Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Bella Rising
Chapter 12 - Wanabees
The Beer Hall Putsch. On November 9th 1923, Adolf Hitler attempted to take over the German Government with force. Short version, a few Nazi’s were killed and when the shooting started the ex-corporal ran. He was a coward and a laughing stock.
Those who ignore the lessons of
history are, indeed, doomed to repeat them.
___ooo000ooo___
Gregory Goyle listened to Theodore Nott’s rant.
“Half bloods and mudbloods have taken over – they control the economy, they subvert pure blood ideals while diluting the very magical core of the wizarding world!
“Our fathers have been imprisoned, our homes and lands and riches have been taken from us. Our heritage has been ‘redistributed’ among the lesser races!”
Goyle, who had been living in one of the rooms of Notts London flat, nodded. His family wasn’t as well off as some, but he’d certainly not missed any meals until recently.
“We need to gather all the pure blood families together, band together for our mutual protection. To attack one of us will be to attack all of us and we will retaliate!”
A chime sounded and Goyle excused himself, he had a date with Millie Bulstrode that afternoon.
___ooo000ooo___
Morning found Remus and Bella huddled around a small boy, perhaps five years old, who whimpered in pain and fear.
The adults dressed and Bella conjured a small robe for the boy.
“What is your name, little one?”
“Odin, Miss, Odin Brearly.”
“Why were you in the forest Odin?” Remus asked kindly.
“Mummy and Daddy always told me to go into the forest when I started to hurt.”
“Do they live in Hogsmeade?” Bella prompted.
“Um hum, cept our house ain’t there no more.”
Remus rubbed his eyes, “Brearleys, Brearleys, didn’t they run the green grocers in Hogsmeade.”
Little Odin smiled and nodded.
Remus shook with controlled anger.
When he spoke his voice was low and dangerous. “Greyback. First that bastard turned their son, and then when they still wouldn’t support his dark lord he killed them.”
Bella nodded, “He always liked young blood – weren’t you a child when he bit you?”
The lycan nodded, “I had just turned eight.”
“How old are your Odin?”
“Five an a half.”
“Are you hungry?”
The little boy nodded.
“Lets go into the village and find
some breakfast.”
Bella transfigured their robes into the cassock for Remus and the pallum and infula for herself.
“Kin I have a robe like his?” the boy asked.
Bella smiled and waved her wand to make Odin’s robe a miniature version of Remus’s Druid vestment - right down to the hemp sandals on his feet. She smiled because they looked so cute walking together.
“Next full moon we will all transform together, son, and then it won’t hurt so much.” Remus said with a reassuring smile.
The littest werewolf looked hopefully at Remus and asked, “Are you me da now?”
___ooo000ooo___
Greg Goyle smiled at all the little sprogs running around Vincent’s old family home. The place looked better, cleaner? No, it looked brighter, in spite of the fact that there were three dozen lil’ nippers running pell-mell around the place. It was a boisterous, loud, happy place.
As Greg put his traveling cloak on a peg Millicent noticed a folded paper sticking out of the inside pocket.
“Whot’s this then?” she asked as she pulled out the pamphlet.
On the pamphlet was a caricature of a stupid looking non-magical couple (you could tell they were non-magical because they had “Non-magical” written across their bodies).
It read:
TAKE IT ALL BACK!
It’s time for the pureblood race to take its rightful place at the top of the wizarding world.
Mudbloods, halfbloods, half-breeds and even non-humans have taken over wizarding Britain, its time to take it back.
Support only pure bloods in the Wizengamont.
Patronize only full blood wizard establishments.
Support the Sons of the Serpent in their courageous effort to save Magical Britain from those who are trying to destroy it from within!
Millicent held the pamphlet in her fist and shook it at Gregory, “Whot’s this about now?”
“Ain’t nuthin’, Millie, just Theo and some of the mates, y’know?”
“You do know this is how the Dark Lord started doncha?”
“Theo aint done nuthin’ darkish, he’s just tryin’ ta get a gang up fer, y’know, protection is all.”
Millie snorted, “Well, give us a hand with this chicken wire then.”
