again. He rolled to hands and feet. He raised himself off the ground with a grunt.
She said something, but it was distant and hard to … Was that even? … That was English. But he didn't seem very proficient in English just now.
Probably because he wasn't human right now.
He looked up at her.
She looked down at him.
"You've got to be the cutest ugly-old wild boar I've ever seen."
He thought about that until he could understand. He grunted.
Oh … he could smell. It was like … well it was like … like his nose had gained as much resolution as his eyes had lost.
That was probably fair, all things considered. But damn. Wow!
He could even smell which way Harry had gone since he was here last.
He wandered off in that direction.
"Wait, come back," called Padma.
He rounded on her.
They stared at each other.
She glared while she tried to figure out what she wanted to say.
While she thought. He sneaked around behind her, not that she seemed at all confused about where he was or wasn't in an open stretch of grass, but he pushed her with his shoulder just the same. She took several steps forwards. So he wandered where he wanted to wander, and she … figured out he wanted her to follow.
He found Harry still sitting at the table discussing cooking plans with Mrs. Potter.
"Get that out of my house!" said Mrs. Potter, "Where did it come from anyway?"
"It's Dudley," said Padma proudly.
"Mairthin," said Mrs. Potter, "Why? … and how?"
"He asked me to research it, so I did," said Padma.
"He looks dangerous enough," said Harry, with thoughtful respect.
"He looks comfortable," said spine-tattoo girl, and crouched to be on eye-level with Dudley. Her skull cap smelled like horsefeathers and glue. Come to think of it, it looked like feathers glued to a bit of felt.
"He's the biggest pig I've ever seen," said Vincent, "and I've seen a lot of pigs."
"He's not a pig," said Luna, "He's a boar. Aren't you, so big and mean and fast."
Dudley grunted in protest.
"Right, not mean, nice as could be, just misunderstood."
Dudley grunted again.
"Right, territorial and ambitious, the things chimpanzees had to learn from pigs in order to turn into humans. Very sage Mr. Dursley."
Harry started giggling.
Hurrrrrrumph, grunted Dudley.
Luna backed off half a step and in her haste sprawled on her bum. Then she turned to Harry, "He challenges you to a spar."
"He what?" Harry said.
"Outside!" said Luna and Mrs. Potter and someone else at the same time.
Harry raised an eyebrow, then turned to Dudley, "Is that a thing you want?"
Not with a lion, no thank you. Though I could probably take him, I might bleed out after. And anyway, I don't want to kill or anything. And anyway, just sparring might lead to bleeding out anyway.
Dudley shook his head. Then his whole body. Then he turned and went back outside.
Harry followed and then turned lion.
Dudley could tell the moment he did. When the sounds of shoe-steps turned to paw-pads and the porch dipped slightly as his weight multiplied by three.
When he got close Dudley dodged to the side and lay down.
If that didn't signal that he didn't want to fight, he wasn't sure what would.
Harry circled around behind him and lay against him, part over him.
Dudley picked up his head a little and looked around.
"Oh, my god, look at them,"
"Does anyone have a camera?"
"Of course I do, give me a minute."
Very shortly after there were three cameras and several photos were taken.
Dudley tried to glare wild and fierce for the cameras while also sitting comfortably and secure that his lion was available to take care of anything too dangerous for him to handle with his own tusks.
.
After a while, the novelty wore off and Padma turned him back.
"Well?" she said.
"Rather interesting," he said.
She raised an eyebrow, "that doesn't sound like soul-scarring or magical exhaustion. So I'm taking another data point that it really did find the correct animal to turn you into?"
"Fairly sure, yes," said Dudley.
She nodded, "So having had a taste, are you going to be reading everything you need to know to be able to do that by yourself?"
"Nah," said Dudley, "it was … kind of anticlimactic actually."
Her eyes went wide, "Really?"
Dudley shrugged, "can't really explain it, and I'm not saying that it was what I expected, just, maybe, … somehow, I sort of knew it all along."
"Sounds right," said Padma's sister.
Harry giggled.
"Or kind of, should have known," said Dudley, "except not, I … knew I was a pig, I just didn't realise I was such a majestic one."
Padma rolled her eyes, "that's one word for it."
"Good, Now you have something to live up to," said the arm-tattoo girl.
"Exactly," said Dudley.
"So weird," said Katherine.
"The word is slytherin," said Harry.
Half of them all turned and looked at Harry.
The other half turned and looked at Dudley.
And then a mixture of both groups grinned. Gregory and Theo were among them.
"Basically what I was trying to say," agreed the arm-tattoo girl.
.
For half an hour he was a minor celebrity, and then everyone wandered off.
Luna dragged him with her. Except it was less of a drag, and more of a lead, given their difference in sizes.
She and Vincent and the arm-tattoo girl returned to the forest and worked more on their costumes.
Dudley wasn't sure whether to be enticed or appalled that despite barely knowing them, and having forgotten one of their names, none of them was shy about stripping down in front of him to try on their skin-tight costumes.
And yes, somehow Vincent did fit inside of his costume even though it looked smaller than he was, by over 60% in places.
He was a creepy, pock-ridden beggar, barely clothed in tatters of cloth.
And the arm-tattoo girl was a sheave of grain, with a vine of bilberries twining up around it. Which wasn't how bilberries grew to Dudley's knowledge, though he supposed he only had limited exposure to the plants in the wild.
"Are all your bracelets and things going to be ready in time?" said Vincent.
"Coming along just fine, I think," she said, "How many pieces does Wheat need to divide up into?"
"How many do you have so far?" said Vincent.
"I think I can finish fourteen," she said, "If I have enough time, I might have to do some of them with twine though, I think the magnets are only going to be strong enough for arms and neck."
"Humph," said Theo, "that is something we should play with to make sure we know what to expect."
"Will there really be fourteen of us?" said Vincent.
"I'm not sure," said Theo, "I have no idea who all is coming, there have only been a few definite declines."
"Don't worry, Pansy," said Luna, "we can share pieces if we have to, that's kind of the point."
