Chapter 5, Perfect Defender
In spite of the fact that she was not at all a morning elf, Hagatha was more than willing to speak of defensive wards the next day at breakfast. Kreacher was still sleeping because he'd been up half the night rearranging all the spices in the kitchen while his parents slept. Eventually he ended up tipping over the spice rack in the wee hours, waking Hagatha and Balthazar. After that, it had taken them a few hours to get him back to bed and then to resume their own slumber. In spite of this Hagatha's sleepy look faded as soon as Orion asked her what she had in mind for defenses on #12 Grimmauld Place.
"Well when Balthazar said how he and Master Orion were exploring defensive wards, Hagatha wondered why they weren't being placed on the manor in case there is trouble around this Lord Voldemort and his doings. Hagatha would rest easier knowing that Kreacher is safe, as well as any future children we all shall have in the years to come."
Balthazar gave her an excited smile, clearly pleased by her interest. "Master Orion and Balthazar have actually been perfecting some fascinating wards. Balthazar had the idea to combine wizard and elf magic to see if the wards that such would produce are stronger, and as he suspected, they actually are!"
Walburga had no idea that the two had been working on anything along those lines. They had gone pheasant hunting a few times, but... but she supposed she had been too self absorbed to notice. Too focused on her need for a child or lack there of, or studying how Hagatha was handling Kreacher so that she would be prepared when she had her own little one, to notice.
"What has hunting to do with defensive magic," she asked.
"It is the other side of the coin, which means it is the same side," Balthazar said and Orion nodded sagely.
"When hunting, one might have to defend," Hagatha said thoughtfully.
"Exactly," Balthazar said, giving her a warm smile. "Of course not against pheasants, unless they are a particularly vicious breed."
Orion snickered. Before any further comment could be made, the sound of tiny pattering feet served as an interruption. An instant later,Kreacher came into view around the dining room door. "Kreacher is awake!" The little elf announced brightly, and just like that the conversation about defensive magic explorations was over until late that evening when Kreacher was asleep once again.
Orion and Walburga sat at the large stone table in the kitchen having after dinner glasses of wine while Hagatha put away the dishes and Balthazar tampered about with the large old stove, practically climbing inside of it to do so. Idly Walburga wondered if that was where Kreacher had gotten his ideas about climbing into pots.
"What ever are you doing, Balthazar," she asked, biting at her lower lip to contain a laugh. The elf looked so odd with more than half of his body leaning into the open oven as his hands rattled things about inside.
"Making it work better," he grunted.
"Do you want to try out those wards we were working on tonight," Orion asked him and Balthazar grunted again.
"May as well."
"The wards in question are some that Balthazar and I developed for placing on weapons for hunting, but as I told him earlier today while the two of you were busy with Kreacher, I think they would work just as well to defend a manor," Orion said, turning to Walburga and Hagatha. His gray eyes danced with an excitement that was contagious. Walburga smiled and Hagatha hurriedly hung the last shiny black pot above the fire, clearly impatient to be done with the kitchen for the night.
"Will Master Orion show us so that we may help," Hagatha asked.
Walburga nodded. "Yes. We would love to learn. Four are surely better than two for making a ward as strong as it can be."
"This is true," Orion agreed. And so Orion and Balthazar explained then demonstrated the combination of wards and hex runes they'd decided to weave into one powerful protection around the manor. Hagatha and Walburga, both having a thorough understanding of such defenses, mastered the combination quickly.
Hagatha had the idea of performing a linking charm so that their human and elf magic would flow even more effectively together. Once this was done, they were ready to begin. As the wards were to be placed on the outside of the manor, the four went outside to cast them. As it was quite dark, they were safe from the prying eyes of Muggles.
Walburga found that she quite enjoyed the nearly heady sensation of performing magic when linked to others, especially elves. It was almost like Apparating, but slower. As if one's magic were being tugged along down a stream that lifted one's emotions into a more exulted realm at the same time. The flash of light that she caught out of the corner of her right eye nearly went unnoticed, but as it was unexpected, she glanced over to see... at first she was not certain what she saw! Hagatha and Balthazar hand in hand surrounded in light or was it fire, then they were gone. There was only a bit of ash on the ground where they had stood. Only ash, but why? She blinked. What had happened? Where were they? The link was gone as well. The river like current of magic was no longer pulling her along. "Hagatha," she shouted.
She felt Orion's hand on her arm and turned to peer into his face. His wand and the lumos charm that was their only guide to direct the wards on the manor now reflected his face, drawn and white with shock. "Burga, they're... they're gone. We've killed them."
She shook her head. "We did not! And they're not gone, they're... just... they're..."
"No, I suppose we didn't, but something went wrong, Burga. They burned so fast!" Orion's voice broke and his breath began coming fast. He was crying but she was still shaking her head.
"Hagatha!" She shouted again. This time Orion did not bother telling her that the elves were gone. "Balthazar!This is not funny!" Walburga felt her voice breaking on the last word as panic began to well up in her throat. Far too often, Balthazar and Orion did enjoy what they found to be a good joke, while she and Hagatha rarely found their attempts truly funny. Though she deeply wanted this to be the case, something told her that this was not one of those times. Perhaps it was Orion's tears, she thought distantly. Yes, that must be it. Orion did not cry as a rule. He must have seen something that she missed. As these methodical thoughts began to filter through, she felt a numb shock beginning to grip her.
"You felt it go wrong then," she asked Orion shakily.
"I felt it go," he said. When she glanced in his direction once again, it was to find that his tears had dried. He stared in shock at the small bits of ash on the ground before turning to go inside.
"What are you doing," she demanded.
"Going to find a shovel," he answered curtly. "If that is all that is left of them, I shan't just leave it on the ground."