Goyle liked working with his hands, and Millie liked it that he did – he was barely a wizard, but didn’t mind hard work and he was good with a hammer and saw. Best of all he was good with the kids, when ever the lil’ ones came around he always had a kind word for them and usually a treat or two, especially the ones that handed him his tools as he worked setting up chicken runs or nesting boxes.
When little Alicia got her favorite treat, a fresh chocolate frog with a Pythagoras card in it she squealed “Oh thank you Uncle Greg!” the former Slytherin enforcer was too choked up to speak.
Millie gathered him in a huge hug and said “You’re just a big softie aintcha?”
“Mebe,” he said as he resumed pounding a long thick post into the ground with his heavy headed mallet, “but anyone tries to hurt the sprogs will find out just how soft I ain’t!”
“You kin have em’ soon as Panz an I are done with em’!”
Goyle chuckled at that and went back to working chicken wire. He had tacked the wire in place and was unrolling the four foot wide spool as Millie steadied the post.
“It’s getting’ late Greg, you wanna stay for supper?”
He thought about spending more time with Millie and Pansy and the sprogs, then thought of his promise to try to go out with Theo and his mates.
He reasoned that he’d only promised to “try.”
“Um, I kinda told Theo I’d go out with him an the mates tonight. . .”
“Think Greg, if you go out with Nott you’ll just wake up in your own bed with a bellyful of cheap firewhiskey and a poundin’ in your head. If you stay you can have a decent meal, kip in a nice warm bed and not have a hangover in the morning.”
“Askin me to spend the night, are you, Millie?” he teased.
“Mebe.” She teased back.
Greg was so flummoxed he dropped the roll of metal mesh. He blushed and picked up the roll. He grimaced as he made his decision.
“I like it here Millie, I’d love to stay.”
“Just the night then?”
“As long as you need me around here.”
“That long?”
“Yep.”
___ooo000ooo___
Thodore Nott the Third looked impressive in his dark cloak. He had just served up the last of the firewhiskey from his grand mum’s cellar and was exhorting his gang.
“Tonight we strike a blow for pure blood rights!”
He had mapped out three targets, one in Hogsmeade and two in Diagon Alley. New businesses, recently opened by mudbloods. The uniform for the attacks was a simple dark cloak, obscuring hood in place, no need for masks.
___ooo000ooo___
Pampered Magical Pets was a new business in Diagon Alley that catered to familiars. They were careful to not directly complete with established businesses, like Eyelops Owl Emporium, but did a bang-up business selling products and offering services for cats, bats, frogs, newts, ravens, owls – you name it.
There were half a dozen familiars being boarded overnight. The three sleeping cats, two hedgehogs and one rat died when half a dozen reducto curses shattered the store front.
The hooded figures followed the explosive curses with incindios that gutted the structure, reducing the stock to ashes.
“Joe’s” was a diner at the other end of Diagon Alley that resembled a large silver trailer. The restaurant sold beans and toast, fish and chips, bangers and mash – y’know, muggle fare for those from non-magical families. The structure rose unsteadily from its foundations levitated by a dozen dark robed hooded figures, rotated at its zenith, and then allowed to drop.
The Play it Again shop in Hogsmeade was a consignment store that featured children’s clothing and toys. Wizard children outgrew their clothes at the same rate as muggles and Play it Again, or PiA as it was better known, had been a godsend to young couples just starting out with a baby or two. It received the same treatment as Pampered Magical Pets in the Alley.
No one came forward to take credit for the attacks but the pattern was obvious, and familiar. All three businesses were owned by muggleborns.
At the next session of the Wizengamont both sides of the legislature, in a rare show of solidarity, unanimously condemned these not-so-random attacks on the wizarding community and promised investigations and prosecutions to the full extent of the law.
Theo Nott stared at the Prophet article in utter disbelief.
“Don’t they know I’m doin’ it for them? Don’t they get it?”
___ooo000ooo___
“Damn!”
“What is it Panz?”
“It’s getting colder and we need more jumpers and jackets.”
“So? I’ll nip on down to PiA. . .” the look on Pansy’s face silenced Millicent. “What?”
“PiA got burned out last night!”
“No! Reckon it was an accident?”
“If it was it was catching.”
“What do you mean?”