Arm tattoo girl chuckled, "I know, but still."
Pansy, I knew that. The girl with arm tattoos is named Pansy.
"I'm thinking about dying my hair," said Pansy.
"What colour," said Vincent.
"Wheat gold, or bilberry leaf green."
"Green," said Vincent.
"Gold," said Theo and Luna.
Pansy turned to Dudley, "How about you?"
"Weren't you going to wear bilberries in your hair already?" said Dudley.
Pansy turned to Luna.
"Yes," said Luna.
Pansy turned back to Dudley.
"Gold," said Dudley, "they'll set each other off better that way. If you tried to match the leaves, it would just prove how poorly greens match each other. Anyway, hair texture looks more like the texture of the wheat stalk bundle, than leaves."
"That's what I meant," said Theo.
"Sure," said Pansy.
"Do you want to change colour by potion or charm?" said Theo.
"Don't care," said Pansy, "I guess charm would be easier to do last minute."
"True," said Theo, "That doesn't preclude practising ahead of time to agree on a colour."
"Ah, Go ahead," said Pansy. They each tried, and Theo's colour change was ruled the best match and most complete. Then she pulled it back into the low ponytail that she'd been wearing the day before. … well every morning for sword lessons actually.
Luna sighed.
"Uh oh, what's up?" said Theo.
"I was kind of wanting to try to braid it into a cornucopia," said Luna.
Pansy stared at her, "have you ever braided, or even seen braided, a sheaf of wheat?"
"No," sighed Luna.
Pansy nodded, "maybe for Mabon?"
"Oh! Alright!" said Luna.
Pansy nodded and went back to binding her hair in another place.
Dudley glanced back and forth between Luna and Pansy, trying to imagine either of them with enough hair to braid to look like a cornucopia. Mostly he imagined traditional cornucopias filled with fruit, and balanced on someone's head, or slightly smaller cornucopias exactly the right size for Luna to wear instead of a skullcap, which would definitely make her look like half of a one-horned goat.
Somehow he imagined she wouldn't mind being compared to something so bizarre.
.
Watching Theo wiggle into his costume was almost as interesting as watching the other two.
Like Vincent, and unlike Pansy, Theo didn't insist on being naked before he put it on. And only stripped to his undershirt and the same kind of extra-long boxers that Harry wore.
The costume still seemed to have been made a little too tight.
Which somehow wasn't a problem that Vincent had had with his impossible costume.
Once he was in, Theo picked up a wooden practice sword that Dudley hadn't noticed before and proceeded to dance around for several seconds, checking his range of movement. He got out his wand and adjusted his costume in several places. And tried again.
"Alright," he said and put the sword away.
He looked down at himself, "I find myself completely without a plan for how to get it off again."
"You'll want to get it off fast," said Pansy.
"I remember that," said Theo.
"How about a switching spell?" said Luna.
They all looked at her.
She pointed to Theo's clothes folded up on a fallen log, and his pattern dummy.
"That should work," agreed Theo and proceeded to dress the dummy.
OK, this seemed like an important thing to know about magic…
When Theo finished dressing the dummy he drew his wand, and muttered something and … nothing happened.
"What's wrong?" said Pansy.
Theo held up his hand, for silence, then did the spell again.
This time he switched places with his dummy while his clothes and costume remained where they had been. And then the dummy fell down.
"My clothes are in two pieces, while my costume is in three," said Theo, "I and my moffet however, are both in one piece."
"Oh," said Pansy.
"Well done!" said Luna.
"Yes, well done," said Pansy.
"Do we want to work that into the play?" said Vincent.
"Nah," said Theo, "I'll just bring it a little closer when the time comes, to make the hike back shorter once I get back into my own clothes."
Vincent shrugged and they went back to fussing with Pansy's costume, and the makeup she wanted.
(And no, Luna refused to sew sprigs of wheat and bilberry directly to Pansy's neck and face. Though perhaps with sticking charms…)
.
"What?" Dudley sat up.
"Don't sleep out here," said Luna, "you'll wake up with millipedes in your hair,"
"Somehow I never expected you to say that," said Theo.
"If you're going to sleep outside, find a nice stretch of grass," said Luna.
"Or a hammock," said Pansy.
"Humph," said Dudley.
"Or go back to the manor, I'm sure there's plenty of perfectly serviceable beds."
"Good point," sighed Dudley.
Though the bed I picked out doesn't have a view of semi-nude girls trying to wiggle each other into and out of costumes that they built too tight for reasons I probably don't want to know.
"I guess I'll see you around after my nap."
He went up to the manor. On the way, he figured out that the comment about millipedes had been a reprimand, not a mere warning.
He brushed himself off, nothing else sticking to him seemed to be alive.
He took a quick shower regardless.
.
When he woke and went back downstairs he found the manor seemingly mostly deserted.
"Where is everyone?" he asked the first girl he met on the front porch.
"Last month, a bunch of them turned to animals to run with the werewolves."
"Oh," said Dudley.
"There's been talk amongst the remainder, about joining in too."
"Oh," said Dudley.
"Are you planning on doing that?"
"I wasn't planning on it," said Dudley, "But if it's the only interesting thing to do all evening, I suppose I ought to make arrangements,"
"It won't be the only thing to do, only about two-thirds of them can do that."
"Oh," said Dudley, "So … what else is scheduled?"
She shrugged, "I expect that there will be as many people in the library as usual, and I heard tell of an exploding snap tournament."
"What's that?"
"A card game with explosions," she said.
"Safety glasses?" said Dudley.
She laughed, "You'd get on well with my stepdad."
"Huh?"
"No, don't worry, it's perfectly safe."
.
Afterwards, he definitely wouldn't have rated the experience 'perfectly safe,' but neither did anyone lose an eye or a finger, so that was fine.
But he did sneeze out black snot later when he took yet another shower.
.
...-...
Dudley's Road Trip (Part 5): Harry's birthday
The next morning, Dudley ran the same circuit, but in the opposite direction, this time he caught up to Harry just before the third bridge.
"Happy birthday!"
