The Purloined Prophetess

XXVII: Larry Finally Gets Some Respect

So you don't all hate me? - L. L.

No, Larry, we don't hate you. Tonks tells me you're responsible for passing along some information that may make my life a lot easier. I wanted to say thank you. And I'm sorry I haven't been friendlier. - R. J. L.

Don't mention it. By the way, you said something a long time ago that I've been meaning to ask you about. - L. L.

What is it? If it's about Hairy Snout, Human Heart - I have thought it over, and I really wouldn't feel right about taking credit for somebody else's hard work. - R. J. L.

No, it isn't about that at all. Are you absolutely positive Stubby Boardman isn't a Death Eater? - L. L.

What? When did I say that? - R. J. L.

You said so when we were talking about why I shouldn't leave the Instant Message Books lying around, remember? But I think it's pretty strange that one day he comes storming into the office acting like he's going to haul me into court that very minute, and then I never hear another word from him or his soliciter. - L. L.

You're dead right. I'm willing to bet Stubby Boardman is a Death Eater. - N. T.

What makes you so sure? - R. J. L.

Because Larry was clipping his toenails when I went to visit him in the Quibbler office, and the clippings were still on the desk when Boardman was left alone in the office. He could easily have stolen them and used them to make Polyjuice potion. I can't believe I didn't see it before - except my head was so full of Snape. And for what it's worth, there's a Death Eater named Jephthah Nott who is dark-haired, thin, and stooped just like the man who claimed to be Stubby Boardman - N. T.

You went to visit Larry? I've missed a lot, haven't I? But if Boardman is Nott, how did he know Larry was working with us? I know I Arcanum charmed these books against the Notts. - R. J. L.

Both of them? - N. T.

Yes. - R. J. L.

So either Stubby Boardman is Jephthah Nott, and he's got some source for inside information, or - more likely - he's someone completely new who picked up Larry's Instant Message Book while it was lying around in the loo and learned everything he needed to know that way. - N. T.

Sorry. - L. L.

Never mind being sorry, Larry, just tell us if you've had contact with any other people you suspect might be Death Eaters. - N. T.

Sure! Lots! Dolores Umbridge, for starters, now that we know she isn't at St. Mungo's. And Cornelius Fudge, Stan Shunpike, Griselda Marchbanks, Newt Scamander, Aidan Lynch, Celestina Warbeck the Singing Sorceress, Florean Fortescue ... - L. L.

In other words ... round up the usual suspects. Thanks, we'll get right on it. - N. T.

I was glad at least one Auror seemed to be on top of things.

My second week at Hogwarts was a dificult time, although Miss Tonks was as kind as could be and I was sure she, at least, believed I hadn't kidnapped Sybill. But it was awfully hard seeing her take the shape of the one person I most wanted to see and knowing she ... wasn't. I sent dozens of the school owls off with letters to Sybill. Owls usually know how to find people even when humans can't. But one after another, they came back with the letters undellivered.

Jack asked me to dig out Boardman's buiseness card and try to contact him, but that owl came back too. He'd obviously given a fake address, and it turned out the name was fake too, because the Aurors found out that the real Stubby Boardman was still in Barbados and had been a houseguest of the Carribbean Minister of Magic on the day Sybill disappeared. We were no closer to finding her than before.

I couldn't even bring myself to write the house-elf article I promised Hermione Granger. Little Luna did her best to comfort me, but she was usually busy with her classes or with the Defence Against the Dark Arts club that the Boy Who Lived had founded. (Their real Defence Against the Dark Arts professor isn't very good, she said. I wonder if somebody in the Ministry is seeing to it that only unqualiffied people apply for that position - somebody who really doesn't want the students to learn how to defend themselves? I must do a little instigative reporting when I get back to London.) Anyway, I apreciated Luna's company but I also thought she should spend time with her friends and take care of her Snorkack. I told her I would be all right on my own. I spent hours sitting at the base of the North Tower, talking to the one person who really simpathised with me.

'What made you decide to become a knight?' I asked.