“Joe’s and Pampered Pets in the Alley were hit too.”
“Oh Jeezus, not again!”
“Looks like.”
“Any idea who?”
“Not sure, the Dark Lord was put paid to.”
“An I say good riddance!”
“Maybe we can get “Mr. Evans” to look into it?”
“Can’t hurt.”
___ooo000ooo___
Harry looked over the Prophet as Kreature poured tea.
“Looks like someone’s been up to some mischief.”
He handed the front page over to Hermione.
“Three businesses, all owned and operated by muggle-borns.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, “if I had to guess, I’d say look for disenfranchised or disgruntled purebloods.”
“Or,” Harry offered, “It could be a group trying to get us to do just that.”
“Occam’s Razor.”
“What?”
Hermione put down her tea, “Occam’s Razor, The principle states that the explanation of any phenomenon should make as few assumptions as possible, eliminating those that make no difference in the observable predictions of the explanatory hypothesis.”
“In English, please?”
“The simplest explanation is usually the best.”
“Ah. So what do we do?”
“We, Harry? We are not aurors, and frankly I think we should let the ministry handle this one. I think it will be a good first test of the Shacklebolt administration.”
Harry nodded. “Could be good for Kingsley at that.” Changing the subject he asked, “want to come with me to Pansy’s this afternoon?”
“I can’t, Harry, I’m helping Ron and Neville with their entrance exams, you remember?”
“Oh yeah, Auror Academy. Neville too?”
Hermione nodded, then asked, “How about you? Didn’t you say you wanted to be an auror?”
Harry slumped in his seat.
“I dunno, maybe.”
Hermione got up and moved to stand behind him, messaging his shoulders. She knew better than anyone what Harry was going through. The war had taken so much from him, his godfather, his mentor, his fiancé. Family and friends.
“There’s no rush Harry, take your time. It’s not like you need the money or anything – you can be a philanthropist and build schools and libraries.”
“I could buy a quidditch team. . .”
“If you want, you could play professionally.” Hermione’s heart sank at the thought, most professional quidditch players had to be medically retired early in their careers – it was a deadly rough sport when played at the professional level.
“I could teach flying at Hogwarts. . .”
Hermione perked up, that would be the best of all possible worlds, Harry could stay at the only place he’d ever loved as a home.
“Or we could get married and raise a bunch of kids.”
“Can I get back to you on that Harry?” she asked, a single tear streaking down her cheek.
“Of course.”
___ooo000ooo___
Remus, Bella and Odin stepped out of the forbidden forest in the early morning light heading for the Three Broomsticks to have a spot of breakfast. As they had emerged from the trees on the far side of town their path took them past the Parkinson House. The chill made the air clear and smoke and steam rose from several chimneys in the old Crabbe manor. They saw two women carrying overlarge bags from town toward the house.
“Please, let us help” Remus said, startled at his bass profundo voice – the charm around his neck again.
“Oh thank you brother,” Pansy said, letting the Druid take a large sack of potatoes off her shoulder.
Millicent didn’t ask for any help, and politely declined the offer “It’s about the only exercise I get anymore – I was hoping Panz here would get a workout as well.”
“I did,” Pansy said, exasperatedly, “I carried three stone of potatoes half way up the road.”
“Well, I’d hate to deprive you of your workout routine. . .” Lupin said.
“That’s okay.”
Relieved of her burden Pansy saw the odd trio for the first time.
“Um, brother,” she asked, “Isn’t it odd for a Druid to be working so closely with a Daughter of Vesta, I mean, Druids are ascetic, but not celibate and the Good Sister here is. . .”
“Brother David and I work very well together, his devotions coincide with my own and it’s very reassuring to have him with me when I make my obeisance to the Goddess.
Millie looked down and saw Odin, in his miniature druid’s robe.
“And who is this wise little one?”
“I’m Odin, and these are my Mum and Da!”
An awkward silence followed until Bella said.
“Yes, Odin is our son. He was placed in our path by the Goddess and we pledged to care for him until such time that he will not need us anymore.”
Odin looked proudly up at his adoptive parents.
“Hey, it’s no different from us having three dozen sprogs between us!”