"Good morning," said Harry.
They fell into step without much effort and ran together the rest of the way back.
"I didn't see you yesterday."
Harry shrugged.
"I ran the other direction," said Dudley.
"You say that like we just ran around the block."
Dudley shrugged.
"As we met on an unpaved path, and crossed several," said Harry, "I have no idea which 'blocks' you thought most logical to run around."
"I taught Wotcher my criteria for running trail routes and asked it to prioritise something for me, and tried out the one it said was best. Now I'm trying it again in the other direction.
Harry chuckled for a few seconds. Then grew quiet and stayed quiet for a while.
When Dudley glanced back to study his face, he decided Harry had gotten distracted consulting with Wotcher.
.
Most of Harry's presents were handmade and enchanted.
Dudley felt extremely outclassed by the time they got to his.
But when Harry opened it Theo gave him an awed look.
"But what is a 'play station'?" said Mrs. Potter.
"It's a game console," said Theo, "one of the best currently available." "What does that mean?" said Mrs. Potter.
"You attach it to a Telly," explained Tracy, "so that you can play games, instead of just watching movies. Which is either much more interesting or much less, depending on your preferences for storyline vs. Interactivity."
"And we don't have a Telly," said Mrs. Potter.
"Yeah, sorry," said Dudley, "I didn't think."
"You can, um," said Tracy, and scratched her temple.
She had everyone's attention now.
"You can bring it over and borrow my Telly sometimes," said Tracy.
Harry nodded.
"What games?" said Theo.
Harry dug to the bottom of the box and pulled out Tekken, Reyman, and Twisted Metal.
Harry frowned at them each for a moment, then smirked, "Ah, One each of the required genres: a duelling game, a platformer, and a racing game."
"What's a platformer?"
Harry frowned, "It's … kind of … it's an exploring game that requires jumping and hunting."
"Are there games for hufflepuffs?" said Katherine.
Everyone looked at her.
"No," said Theo, "Hufflepuffs win at real life."
"We do like games," said Katherine.
"I didn't say you don't like games," said Theo, "I meant … you don't get so frustrated with real life not having a place for you to show off your talents, that you need to take a break to watch a play, or play a video or video game."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"Which is not to say," said Theo, "that stories whether in video or video game form, cannot be educational."
"So," said Harry, "should we invest in video games that can teach the rest of us the hufflepuff skills?"
"If you can find any," said Theo.
"Hmm," said Harry.
.
When the dancing became too boring, Dudley went outside. Melantha was already out there, sitting in one of the porch chairs, with a badger and a seal in her lap.
"Hello, Melantha," said Dudley, "Who are your friends?"
"Briant and Stormy."
Briant looked up at the sound of his name.
"Briant this is Dudley. Dudley, Briant."
"Is he a wizard?"
"No, plain badger." said Melantha, "Stormy is a kelpie, but likes to look like a seal when she sleeps."
"Ah," said Dudley and sat down in the nearest chair, "and the rest of the time?"
"Horse or human, except on full moons when she hangs out with the werewolves and actually exercises all night. For that, she'll wear whatever shape is most advantageous for her current activity."
"Sounds complicated," said Dudley, "Speaking of exercising all night, it seems like this is the first time I've ever seen you sitting down."
"Was given today and tomorrow off."
"For Harry's birthday and … Lamas?"
She shrugged, "Yes well, Ginny often gives me less work on the days she's going to be cooking. What's Lamas?"
"Celebration of first wheat harvest," said Dudley, "Basically the catholic version of Lughnasadh, the Irish pagan festival about the same thing."
She sat up and looked at him.
Briant jumped down and wandered to Dudley's ankle.
Dudley picked him up and set him in his lap, he sniffed around for a few seconds then lay down.
"He's had his shots," said Melantha.
"Ah, good," said Dudley.
"I'm not catholic," said Melantha.
"Neither am I," said Dudley, "I … think Harry's family is going to celebrate Lamas, and half his friend group is going to celebrate the other, with a few celebrating both or neither."
"And you?"
"I originally planned to leave this evening," said Dudley.
"Ah," she said and slumped back into her chair. "Hmm, 'originally'?"
Dudley shrugged, "I've had two people invite me to the other group's parties."
"Sounds like you're not wrong about also being an outsider," said Melantha.
"Or two someones want company visiting the other party," said Luna.
"Hello Luna," said Melantha.
"Hello Stormy, Hello Melantha, Hello Dudley, Hello Briant," said Luna.
"Am I invited to the Lamas gathering?" said Melantha.
"Of course," said Luna, "We'll visit a field and harvest about a pound of wheat each, then visit the mill in the east village and have them all ground up together, then the bakery and have them baked and back here for lunch to eat them," explained Luna, "Except … maybe we'll take some back to the mill to share around, and eat in town… I'm not sure, do you think two pounds each might be better?"
"It's always better to have extra to share?" suggested Dudley.
"True," said Luna, "I shall discuss it with Harry."
She wandered off.
"Well that's settled," said Dudley.
Melantha stared at him.
"Two pounds of wheat seeds is about two pints, two pounds of unmilled wheat heads is probably a lot."
"So?"
Dudley shrugged.
"Are you going to participate?" said Dudley.
"I think so," she said, "Did you mention what the pagan version looked like?"
"I think the agricultural part is the same, except also involving bilberries. I think the festival part will also involve a morality play put on by Theo, Vincent, Pansy, and … at least one other person. Except I'm not sure that they haven't lost all the morality about good farmers being patient, hard-working, ingenious, and lucky, and aren't going to just put on the adventure portion of the three-faced farmer god, Lugh, wresting the crops from the land and protecting them from the blight and bringing them home to share with his community."
"That sounds … really anti-naturalist."
"They tell me it's a Scot or Irish legend, and sneaking the seeds in early but not too early after the last frost, and harvesting the crops at the last possible moment before the storms set in and cause it to rot standing, is … less allegory and more fact of life, the farther north you go."
"Well sure," she said.
Dudley shrugged.
"And you think it's about what? work, luck, and cunning?"