'When I was young,' he said, 'and Arthur son of Uther Pendragon became the first king of all Britain, he brought us together and charged us not to be as the knights of the old days who cared only for power and plunder, but ever to flee treason, and to give mercy unto him that asketh mercy, and to do ladies, damsels, and gentlewomen succour, and to take no battles in a wrongful quarrel for love nor for the world's goods. This oath did I take with a joyous heart, for I have ever believed the proper duty of a knight is to fight for justice, and to give aid and comfort to those who have no champion on their side, and to bring down the wicked who are in high places.'

'Those are some of the same reasons I became a journalist,' I said. 'The magical world is still too full of predjudice and corruption, and I wanted to fight on the side of truth and help the underdogs.'

'But alas,' Sir Cadogan continued, 'in later years, there came divisions in the kingdom, and many knights did treason against their will, and it seemed at times that all quarrels were wrongful on all sides. And,' he admitted, falling off his pony with a crash, 'some of the oppressed peasants and gentle damsels I was most desirous of helping seemed to regard me as but a poor champion, and would not let me go on quests on their behalf.'

'I feel exactly the same way,' I said. 'There are still divisions in the kingdom, and it's hard to tell who is really on the side of truth and justice. And sometimes,' I said, thinking of H.O.W.L. with a sigh, 'I do my best to help people, but they don't always seem very happy about it.'

He picked himself up, rubbed the grass stains off his armour, and nodded gravely. ''Tis always the same. I think at times that I shall forswear doing battle for the sake of other people. 'Tis simpler to go on a quest for a beast, or a grail, or almost anything that doth not speak.'

'Well, if it comes down to that - after all this is over, I'm hoping to go on an expedition to catch a Cross-Eyed or Herbaceous Aberflooie. I wish you weren't a portrait so you could come. I could use another good man.'

'I would if I could, and godspeed on thy quest for the Cross-Eyed or Herbaceous Aberflooie. And 'tis a shame thou livest so long after my time, Sir Larry. I would have been proud to know thee.'

XXVIII: Culture Shock

I reviewed our notes and wondered, for the hundredth time, why on earth Professor Dumbledore had put so much faith in my ability to think like a wizard. I had no idea where Sybill Trelawney was hidden or who had kidnapped her. It was hard to make my new acquaintances understand my perplexity because many of them seemed to regard the entire Muggle world as a quaint, provincial village where anybody could be found in two days or less. I was getting used to questions like Arthur Weasley's 'Do you know my wife's second cousin Dave? I think he's an accountant, or maybe an architect ... anyway, it was something that began with an A.'

I explained that if you took all the Muggles in Britain named Dave who were in professions that began with A and stood them on each other's shoulders, they'd reach to the moon.

'Really?' he said with interest. 'Then why does anybody bother with rocket ships?'

After a few minutes of trying unsuccessfully to analyse the logic behind this statement, I gave up and returned to the problem at hand. Unlike Tonks, I was not prepared to eliminate Larry as a suspect. Her theory that Stubby Boardman had made Polyjuice Potion out of Larry's toenail clippings was interesting but far-fetched, I thought. If the times we'd been given were correct, Larry and Sybill's kidnapper must have arrived in the North Tower almost simultaneously. Surely the most straightforward explanation was that they were one and the same. But I was beginning to accept that things were seldom straightforward in the world I'd been plunged into.

I let my wife read my Instant Message Book. She couldn't make head or tail of the case either, but it all interested her very much, especially my upcoming trip to Hogsmeade.

'I'd like to come along for the ride,' she said.

'You know this is essentially just a business trip,' I warned her. 'And we won't be able to see Mark, because first-years aren't allowed to visit the village.'

'I know. I still want to come.'

I couldn't blame her. Six months earlier I would have jumped at the chance to visit Hogsmeade regardless of the circumstances. Now I was so accustomed to worrying about Sybill, and Tonks, and the rest of my new acquaintances, that I'd forgotten how much fun their world promised to be. At least I was reasonably sure Mark was safe and having the time of his life; his letters were full of glowing reports about his new friend Aurelius and most of his classes. History of Magic seemed to be a particular favourite.