It was Bella and Remus’s turn to look awkwardly at their traveling companions.
Millie offered the explanation, “Pansy and I run the Parkinson house, it’s a home for kids in need. We had a run-in with Umbitch, um, I mean Umbridge from the Ministry and adopted the whole lot of them. So now we’re a family with two full-time Mums and three dozen hyperactive sprogs.
“Y’know, Brother David, Sister, um, Sister?”
“Bellanca.” Remus and Bella said simultaneously.
“Sister Bellanca,” Pansy gamely continued, we could use some more hands at the house and the kids would benefit from the any lessons you could offer them. . .”
“Chaplins in residence, so to speak?”
“Might get a little more help from the DoME, y’know the Department of Magical Education.”
The party of five arrived at the gate to Parkinson House and Remus helped with breakfast as Bella went to a dark room to “perform her devotions,” Actually she was taking a long morning’s nap. She might be a daywalker but the bright winter’s sun still drained her.
The Druid and the Vestal Virgin were given rooms that were divided by a common shower and WC. Odin insisted on sleeping with one or the other or both – which raised a few eyebrows.
Later that night, as tiny Odin slept at the foot of Bella’s bed she and Remus had a long overdue talk.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, my lady?”
“Afraid I’ll eat one of the sprogs?”
“Well. . .”
“Look, I have places to go that are just a floo call away, please don’t fear for the safety of these children.”
“I guess I just needed to hear you say that, my lady.”
“Remus, please call me Bella.”
“But you are my, um, lady, my lady.”
“Your mind is completely your own, Remus.”
He looked a bit sheepish, “it wasn’t last nigh, my, um Bella.”
“I didn’t enthrall you, Remus, that was just my natural wolf’s, ah, animal attraction.”
“It was wonderful, but I felt so guilty this morning.”
“It was the wolf, Remus, it wasn’t you. You didn’t throw me down and shag me rotten in the middle of the meadow; our other selves were just attracted to each other.”
“Perfectly natural.” He insisted.
“Perfectly.” She agreed.
“So,” he asked, “Will we be doing our “devotions” in the forest tonight. . .”
“Oh, absolutely.”
The Beer Hall Putsch. On November 9th 1923, Adolf Hitler attempted to take over the German Government with force. Short version, a few Nazi’s were killed and when the shooting started the ex-corporal ran. He was a coward and a laughing stock.
Those who ignore the lessons of
history are, indeed, doomed to repeat them.
___ooo000ooo___
Gregory Goyle listened to Theodore Nott’s rant.
“Half bloods and mudbloods have taken over – they control the economy, they subvert pure blood ideals while diluting the very magical core of the wizarding world!
“Our fathers have been imprisoned, our homes and lands and riches have been taken from us. Our heritage has been ‘redistributed’ among the lesser races!”
Goyle, who had been living in one of the rooms of Notts London flat, nodded. His family wasn’t as well off as some, but he’d certainly not missed any meals until recently.
“We need to gather all the pure blood families together, band together for our mutual protection. To attack one of us will be to attack all of us and we will retaliate!”
A chime sounded and Goyle excused himself, he had a date with Millie Bulstrode that afternoon.
___ooo000ooo___
Morning found Remus and Bella huddled around a small boy, perhaps five years old, who whimpered in pain and fear.
The adults dressed and Bella conjured a small robe for the boy.
“What is your name, little one?”
“Odin, Miss, Odin Brearly.”
“Why were you in the forest Odin?” Remus asked kindly.
“Mummy and Daddy always told me to go into the forest when I started to hurt.”
“Do they live in Hogsmeade?” Bella prompted.
“Um hum, cept our house ain’t there no more.”
Remus rubbed his eyes, “Brearleys, Brearleys, didn’t they run the green grocers in Hogsmeade.”
Little Odin smiled and nodded.
Remus shook with controlled anger.
When he spoke his voice was low and dangerous. “Greyback. First that bastard turned their son, and then when they still wouldn’t support his dark lord he killed them.”
Bella nodded, “He always liked young blood – weren’t you a child when he bit you?”
The lycan nodded, “I had just turned eight.”
“How old are your Odin?”
“Five an a half.”
“Are you hungry?”