Dudley nodded, "the three faced god."
She shrugged and looked up to watch people entering and leaving the house, then returned her focus to him.
"I kind of like what Theo hinted, about the three-faced god being that culture's ideal of 'the perfect farmer,' or whatever," said Dudley, "but I'm also appalled that Persephone is relegated to a passive role, in a play with three gods, it seems like she could at least have her name mentioned, and an active role. I'm not even sure I know what her Irish name is."
"She does have an active role," said Pansy and let the door slam, "but like blight, it is so obvious as to seem immaterial."
"What?" said Dudley.
"She feeds the people," said Pansy, "the farmer doesn't feed the people, nature does, the farmer only captures her from the field god, and delivers her safely to the townsfolk. But also the weather god doesn't rot the grain, nature does, that's why in some versions, Blight is also female."
"Hum," said Dudley.
Pansy picked up Briant and sat down.
Melantha glared.
"Um?" said Dudley, "Do I get a say about this?"
Pansy wiggled, "Hum, that was weird."
"What?" said Melantha.
"I could have sworn my chair cushion just talked."
Melantha chuckled.
"I still feel like I ought to have been consulted about this," said Dudley.
"You didn't seem to mind me earlier," said Pansy.
"When?" said Dudley.
"When Padma turned you into a pig and a dozen of us mimed taking a nap on you for photos."
"Ugh," said Dudley, "Wait, what kind of animal are you?"
She smirked and gave Briant back, then got up, down onto all fours, and became a dog with a forked tail. She barked and wagged at Dudley, successfully stressing out poor Briant. When she noticed the problem she changed back and carried him away into the grass until he'd calmed down. And also pooped.
Then she came back and re-occupied Dudley's lap.
"I should have stood up when I had the chance," said Dudley.
"Nah," said Pansy, "you love snuggles I can tell."
"How can you tell?" said Dudley.
"How hard you work to camouflage yourself as a pillow."
Melantha laughed.
"Humph," said Dudley.
"So Melantha Potter," said Pansy, "Have you been invited to watch us make fools of ourselves tomorrow evening?"
Melantha glanced at Dudley, "Yes, I do believe I was."
"Good," said Pansy, "Who by?"
"Dudley," said Melantha, "Or I think that's what he was working up to before you … suppressed and distracted him."
"Ah," said Pansy, slumping differently and laying her head back onto Dudley's shoulder, "Is that what we're calling this now?"
Melantha rolled her eyes.
"Anyway," said Pansy, "Dudley can't invite you. But I can invite you both. So there, you're both invited."
"Thanks, I think," said Melantha.
"Luna and Nim are coming," said Pansy, "I think that's everyone from the House of Potter who is likely to attend."
"Ah," said Melantha, "Just the flexible ones then?"
Pansy snickered, then climbed to her feet, elbowing Dudley in the ribs several more times than seemed strictly necessary.
"That was all, message delivered. I think I'll go try to steal Tracy from Daphne one more time before someone stops the music."
.
"I do not get that girl sometimes," said Melantha.
"That makes me feel better," said Dudley, "because I don't either."
"So, now do you know … what are you doing tomorrow?" said Melantha.
Dudley shrugged, "Do you?"
She shrugged.
"I came to spend time with Harry, I'm willing to expand that to his immediate friend group, I'm kind of put off by the idea of a trip into town. I can see how it matters to him if he's figurehead mayor here or something… but I'd kind of rather not."
She nodded, "and the play?"
Dudley shrugged, "As a muggle who isn't really supposed to be here, I kind of want to watch for the spite of it: some not-exactly-farmers, act out a play about a farmer god, that I think none of them believes in."
Melantha stared at him, "Are you a farmer?"
Dudley shook his head, "But I have gardened, and will garden again, maybe more vegetables and fewer flowers next year."
She nodded, "I'll go if you go with me."
Dudley blinked and looked away.
He stroked Briant, who seemed more bemused by, than appreciative of, the treatment.
"And in the morning, you can visit my house and meet all my animals," said Melantha.
Dudley looked up, "Yeah, I'd like that. But you might have to pick me up, I have no idea of the way."
She nodded, "I'll pick you up at the old cottage after breakfast."
"Alright," said Dudley.
.
...-...
Dudley's Road Trip (Part 6): Lamas day
(Content Warning: Blood libel spotted, and halfheartedly confronted, corrections appreciated.)
Dudley ran the same path as yesterday and the day before, this time choosing clockwise again. He bumped into neither Harry nor Padma nor Luna.
Melantha was waiting for him at the expected time and place. She transported him somewhere else with only an eye roll—no audible invocation of Wotcher or anything.
She had a lot of animals. Also two greenhouses.
Stormy stayed awake most of the morning. They washed three of the animals and tended to her plants.
Some of her plants Dudley could tell were magical in ways other than merely that they could move a little.
After a while, Dudley realised that Stormy was completely asleep now. Which made him yawn. Even though he wasn't tired.
He hadn't been properly tired since … whenever that was; though he would get exhausted sometimes, but that was different.
Oh.
"I'm going to miss Wotcher," said Dudley.
"What?" said Melantha.
"Keeps me awake, or comfortable enough to sleep, better than coffee," said Dudley.
"So take her with you," said Melantha.
"What? How?" said Dudley.
"How should I know," said Melantha, "Ask Harry, or ask Wotcher."
"Wotcher, is it possible to take you with me?"
[I am too big to move,]
"How big are you?"
[Eight times the size of your car. Twelve times more complex.]
"But you control a lot more land than that?"
[I monitor a lot more land than that.]
"Can I put you in charge of some more land somewhere?"
[Where?]
"Surrey?"
[A three-hour trip at an average speed of STATIC?]
"Huh?"
[Take two pieces of paper to the root cellar of the Old Cottage, and I will draw out the runes you need to engrave, to make ward stones for your land concession.]
"To give the land to Harry Potter?" said Dudley.
[Yes.]
"Does it matter if he's already claimed it?"
[Not much, he's given me permission to help him monitor his claims.]