History of Magic?!? - R. B., R. J. L., and N. T.

Your young friends haven't told you about the substitute teacher yet, have they? Let's just say he has surpassed all of our expectations. - M. McG.

A few days before we left for Hogsmeade, Tonks and Reg invited me along on a brief trip back to Remus' flat. I didn't altogether understand why, but everyone seemed to agree that it was still too dangerous for him to return home, so he had asked us to bring him something to read. He had finished all the interesting parts of Shakespeare and was now stuck with King John and Timon of Athens. 'Anything except books on Dark magic,' he said. 'There are already too many of those in the library at Grimmauld Place.'

I arrived late because of a delay in the Spirit's End Underground station. A bored-looking police officer said a man had tried to commit suicide by throwing himself onto the rails. "Third time this month. Dunno what it is about this station."

I looked at the faces of the frustrated commuters, their plans for the evening thrown off by a stranger's despair, and for some reason the culture shock I'd been feeling over the last few months intensified. I dimly remembered some words from an English class in school...

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less ... Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind ...

It was odd to think that my new friends, who had Apparated to this neighbourhood in the blink of an eye, were not involved in the little accidents of humanity that affect Muggles so casually, and in turn, the men and women in the station were untouched by the war that concerned nearly everybody in the wizarding world. Except me. I supposed that made me an isthmus or something? I've never been good at geography or metaphors.

I expected Tonks and Reg would be almost ready to leave by the time I finally joined them, but they were in the middle of an argument. The trouble was that there were entirely too many books to choose from. The Flying Book of Owls and Steal this Book if You Dare were flat out, as they seemed resentful of their owner's prolonged absence and kept attacking us, but we spent half an hour picking through the more docile volumes.

'Hmm,' said Tonks. 'I don't think Sixteenth-Century Developments in Arithmancy is exactly what he had in mind, although with him you never know.'

'And not Muggle and Wizard Inheritance Law: A Comparative History,' said Reg. 'That looks deathly dull.'

'Ahem,' I said. 'Take a look at the author's name.'

'Oh. Sorry, Jack.'

'That's all right,' I said. 'It was pretty dull to write, too. Don't your people write any fiction?'

'Apart from the complete works of Gilderoy Lockhart, you mean? Not very much, it isn't our strong suit,' said Tonks.

'Here's The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle,' said Reg, holding up what looked like an animated comic book. 'That's fiction, isn't it?'

'I think he'll like this better,' I said, tucking the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe under my arm. 'The rest of you might enjoy it too.'

Just before we left, Reg picked up a bottle that had been sitting on the kitchen counter. 'Is this the last of my brother's single-malt Scotch?'

'Looks like it,' said Tonks, looking around the kitchen. 'I don't think you should open it without asking, though.'

'I wasn't going to,' said Reg. 'I have big plans for it.'

XXIX: Wizard Eye for the Muggle Guy

I told Moony about my plans for the Scotch when we got back to Grimmauld Place. He got very quiet for a moment, and I wasn't sure how he felt about the idea, but at last he looked up and smiled. 'Yes. I think he would have approved.'

'Of course he would. And,' I added hopefully, although I didn't expect him to be keen on this part at all, 'I'm pretty sure he'd want Harry to be there too.'

'Speaking as Harry's legal guardian,' he said, 'I'd say that sneaking out at night and underage drinking are ... absolutely permitted under the circumstances.'

Good old Moony. It's this flexible attitude toward rules that made him the best prefect in the history of Hogwarts.

* * *

Jack and Harriet arrived at my house on Friday evening, since we were planning to leave for Hogsmeade early the next morning. 'You'll have to borrow some of our robes, of course,' said Nymphadora. 'Nobody wears Muggle clothes in Hogsmeade. Well, the kids might, but not adults. You'd stick out too much.'

She had brought a spare set which she offered to Harriet, but Jack posed more of a problem. I like to think I've got decent fashion sense for a bloke, but he couldn't possibly borrow mine because they were about six inches too long for him.

'I'm about his height,' said Moony. 'He can have some of mine.'