The little boy nodded.
“Lets go into the village and find
some breakfast.”
Bella transfigured their robes into the cassock for Remus and the pallum and infula for herself.
“Kin I have a robe like his?” the boy asked.
Bella smiled and waved her wand to make Odin’s robe a miniature version of Remus’s Druid vestment - right down to the hemp sandals on his feet. She smiled because they looked so cute walking together.
“Next full moon we will all transform together, son, and then it won’t hurt so much.” Remus said with a reassuring smile.
The littest werewolf looked hopefully at Remus and asked, “Are you me da now?”
___ooo000ooo___
Greg Goyle smiled at all the little sprogs running around Vincent’s old family home. The place looked better, cleaner? No, it looked brighter, in spite of the fact that there were three dozen lil’ nippers running pell-mell around the place. It was a boisterous, loud, happy place.
As Greg put his traveling cloak on a peg Millicent noticed a folded paper sticking out of the inside pocket.
“Whot’s this then?” she asked as she pulled out the pamphlet.
On the pamphlet was a caricature of a stupid looking non-magical couple (you could tell they were non-magical because they had “Non-magical” written across their bodies).
It read:
TAKE IT ALL BACK!
It’s time for the pureblood race to take its rightful place at the top of the wizarding world.
Mudbloods, halfbloods, half-breeds and even non-humans have taken over wizarding Britain, its time to take it back.
Support only pure bloods in the Wizengamont.
Patronize only full blood wizard establishments.
Support the Sons of the Serpent in their courageous effort to save Magical Britain from those who are trying to destroy it from within!
Millicent held the pamphlet in her fist and shook it at Gregory, “Whot’s this about now?”
“Ain’t nuthin’, Millie, just Theo and some of the mates, y’know?”
“You do know this is how the Dark Lord started doncha?”
“Theo aint done nuthin’ darkish, he’s just tryin’ ta get a gang up fer, y’know, protection is all.”
Millie snorted, “Well, give us a hand with this chicken wire then.”
Goyle liked working with his hands, and Millie liked it that he did – he was barely a wizard, but didn’t mind hard work and he was good with a hammer and saw. Best of all he was good with the kids, when ever the lil’ ones came around he always had a kind word for them and usually a treat or two, especially the ones that handed him his tools as he worked setting up chicken runs or nesting boxes.
When little Alicia got her favorite treat, a fresh chocolate frog with a Pythagoras card in it she squealed “Oh thank you Uncle Greg!” the former Slytherin enforcer was too choked up to speak.
Millie gathered him in a huge hug and said “You’re just a big softie aintcha?”
“Mebe,” he said as he resumed pounding a long thick post into the ground with his heavy headed mallet, “but anyone tries to hurt the sprogs will find out just how soft I ain’t!”
“You kin have em’ soon as Panz an I are done with em’!”
Goyle chuckled at that and went back to working chicken wire. He had tacked the wire in place and was unrolling the four foot wide spool as Millie steadied the post.
“It’s getting’ late Greg, you wanna stay for supper?”
He thought about spending more time with Millie and Pansy and the sprogs, then thought of his promise to try to go out with Theo and his mates.
He reasoned that he’d only promised to “try.”
“Um, I kinda told Theo I’d go out with him an the mates tonight. . .”
“Think Greg, if you go out with Nott you’ll just wake up in your own bed with a bellyful of cheap firewhiskey and a poundin’ in your head. If you stay you can have a decent meal, kip in a nice warm bed and not have a hangover in the morning.”
“Askin me to spend the night, are you, Millie?” he teased.
“Mebe.” She teased back.
Greg was so flummoxed he dropped the roll of metal mesh. He blushed and picked up the roll. He grimaced as he made his decision.
“I like it here Millie, I’d love to stay.”
“Just the night then?”
“As long as you need me around here.”
“That long?”
“Yep.”
___ooo000ooo___
Thodore Nott the Third looked impressive in his dark cloak. He had just served up the last of the firewhiskey from his grand mum’s cellar and was exhorting his gang.
“Tonight we strike a blow for pure blood rights!”