"Alright, what do I do with those stones?"
[Engrave them with one of the diagrams and place them at the corners of the property. Engrave one with the other diagram and place that towards the centre of the others.]
Melantha gave him an odd little smile, "Seems like you've got something to keep you busy the rest of the week."
"I guess," said Dudley, "Do you know where the root cellar in question is?"
She wiggled her fingers at him, then shrugged and nodded.
She grabbed his arm and moved them to the backyard of the Old Cottage, then pointed to the door of the root cellar.
Its handles were chained shut.
She waved her finger at him again and disappeared.
It wasn't like it mattered anyway until he got his pieces of paper, right?
.
At the manor, when he asked for paper, everyone directed him to the library.
"Hello Dudley," Padma greeted when he walked in, "I suppose next you want an enchanted necklace or bracelet to do the animagus transformation, yes?"
Dudley felt his eyebrows climb most of the way up his forehead, "I had no idea that was possible."
She smirked, "Most people believe that it is not possible," then she frowned, "Which might only imply that it is not safe."
Dudley shrugged, "Alright whatever. I mean, yes I'd like one of those, but not if it's not safe. No, I came by for some paper. Everyone said if I want paper instead of parchment to come here."
She nodded, frowned, and took him to the back room where they rummaged around until they found an ancient photocopier and next to it a box of decades-old paper she expected to be yellow and crumbly, but it was still fresh and white, though perhaps a little stiff.
She read the box again, and whistled, "Someone had the sense of the long term, and of history, to shell out for low-acid paper.
"How much did you need?"
"Supposedly two pages," said Dudley.
She handed him five.
"Thanks," he said.
"I wonder," she said and plugged in the photocopier.
It made a loud whirring, and then lots of heavy angry thuds, clicks, and grinds, a heavy scraping noise. Then a quieter whirring noise and a shattering noise.
"Ah," she said, "Oh well." She unplugged it.
It stopped tearing itself apart.
She sighed again, "I wonder how much a new printer costs anyway."
Dudley shrugged. They picked their way out of the back room.
"Were you serious that an animagus necklace would be possible?" said Dudley.
"Probably," she said, "but it might take a couple of months to prove one way or the other."
"Oh," said Dudley.
If he was as rich as Harry seemed, the correct answer would have been, 'Bill me.' But he wasn't and he couldn't promise to pay anyone for a 'couple of months,' of work.
"It's an interesting puzzle," she murmured, which, given previous experience, meant: 'I might work on it until a more interesting puzzle comes up,' but also: 'Get out of my space, I have an interesting puzzle to consider where to read about.'
.
Once he got back to the old cottage, he took another look at the lock. He wasn't one to pick locks, (mostly because usually Pierce handled those sorts of things before anyone else had the chance to beg to borrow his picks.) But Dudley was more than capable of unscrewing a door handle, which would render the chain and padlock irrelevant.) But he found that he didn't need to do any of that, because the back door was unlocked and there was a stairway down into the basement.
The basement, not only smelled like cool damp earth but also it smelled like … like … Harry's shirt … and Susan's shirt and some other herbs, probably the shirts of the rest of his harem, not that Dudley had ever gotten close enough to the rest of them to recognise.
Then again, why wouldn't a root cellar next to a bunch of greenhouses that seemed to be devoted to herbs, not vegetables, not smell like herbs?
Whatever.
He explored to all corners until he found a tunnel that felt like walking into an absolute furnace of cool magic. That was an odd and disturbing (but not physically uncomfortable) sensation to force oneself to hike into.
He found that the effect was centred in a little cavern that seemed like a tiny piece of stone henge had been sliced off and grown from a cutting (as if architecture could actually grow that way). But the air was thick with a mist that was not seen but felt, not cool on his skin but sparkling against that inner-bean-bag-like sensation of what his insides were made of.
When he'd got through that, he found himself in a cosy, unnaturally dry room panelled with unfinished wood, and containing only a tiny little desk with two ink wells with a quill pen in each.
And a book, that turned its own pages every once in a while.
And one of the feather pens jotted things down from time to time.
"Wotcher? Am I in the right place?"
[Yes, put a page on the desk.]
Dudley obeyed. The page slid away to centre itself by the inkwell, and parallel to the edges of the desk.
After three seconds the same pen as before jumped out of its ink well, but this time it wrote on Dudley's page.
It drew three designs, one circular, one square, and one … triangular spiral.
Each was made of half a thousand symbols. Then more lines to connect them together in several different ways. Until Dudley wasn't even sure where each diagram started and ended.
Finally, the pen returned to its ink well and was still.
[This is for the ward stones.]
"Alright."
[Take it, and give me your other page.]
"Alright."
He switched them.
The pen started again.
This design seemed much more … centralised.
[This is for me to look through and talk to the ward stones.]
"Alright."
[Take it and make only one of it.]
"No extra copies?"
[Any extra copies will need to be built around different names.]
"Oh. Alright. Thank you."
[Thank you.]
.
He took them back to Padma and Theo since they'd seemed interested in the project.
They listened, Theo looked them over carefully but said it would take him months to figure his way through how they worked.
Padma ran off copies of both. Apparently, she'd gotten the copier to work, (And that work room somewhat dusted and de-cluttered.)
Theo declined to carve them into stone. He said the runes were much too tiny and intricate for him to copy at his current skill level.
Padma scratched her temple for several seconds, then rolled her eyes and port-keyed away.
"What?" sighed Dudley.
"To understand Padma," said Theo, "You have to remember that her twin sister is a gryffindor."
"I have no idea what that means," said Dudley.
Theo snickered, "Never mind, she'll come back with an answer, or at least one seemingly obvious possibility ruled out, I wouldn't worry too much, what do you want to do in the meantime?"
"I have no idea," said Dudley.
Theo shrugged.
"How far apart are you planning on putting these anyway?"
"Dad's yard is a sixth acre."
"So less than 200 feet?"
"I guess, yeah."
"Hmm, I'd bet with plain raised ink printing like this, these are good for 200 meters," said Theo, "Might depend on the ink. You'd have to protect them from the elements, of course."