Those words, so final, and so broken tore a sob from Walburga. She waited with the remains of their friends while Orion took what felt like ages to find a shovel. When he came back out of the manor, she was shaking all over. As he dug a shallow grave for a few spots of ash, she watched. Her initial grief retreated and disbelieving shock cycled back to take its place. There was no way that could be Hagatha and Balthazar! There wasn't enough ash for it to be two bodies, even if elves were far smaller than wizards! When Orion finished he stood for a moment leaning on the shovel and staring blankly at the manor.
"Well," Walburga asked flatly.
Slowly Orion turned to her. She recognized the numb look in his eyes as it reflected the one in her own heart. "What," he asked dully.
"Did it work? Is our home warded now against harmful attacks?"
Orion nodded slowly."Actually it is. One would think that if it went wrong enough to kill two out of four of us, that the wards would have failed, but no. They are beautiful."
Walburga nodded. She could not see them precisely, but she did not know what she was looking for and Orion had mentioned earlier that they were to be hidden from detection. It was one of the bits he and Balthazar were most proud of.
"Good then," she said, her tone still flat. "It means that their deaths at least counted for something. Now I am going inside. If Kreacher wakes, he will be frightened." Kreacher! What in the nine hells were they going to tell that little boy when he asked for his parents? She paused with her hand on the heavy ornate brass knob of the front door to peer over her shoulder at Orion, who still stood leaning on the shovel. "I don't know how to tell Kreacher," she said. This quandary was forcing the shock to retreat as a lump of grief and panic rose in her throat.
Orion nodded. "That is going to be a tough one," he murmured. Sighing, he stepped away from the small grave and joined Walburga at the front door. Fortunately, Kreacher slept through the night. Walburga was there at his side when he woke in the early morning because she and Orion had not slept a wink. Instead they'd sat up in the kitchen hunched over rubbish cups of coffee that Walburga had tearfully made.
Tearfully because Hagatha would never again brew coffee for the four of them and Walburga knew hers would always be rubbish. All night she and Orion sat up talking, trying to sort exactly what had gone wrong to kill their elves. They came up with nothing. Orion even showed Walburga each aspect of each layer of each ward, picking them apart, deconstructing them in an attempt to understand how those particular combinations could harm anyone when they were set to protect. It wasn't until many decades later that Walburga finally discovered what had happened.
By that time, she was a ghost herself, picking apart new problems in an attempt to save Kreacher and his children from a new unknown evil. Only then did she realize that the wards had actually worked perfectly. The wards protected #12 Grimmauld Place just as they were intended to do. You see, when magic is given a task, magic does that task, often taking on a life of its own, fed by the will of the casters.
In this case, the magic took the command to protect literally, using the wards to take the energy necessary to do so. Hagatha and Balthazar's very magic was the best protection the ward could latch onto and it took and used it. This process killed the two elves in an instant, even using their physical forms to feed the protections, leaving nothing behind but small amounts of ash. The elves had fed the ward, intending to protect, but none of the four of them had even considered telling the magic not to take carte blanche. They told it to protect and did not think to set limits, and they paid for it in ways they never could've expected. As Kreacher did survive Voldemort a few times and remain protected, it had worked in the end, however, and Walburga knew even those long decades later that Hagatha and Balthazar would have considered this well worth it.
Knowing that Kreacher woke early, she left Orion and the table full of empty coffee cups to crouch silently by the little elf's bed as the sun began to rise. She wanted to be there when he woke, because the idea of him looking for his parents and not finding them broke her heart. She had no idea what she was going to tell him, but she planned to make it as gentle as possible. What could he even understand at the age of three anyway?
Hagatha, Balthazar and Kreacher had rooms just off the kitchen because Hagatha did not want Kreacher falling down the stairs. When Walburga had first been given the manor upon her wedding, she had insisted that Hagatha and Balthazar have a lavish bed chamber upstairs. Though Hagatha seemed to enjoy the luxury, she insisted upon giving it up once she became with child. As Walburga waited for Kreacher to wake, she stared around the neat quarters. Kreacher's room had his small bed and toy box while the next room over, separated from Kreacher's by a heavy curtain, held Hagatha and Balthazar's larger bed, a small wardrobe and several low wooden tables holding their personal belongings. These consisted of small stones as well as bits of wood that Balthazar had carved intricate rune like designs onto. It felt almost wrong staring at their belongings. Walburga knew that this was only because they would never be there to look at their things ever again. At that thought, her breath hitched in her chest and she very much wanted to start crying again, but she knew that she could not afford to. If Kreacher woke and saw her sobbing, it would only upset him.
"Mistress Walburga?" The little rough voice caused her to turn hastily to face the small bed where a sleepy Kreacher smiled sweetly up at her. "Mistress came to see Kreacher?
"Yes." Swooping down, Walburga caught him up in her arms and held him tightly against her chest. He was all there was. All that was left of Hagatha and Balthazar. "Sweet, sweet Kreacher. I have come to take care of you. Your parents... They had an accident, and they would like Orion and I to take care of you."
It was clear that Kreacher had not understood that an accident meant death, because he simply yawned as he rubbed with one hand at his eyes. "Kreacher likes," he murmured. "What do we have for breakfast, Kreacher wonders? Kreacher is hungry."
What ever were they going to eat? Walburga struggled again not to cry. "Walburga is not certain," she said carefully, then chuckled. She hadn't even considered how they would eat now.
"May Kreacher help," he asked eagerly. At her nod, he squirmed out of her arms and down to the floor, eagerly padding from the room.
"Kreacher," Walburga called, hurrying after him. "Whatever you do in that kitchen, you are never to use the stove without me present. I mean it! Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress," Kreacher called. "Kreacher promises!" He was clearly overjoyed to be allowed the full run of Hagatha's kitchen, a thing that was never allowed before.