He had mapped out three targets, one in Hogsmeade and two in Diagon Alley. New businesses, recently opened by mudbloods. The uniform for the attacks was a simple dark cloak, obscuring hood in place, no need for masks.
___ooo000ooo___
Pampered Magical Pets was a new business in Diagon Alley that catered to familiars. They were careful to not directly complete with established businesses, like Eyelops Owl Emporium, but did a bang-up business selling products and offering services for cats, bats, frogs, newts, ravens, owls – you name it.
There were half a dozen familiars being boarded overnight. The three sleeping cats, two hedgehogs and one rat died when half a dozen reducto curses shattered the store front.
The hooded figures followed the explosive curses with incindios that gutted the structure, reducing the stock to ashes.
“Joe’s” was a diner at the other end of Diagon Alley that resembled a large silver trailer. The restaurant sold beans and toast, fish and chips, bangers and mash – y’know, muggle fare for those from non-magical families. The structure rose unsteadily from its foundations levitated by a dozen dark robed hooded figures, rotated at its zenith, and then allowed to drop.
The Play it Again shop in Hogsmeade was a consignment store that featured children’s clothing and toys. Wizard children outgrew their clothes at the same rate as muggles and Play it Again, or PiA as it was better known, had been a godsend to young couples just starting out with a baby or two. It received the same treatment as Pampered Magical Pets in the Alley.
No one came forward to take credit for the attacks but the pattern was obvious, and familiar. All three businesses were owned by muggleborns.
At the next session of the Wizengamont both sides of the legislature, in a rare show of solidarity, unanimously condemned these not-so-random attacks on the wizarding community and promised investigations and prosecutions to the full extent of the law.
Theo Nott stared at the Prophet article in utter disbelief.
“Don’t they know I’m doin’ it for them? Don’t they get it?”
___ooo000ooo___
“Damn!”
“What is it Panz?”
“It’s getting colder and we need more jumpers and jackets.”
“So? I’ll nip on down to PiA. . .” the look on Pansy’s face silenced Millicent. “What?”
“PiA got burned out last night!”
“No! Reckon it was an accident?”
“If it was it was catching.”
“What do you mean?”
“Joe’s and Pampered Pets in the Alley were hit too.”
“Oh Jeezus, not again!”
“Looks like.”
“Any idea who?”
“Not sure, the Dark Lord was put paid to.”
“An I say good riddance!”
“Maybe we can get “Mr. Evans” to look into it?”
“Can’t hurt.”
___ooo000ooo___
Harry looked over the Prophet as Kreature poured tea.
“Looks like someone’s been up to some mischief.”
He handed the front page over to Hermione.
“Three businesses, all owned and operated by muggle-borns.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, “if I had to guess, I’d say look for disenfranchised or disgruntled purebloods.”
“Or,” Harry offered, “It could be a group trying to get us to do just that.”
“Occam’s Razor.”
“What?”
Hermione put down her tea, “Occam’s Razor, The principle states that the explanation of any phenomenon should make as few assumptions as possible, eliminating those that make no difference in the observable predictions of the explanatory hypothesis.”
“In English, please?”
“The simplest explanation is usually the best.”
“Ah. So what do we do?”
“We, Harry? We are not aurors, and frankly I think we should let the ministry handle this one. I think it will be a good first test of the Shacklebolt administration.”
Harry nodded. “Could be good for Kingsley at that.” Changing the subject he asked, “want to come with me to Pansy’s this afternoon?”
“I can’t, Harry, I’m helping Ron and Neville with their entrance exams, you remember?”
“Oh yeah, Auror Academy. Neville too?”
Hermione nodded, then asked, “How about you? Didn’t you say you wanted to be an auror?”
Harry slumped in his seat.
“I dunno, maybe.”
Hermione got up and moved to stand behind him, messaging his shoulders. She knew better than anyone what Harry was going through. The war had taken so much from him, his godfather, his mentor, his fiancé. Family and friends.
“There’s no rush Harry, take your time. It’s not like you need the money or anything – you can be a philanthropist and build schools and libraries.”
“I could buy a quidditch team. . .”
“If you want, you could play professionally.” Hermione’s heart sank at the thought, most professional quidditch players had to be medically retired early in their careers – it was a deadly rough sport when played at the professional level.