"What do you suggest?"
"Two pieces of glass, and melted wax around the edge? Or rubber."
"Hmm," said Dudley, "glaziers caulk?"
Theo shrugged.
Padma climbed down from the tree, "alright, the verdict is, etched onto copper plates. They will be finished late tomorrow morning. Are you staying that long, or shall we mail them to you?"
"How far apart can those get?" said Dudley.
"Several kilometres," said Theo.
"Is that what the rest of Wotcher is made out of?"
"No," said Padma, "Mostly limestone, marble, and obsidian, depending on the speed vs. The power required."
"And paper," said Dudley.
"And paper," said Padma, "But that part is for performing calculations, and remembering rules that might later need to be forgotten or edited."
Dudley thought about going home with, or without Wotcher's company.
"I think, I'll wait for them to be ready," said Dudley.
Theo gave him an odd grin.
Dudley turned back to Padma, "How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing," she said and stepped up onto the bottom rung of a stool to kiss his forehead, "Housewarming present from the House of Black."
"Aww," cooed Theo.
"Thanks," said Dudley, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Padma, "Thank you for helping me find my copier. Best birthday present ever."
"Oh," said Dudley.
"OK," she said, "Not really, but I didn't realise how much I was missing having one until I realised I had one and it didn't work."
"Oh, sure," said Dudley.
"Which was enough to attract my brother-in-law's attention," she wiggled her eyebrows, "and sometimes his mending charm is impossibly competent."
"What?"
"Usually technology breaks around too much magic," said Padma, "Not works better, I suspect cheating, somewhere."
"Isn't magic, generally cheating?"
Padma shook her head, "No, it's mostly just a technology based on a different elemental force than electricity."
"Really?" said Dudley.
"Shush," said Padma, "if you spread that around, it will mess up Theo's and my advantage over the rest of England."
"Really?" said Dudley.
Padma shrugged.
"Unless you also consider electricity to be cheating," said Theo, "in which case, yes, to all of the above."
"I guess that could make sense," said Dudley.
"Run along," said Padma, and gently took the rune diagram pages out of his hand.
"What?" he said.
"These tell how to make extra eyes and ears for Wotcher, yes?" said Padma.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Then they also contain the secrets of how to blind and deafen her," said Padma, "I'm going to keep them safely locked up."
"Oh," said Dudley.
"So you're staying until these are done, not another two weeks for Ginny's Birthday?"
Dudley shrugged, "When's her birthday?"
"August eleventh," said Padma.
Dudley opened his mouth, then closed it, finally he said, "I don't think it would be good for me to stay that long."
"Maybe Wotcher can give you a ride from wherever you're going?" said Theo.
Dudley's eyes widened, "good point."
"Mine was the twentieth," said Padma, "so you were only 11 days late with my present." She winked.
Not directly at Dudley.
"He's going to make Parvati jealous like that," said Theo. Padma seemed inclined to ignore him.
"You can't just retroactively assign inspirations to straighten up into birthday presents," Dudley defended.
"Yes, I can," smirked Padma, "What are you getting my sister, and can you get it to her closer to her birthday?"
"Humph," said Dudley, then shrugged, then stuck his nose in the air and held up his hand, "she'll have to share Ginny's present."
"Ooh," said Theo, "What will that be?"
"Why, My blessing to keep Harry, of course," drawled Dudley, "I already gave it to her."
Theo laughed.
Padma smiled so hard it forced her eyes partly closed. When she could talk again she said, "Luckily we're very close as sisters and share everything."
Theo went red.
Wait, did she just say that? Did Harry know or were they tricking him, being identical sisters…
Theo wandered away kind of fast.
"Does Harry know that?" whispered Dudley.
Padma smiled, "I dated him first, but we asked him to marry Parvati, and only give me a child, later, when I ask for it. If I ever ask for it."
Oh, like Susan, maybe? "Oh," said Dudley, "I … need to think about that."
"Not if you don't want to," said Padma, "at least, usually I can find more interesting things to think about."
"Well, yes," said Dudley, "I … meant—" The emotional economics, not the emotional voyeurism or whatever that's called. Not that I could convince her what I meant. So maybe I won't try to say it. "That I don't have words," finished Dudley, kind of lamely.
She shrugged.
.
Dudley spent the next part of his afternoon napping again. Then with the help of Wotcher, tracked down Melantha and invited her to go bilberry picking.
She even had baskets available for that sort of thing. And knew of several more thickets of them than he did.
At one thicket they ran into Freyazegen and her older brother Daniel. So they joined forces and kept picking.
Melantha was a lot more talkative, or at least differently talkative around Daniel. Gradually it dawned on Dudley that Melantha was Daniel's friend, not Freyazegen's. That was interesting.
.
"Well," said Melantha when they'd filled their last basket, "This is more than we can eat in a reasonable amount of time, how wide were you thinking to share them around?"
"I figured you were taking some of them back for your animals," said Dudley, "and I'd take some back to the manor."
She nodded, "Good, but we have five baskets."
"I was thinking we'd eat them instead of like popcorn watching our play," said Dudley, "Hum… that sounds wrong if they're planning to do a refreshment thing after as part of both the play and festival."
She nodded.
"And Freyazegen's family already seems provided for. Do werewolves eat berries?"
"When they're not in wolf form, yes," said Melantha, "that's a good idea."
She looked down at their haul.
"One big basket for Mum and my animals, A big and a little for the manor, two big baskets for the werewolves?"
"I guess," said Dudley.
She took a large and a small basket and held them out to him.
He took them. She picked up the next large basket and disappeared.
Fine.
"Wotcher, please put me close to the kitchen door of the manor."
Despite the unbearable static in his balance, the berries did stay in the baskets.
He took them inside.
"Mairthin! Dudley," said Mrs. Potter… Ginny.
"I think," said Dudley, "it's thematic to invoke Lugh today, instead."
She rolled her eyes.