Nymphadora and I exchanged a significant look. There were two very obvious problems with this idea, but it was hard to mention them without insulting either Moony or Jack.

Fortunately they spoke up first. It's good to have friends who don't mind insulting themselves, it saves you the trouble of doing it for them. 'I don't think Remus' robes will fit me. I'm, well, a bit overweight and he isn't,' said Jack.

'And if we try to alter mine, they'll probably fall apart. Yes, I know they're worn out. I won't be offended if you mention it. Reg, wasn't your uncle Alphard closer to Jack's build? Maybe some of his things are still lying around.'

I shuddered. 'Moony, I love ya, but you've got no sense of style. He can't walk around Hogsmeade in Uncle Alph's robes, he'll look like a refugee from the Golden Age of Disco.'

'Oh?' he said. 'And what do you look like in your Stubby Boardman outfit?'

'I'm a singing sensation, so I can get away with it. We want Jack to look like a normal wizard.'

'Molly Weasley might be my size,' said Jack innocently.

The rest of us cracked up, except Harriet. 'I don't think so, Jack,' I said. 'Not unless you want to star in Hogsmeade's first drag show.' (Actually, that might not be a bad idea. I filed it away for future reference in case Stubby Boardman's usual routine wore thin.)

'Oh. I didn't realise wizard robes came in a male and a female version. From my perspective...' Jack didn't finish the sentence.

Moony smiled. '... It looks like we're all in drag. Right?'

'Well ... yes.'

'Trust me,' he said, 'we can tell the difference even if you can't. But that gives me an idea - some of Fred or George's robes might do for Jack. I'll ask Arthur if the twins have left anything lying around - I'm sure he'd be happy to swap them for your suit over the weekend.'

Now it was Jack and Harriet's turn to exchange Significant Looks. 'The Weasleys' fashion sense...'

' - Is fine as long as they stick to the kind of clothing they know about,' said Nymphadora. 'Oy, Arthur, come up here for a minute!' Arthur appeared in the doorway, and we explained what we wanted him to do.

'Sure!' he said happily. 'I've always wanted one of those three-piecer suits. Only the colours aren't very bright, are they? Maybe my new tie would perk it up.'

When they returned a few minutes later, Arthur was wearing Jack's suit and a really cool tie with lime green, orange, and pink swirls. I want one like that. 'How do I look?' he asked.

'Great,' said Jack. 'Very ... psychedelic. And I don't think George's robes look bad on me at all.'

'Well, they go really well with your tartan boxers,' said Nymphadora, smirking. 'You're supposed to tuck and tie them in the back so you don't get arrested for indecent exposure.'

After that, Jack looked all right - until he tried to walk in them. Harriet looked stylish in my cousin's robes as long as she sat still, but she had the same problem.

'You look fine,' said Moony encouragingly.

Nymphadora caught my eye and we both started snickering. 'No, they don't. They keep bouncing when they walk. You want to billow.'

'How do you billow?' asked Harriet.

I hadn't the slightest idea. It just came naturally. 'I'm not sure. Maybe only wizards can do it.'

'No, it's just a way of moving,' said Nymphadora. 'Took me forever to learn how to do it, too. The idea is to sort of glide, not ... trample.'

After half an hour of practice, Harriet could do a passable glide, but Jack was hopeless. 'I look like a cross between a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and a pile driver, don't I?'

Moony looked as if he were trying desperately to think of something tactful to say, and then gave up the struggle. 'Yes, Jack, I'm afraid you do.'

We were going to take the Evanses' car to Hogsmeade, since they can't Apparate. Jack explained that 'car' was short for 'Muggle flying carpet,' and that the engine was powered by a colony of hamsters whose exercise wheel was connected to a generator.

That's very intresting! I bet most people don't know that. I wonder if Jack would like to do a regular column for The Quibbler explaining how Muggle artifacks work. - L. L.

Glad to, Larry. - J. M. E.

Remind me to take out a subscription to The Quibbler when we get home. - R. J. L.

Yeah, I think I should get my dad one as a Christmas present. - N. T.