“I could teach flying at Hogwarts. . .”
Hermione perked up, that would be the best of all possible worlds, Harry could stay at the only place he’d ever loved as a home.
“Or we could get married and raise a bunch of kids.”
“Can I get back to you on that Harry?” she asked, a single tear streaking down her cheek.
“Of course.”
___ooo000ooo___
Remus, Bella and Odin stepped out of the forbidden forest in the early morning light heading for the Three Broomsticks to have a spot of breakfast. As they had emerged from the trees on the far side of town their path took them past the Parkinson House. The chill made the air clear and smoke and steam rose from several chimneys in the old Crabbe manor. They saw two women carrying overlarge bags from town toward the house.
“Please, let us help” Remus said, startled at his bass profundo voice – the charm around his neck again.
“Oh thank you brother,” Pansy said, letting the Druid take a large sack of potatoes off her shoulder.
Millicent didn’t ask for any help, and politely declined the offer “It’s about the only exercise I get anymore – I was hoping Panz here would get a workout as well.”
“I did,” Pansy said, exasperatedly, “I carried three stone of potatoes half way up the road.”
“Well, I’d hate to deprive you of your workout routine. . .” Lupin said.
“That’s okay.”
Relieved of her burden Pansy saw the odd trio for the first time.
“Um, brother,” she asked, “Isn’t it odd for a Druid to be working so closely with a Daughter of Vesta, I mean, Druids are ascetic, but not celibate and the Good Sister here is. . .”
“Brother David and I work very well together, his devotions coincide with my own and it’s very reassuring to have him with me when I make my obeisance to the Goddess.
Millie looked down and saw Odin, in his miniature druid’s robe.
“And who is this wise little one?”
“I’m Odin, and these are my Mum and Da!”
An awkward silence followed until Bella said.
“Yes, Odin is our son. He was placed in our path by the Goddess and we pledged to care for him until such time that he will not need us anymore.”
Odin looked proudly up at his adoptive parents.
“Hey, it’s no different from us having three dozen sprogs between us!”
It was Bella and Remus’s turn to look awkwardly at their traveling companions.
Millie offered the explanation, “Pansy and I run the Parkinson house, it’s a home for kids in need. We had a run-in with Umbitch, um, I mean Umbridge from the Ministry and adopted the whole lot of them. So now we’re a family with two full-time Mums and three dozen hyperactive sprogs.
“Y’know, Brother David, Sister, um, Sister?”
“Bellanca.” Remus and Bella said simultaneously.
“Sister Bellanca,” Pansy gamely continued, we could use some more hands at the house and the kids would benefit from the any lessons you could offer them. . .”
“Chaplins in residence, so to speak?”
“Might get a little more help from the DoME, y’know the Department of Magical Education.”
The party of five arrived at the gate to Parkinson House and Remus helped with breakfast as Bella went to a dark room to “perform her devotions,” Actually she was taking a long morning’s nap. She might be a daywalker but the bright winter’s sun still drained her.
The Druid and the Vestal Virgin were given rooms that were divided by a common shower and WC. Odin insisted on sleeping with one or the other or both – which raised a few eyebrows.
Later that night, as tiny Odin slept at the foot of Bella’s bed she and Remus had a long overdue talk.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, my lady?”
“Afraid I’ll eat one of the sprogs?”
“Well. . .”
“Look, I have places to go that are just a floo call away, please don’t fear for the safety of these children.”
“I guess I just needed to hear you say that, my lady.”
“Remus, please call me Bella.”
“But you are my, um, lady, my lady.”
“Your mind is completely your own, Remus.”
He looked a bit sheepish, “it wasn’t last nigh, my, um Bella.”
“I didn’t enthrall you, Remus, that was just my natural wolf’s, ah, animal attraction.”
“It was wonderful, but I felt so guilty this morning.”
“It was the wolf, Remus, it wasn’t you. You didn’t throw me down and shag me rotten in the middle of the meadow; our other selves were just attracted to each other.”
“Perfectly natural.” He insisted.
“Perfectly.” She agreed.
“So,” he asked, “Will we be doing our “devotions” in the forest tonight. . .”
“Oh, absolutely.”
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