"Anyway," he said, "I had help from Melantha, and these are her Mum's baskets. But the berries are for here. I was sort of thinking of one for the kitchen and one for the dining room, but … I was also thinking of one for after tea, and one for the Lughnasadh play, and I have no idea how many people will be where, so … I'll let someone else worry about it."
She nodded, "One for Tea and one for Supper sounds perfect, why don't you go put the first one in the dining room right now." She gently pulled on one. So he let go. And took the other one to the dining room.
Three of the four redhead young men immediately grabbed handfuls.
"In theory," whispered Dudley, "These are dessert."
"That sounds like an excellent theory," said one of the middle two, not slowing down the rate he was dropping them into his mouth.
"Have you had any?" said the oldest.
"Of course," said Dudley, "I had to verify that my memory was correct, about which colours to pick and which to leave for later."
"Ah," he said, he reached for the basket, then drew his hands back with a gasp, "Have these been dedicated to anyone unfortunate?"
"No," said Dudley, "I just finished picking them, the only thing special about them is that they weren't harvested until today, and these represent an appropriate share of the first I picked this year."
"Tisk, tisk, tisk," he said, "I must remember to send Lord Potter a howler."
"About what?" sighed Harry, wandering over.
"Why that this young and impressionable muggle," said the man, "has picked up an unconscionable grasp of the old ways. I don't know whether to complain that I expected better from a light house. Or that the next thing we know he might be trying to steal our magic."
"Percy?" said Harry, "your sarcasm … isn't appreciated."
"Can magic be stolen?" said Dudley.
"Depends on definitions," said Percy.
"Short answer: no," said Harry.
"Depends on definitions," said Percy.
"Is this one of those complicated contexts like Lughnasadh," said Dudley, "Where 'seize' is more correct than 'steal'?"
"And 'harvest' is more correct than both?" said Percy, "Yes, precisely."
"Magic can be harvested?" said Dudley.
"No," said Harry.
"Yes," said Percy, "what do you think potions even are?"
Harry's eyes went wide.
"Do I want to know how that could possibly apply?" said Harry.
Percy shuddered, "No, I suppose not."
"There's a cannibalistic version of potions?" said the youngest redhead.
"Oh, You're talking about necromancy," said one of the twins.
"Oh, that," said the youngest redhead, and shuddered, "Don't talk about things like that in the dining room."
"No, I was talking about subsumption," said Percy, "Which yes, is also not dining room conversation."
"Do I want to know?" said Dudley.
"It's ritual cannibalism of magic or life essence," said one of the twins.
"Or skills or memories," said the other twin.
"Technically," said Percy, "neither ritual nor artefacts are needed when the practitioner knows what the hell they are doing, and the donor is conscious, willing, and also knows what the hell they are doing."
Both twins chuckled as if he'd just admitted to something rather naughty.
Percy reddened but protested, "Certain life-sustaining cures are based on a very skilled donor helping an unconscious patient."
"How … common is any of that?" said Dudley.
"I don't think any of that is common knowledge," said Harry, "Or at least they haven't covered it in any of our textbooks, yet. Not that our defence textbooks have a great track record. And I'm not taking healing."
"It's highly illegal, also frowned upon to even teach any of the prerequisite techniques." said the smallest redhead, who granted was almost as big as Dudley.
"Until you've taken the healer acolyte oaths, yes," said Percy.
Dudley nodded, "And technically would it even be possible for muggles to do these things even if it were legal for them to learn."
"Why do you ask?" said Harry.
"Because," said Dudley, "I'm trying to determine whether the blood libel a minute ago was remotely plausible or just a very very poor joke."
"What's blood libel?" said Harry.
"Oi," said Dudley, "What kind of world history have you been learning for the last 5 years?"
"Umm?" said Harry, "We don't have time for that, what point were you getting to?"
"Blood libel is a conspiracy theory that the world's elite and/or Jews have a ritual to harvest something from other people's children to give them a longer life and/or mystical benefits of various kinds, usually the implication is: via blood magic."
"Oh," said Harry in disgust, "That."
Percy snorted, "Of course, budding dark lords the world over might stoop to such things if they weren't as a class too paranoid to let a practitioner near enough to them to be hunted and harvested.
"But trying to accuse Jews of anything like that is ridiculous. In my experience at least, and all the history I've read, they fairly universally tend to align against all human trafficking and usually against trade in beasts of near-human intelligence as well. I've even seen them sometimes catch on to subtle clues weeks or months before anyone else notices which way the political wind is blowing."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"I think in a more general form," said one of the twins, "I think paranoid muggles—
"and mages alike—" inserted the other twin.
"—have been accusing … each other of similar things since forever."
Right, of course a minority could be sensitive about a prejudice raised against them and act like raising the exact same prejudice against anyone else was merely a joke. Or like them telling that joke wasn't prejudice, but an accusation that the prejudice was in general illogical. Waiting for the moment when you defend yourself, then looking at you like, "Yes, very good, now do you see why I am also not guilty?"
But the twins were looking thoughtful, with furtive glances at Percy, as if … they just realised they'd just implied accusations about Percy being prejudiced … or paranoid. Hmm. But that might be politics … or jokes between them, nothing to do with the present discussion.
Dudley contemplated whether he knew the medieval timeline well enough to guess whether blood libel against Jews as a fad predated witch trials or post-dated them. He was fairly sure the progression was: Jews were talked up as master demonologists, mostly based on a fundamental disagreement between two religions about what demons even were, or maybe which class of critters the word 'demon' referred to. Then about … 13th century? The rumours changed to 'master sorcerers' in general. Finally of course snake oil salesmen everywhere started appropriating the Hebrew alphabet and Jewish pen names to sell amulets and fake magic books for fun and profit, and denouncing each other for doing the same, also of course accusations of trafficking with demons.
Which again left real Jews in the crossfire and got their homes and their normal, ordinary, not-magic-at-all-just-written-in-Hebrew books burned despite their owners having nothing to do with any of it.
He couldn't remember when exactly the witch trial fad fell, but the American colonies were already a thing by then, even if most of the trials happened in Europe, so definitely the cultural appropriation of Jewish mysticism as a design aesthetic to sell fake magic books had started before that.
So blood libel had definitely been an anti-Jew thing before it had been an anti-witch thing. But Harry had said that mages mostly didn't view themselves as a separate community until after the International Statute of Secrecy, though individual institutions could sometimes track their history back further. It might be interesting to find out whether all the fake-magic in those fake-Jewish books really was fake-magic, or if that was selection bias, because which books hadn't, and witch books had, been disappeared by real mages since the statute.
Did Hebrew letters even work for magic? … Harry said Latin letters didn't, or only for variables or something.
"Dudley!" said Melantha, "I wasn't expecting you to get lost that easily."
"I wasn't lost," said Dudley, "I was distracted."
"The Weasleys are like that," she agreed and dragged him out.
"I'm not sure whether to be embarrassed or proud," said someone behind him.
"About what?"
"He moves so fast. Henpecked already, and he's not even married yet."
"Humph," said Melantha, but as soon as they were outside, they disappeared, right back to the grove where they'd left their other two baskets.
"Sorry about making you wait," said Dudley.
"It's alright, sorry about embarrassing you in front of them."
"No, you're not," said Dudley, "and thank you for getting me out of there, it was getting weird, … and not a productive kind of interesting."
She nodded, picked up a basket, and jerked her chin for him to pick up the other.
Once he obeyed, she said, "Wotcher, take us to Pack Central."
.
When he could see again he was standing in the yard of a low duplex, in a row of low duplexes.
Melantha nodded him toward the leftward door.
He climbed onto the porch and knocked.
A woman came to the door, but Dudley didn't recognise her.
"May we speak to Fenrir and Hazar?" called Melantha from the yard.
The woman closed the door and disappeared.
"Get off the porch," hissed Melantha.
"Oh," said Dudley and returned to where she stood.
Two men exited a house several doors down and approached the house that they stood in front of.
A moment later several more men and a few women filed out of the house where they waited.
Finally, two men came out and down the steps.
Melantha stepped forward to Fenrir, and held out the basket, "Lamas blessings from the House of Potter."
They might have said something, but most of what passed between them seemed to be facial expressions.
She stepped back and nodded Dudley to the other man.
He stepped forward, and handed his basket over where indicated, "Lughnasadh blessings from the House of Potter."
He grunted and said, "Thank you."
"And when they're empty, I'd appreciate it if Melantha's Mum gets her baskets back," muttered Dudley.
He blinked and grinned, "Of course."
Dudley backed up to Melantha's side.
"Who's idea was this?" said Fenrir, then his eyes locked on Dudley.
Dudley just nodded.
"Why?"
"Festivals are meant to be Feasts," said Dudley, "Feasts are meant to be communist."
Fenrir grinned, "So they are." He passed the basket to one of the men behind him.
"And how much have you already taken to The Manor?"
"… 30% less than this," said Dudley.
Fenrir approached very close and placed a hand on Dudley's shoulder.
"You're alright," he said, and nodded, "your resemblances to your cousin are never quite where I expect them."
"Thank you," said Dudley.
Fenrir nodded, "Season's blessings, Dudley." He let go and turned away, "Summer's blessings, Melantha."
He climbed the steps and went inside. His people followed him.
"Who was the other man?" said Dudley.
"One of Ginny's servants is a werewolf, Hazar is her direct superior inside the pack."
"Oh."
"I'll see you after Tea," said Melantha, "Watcher, take us each home please."
Which left him alone by the side door of the manor.
.
Tea was excellent, somehow he ended up surrounded by redheads again.
This made him uncomfortable, because he wasn't OK with the blood libel jokes earlier, and he wasn't sure if he should say anything, half because Harry was planning to marry their sister and he didn't want to cause excessive drama where he was only a guest.
And also because he wasn't entirely certain whether as a powerful but once persecuted minority: Was it within their rights to mock the rhetoric that had once been levelled against them?
But it didn't feel right, because … they hadn't been the minority most victimised by that particular paranoia. In fact, mages might be the only minority capable of whatever the real technique was. These mages apparently knew better and thought it impossible that any of their number could possibly know how, (except Percy, who might be learning medical magic in a well-regulated environment). But that joke had felt religious or political, not … ok, maybe it had merely been intended as an in-joke at my expense, probably to … reprimand Harry for letting me be around and observing.
Maybe I don't need to say anything to counteract it, maybe the ideal counter is to just stay around and keep observing.
He managed to relax and listen to more of the conversations going on around him.
He gathered that several of the people here celebrated Lamas differently than several of the others, and just as obviously, Theo and Pansy had celebrated it less often than the others.
When they were actually allowed to eat, the redheaded twins commented on the food as: 'good as but very different than their mother's cooking.'
"I think," said Dudley, "That Harry and Ginny cooked together today."
"Oh?"
"I think this is Harry's idea of revenge for being kicked out of his kitchen on his cooking day yesterday, because it was his birthday, and everyone wanted him to take a holiday."
"What?" "Tastiest revenge ever."
"They take turns," the youngest of the four explained to the others, "Harry and Ginny alternate, then the Purcell twins on Sunday. Or something like that."
"Do I know the Purcell twins?" said Percy.
The youngest glared at him, "No, and I'm not explaining at a meal table."
"Not even a short version?"
"They … came with the house?" said the youngest, "Harry's going to send them to school for NEWTs in the fall."
"So seventeen?" said one of the twins.
"Nineteen I think," said the youngest.
"Oh!" said the other twin, "I remember them."
"I think that is a sufficient explanation, all things considering," said Percy.
The youngest nodded and went back to eating.
"Identical, until one became a werewolf," said the first twin.
Three nods.
"Of all the—" Percy shuddered, "that's pretty awful."
Dudley contemplated mentioning he'd met Hazar, then decided against it, they hadn't exactly spoken, so that didn't really count as 'meeting' and who knew if Hazar managed to be someone's direct superior by virtue of being the one to bite her. And Dudley couldn't imagine that there was a polite way to ask that.
.
...-...
{End chapter 4}