Montague's Journey

Chapter 7 - Return of the Magi

"I believe we've got him," said a familiar alto voice.

A girl's face appeared over Montague. It was a very plain face except for her protuberant silver eyes that gave her a dotty appearance. Her long dirty blond hair was tucked back behind her ears from which dangled earrings made of radishes. Around her neck was a string of Butterbeer caps. She opened her mouth to speak but, before she could utter another word, someone shoved her out of the way. The girl's face was replaced by several others, some of whom looked very distraught.

"Mum? Dad? Professor Snape?" said Montague. "Blimey, am I glad to see you!" He sat up quickly and immediately felt dizzy and nauseous. To make matters worse, everyone surrounding him started bombarding him with questions. The noisy barrage rattled his senses worse than the trip down the ladder well inside the crystal ball. All of the voices were silenced with a piercing shout from Madam Pomfrey.

"Quiet, all of you," Pomfrey commanded. "Give the boy some room. Here, drink this Montague."

A sweet flavored drink was pressed to his lips, and Montague was happy to sit up and take a few sips. It was a refreshing potion. It had the same restoring effect as chocolate did after being too close to a dementor. Montague took the mug from Madam Pomfrey and after a few more sips, the dizziness subsided. He took a few steady breaths and looked at the group assembled around his bed. His mother seemed disturbed; his father was passive (as usual); Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, looked amused; and Professor Snape was alternating venomous looks between Flitwick and the young girl. Montague could not get a good look at the girl due to Madam Pomfrey's continuing examination, but he thought he should know her since he knew everyone else.

"Reginald. Are you alright?" asked his father.

"Yes, I'm fine, I think. Son of Slytherin, you're never gonna believe where I've been," said Montague, regaining the excitement of his adventure. "I was in this really dark place with ghostly dragons and nifflers and wizards. And there was this place with thousands upon thousands of socks floating around and I managed to get inside this snitch. Then, I met this old dodger of wizard, Corny Agrippa and..." Montague stopped his ranting. His mother's face was etched with apparent pain.

"He's still babbling. Are you sure we captured the right spirit? What was in that potion?" demanded his mother of the audience at large. Madam Pomfrey gave her a stern look and bustled off across the ward. No one else offered a reply.

"What do you mean? It's true, mum. I was inside this Chocolate Frog Card with a guy named Agrippa and before that I was chained to a wall in this tower with a huge tree and this really pretty witch named Luna flew into the tower and..." Again Montague cut his fable short as every person surrounding him had turned to look at the young girl. She had receded into the background and took no notice of the ensemble staring at her. She busied herself with blowing out numerous candles that were surrounding the bed and twining her fingers through the wispy trails of smoke that ensued.

Why are they all staring at her?

"Well, that would certainly explain where the senseless babbling came from," said Professor Snape.

"Perhaps she inadvertently transferred some of her personality to him," interjected his father. "It's happened before, you know - the transferring of powers between two wizard-kind."

"Nonsense, Francis. Be quiet," snapped his mother.

"Indeed, Mr. Montague," continued Professor Snape. "Although, if you were thinking about burning a scar on your son's forehead and giving him a famous nickname, I might suggest calling him The-Boy-Who-Drooled-For-Three-Weeks. He is just maintaining this ridiculous pretense for his own delight."

"I would have to agree, Professor Snape. Reginald, what is the meaning of all this?" his mother asked in a similar, stubborn tone. Clutched in each of her hands were multi-colored socks, and she whipped them down onto the bed before him. The others in the group also pitched two or more socks onto a rather large pile at the foot of his bed. Professor Flitwick contributed two fluffy white socks and smiled back at Montague.

"I... I don't understand. What... what's with all the socks?" Montague asked.

"Oh, I suppose you're finding the greatest amusement in all this," his mother said gesturing to the socks and the candles around the room. "And dragging us away from work and the Professors from their duties must be so entertaining. Was this some bet with your house mates to see how foolish you could make us all look?"

"No. It's not a bet. I almost died," Montague said defensively. "I was... there was this... the bloody Weasley twins--"

"Ah yes, the Weasleys," Snape cut in. "How convenient that they are no longer at Hogwarts."

"Oh now, that's enough Severus," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Give the boy some time--"

"--to come up with a fantastical story like Miss Lovegood's?" Snape interrupted again and glared at Flitwick.

"Some time to rest and heal properly. He's had quite a remarkable experience I should think," replied Flitwick. Montague could see more was being exchanged between the little Charms professor and the imposing Snape. Oddly, Flitwick seemed to have the cooler hand. Their dueling eyes were broken by the shrill voice of Montague's mother.

"Very well," said his mother, "we won't 'entertain' you any longer. Reginald, you're grounded this holiday until I get an adequate explanation. Professor Snape, a word with you in private, please. Come, Francis." His mother rose out of her seat and his father dutifully followed, but not before offering his hand to Professor Flitwick.

"Thank you for your help, Professor," said his father. "I understand the teachers are being inspected this year; I would be happy to write the headmistress and offer my praise for you and this young student of yours."

"You will do no such thing! Get over here, Francis," barked his mother. His father quickly dropped his handshake with Flitwick.

"Coming, Victoria," sighed Montague's father. He leaned closer to Professor Flitwick and lowered his voice. "Do thank the young lady for us," he muttered, and then he shuffled over to the council with his wife and Professor Snape. Montague was left in the company of Professor Flitwick, the young girl and Madam Pomfrey who had just returned with a marvelous smelling soup.

"How do you feel, Montague?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"I feel like I've been tumbled in a sock dryer, burned, stunned and stabbed - all at the same time," Montague replied and hungrily charged into the hot soup. "What happened to me?"

"We don't know exactly. You've been acting strange for nearly three weeks - talking unintelligibly and having odd seizures; then other times you'd just stare vacantly at the ceiling like a statue," she answered neutrally.

"I wasn't acting, I was..." Montague's voice trailed off. Madam Pomfrey gave him a skeptical look while she adjusted his pillows to help him sit up and eat easier.

Professor Flitwick was right. He needed some time to piece together his story. Minutes ago his determined beliefs had saved him from the brink of death - there was no way he could casually disregard that fact - but explaining it would require some pretty smooth talking to avoid being grounded for the summer.

"You were out of your mind," spoke the young girl. Montague stopped eating his soup and looked up at the girl. He knew that voice, but the face didn't match his expectations.

"Luna?" he asked.

She nodded and came to sit beside him. Madam Pomfrey eyed the girl cautiously before flitting off to her watch station at the end of the ward.

"Welcome back, Reginald," said Luna. "You look much better."

"And you look... different," said Montague tentatively. The Luna in his dream was much, much prettier, and he had to repress his ingrained Slytherin behavior to not blurt it out loud. Yet, his disappointment was not lost on Luna.

"You saw me in your dream as you wanted to see me. There's nothing wrong with that," replied Luna wisely. Montague blushed. It seemed her uncanny ability of reading his mind was not restricted to shared dreams.

"You believe me, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course I do. Neither of us would be here now if I didn't believe you."

"So, you did tell Professor Snape."

"Not exactly. After I woke up, Professor Snape came for me," said Luna.

"He came to you," said Montague. "How did he know?"

"Apparently, in your delirious state, you shouted my name a few times," said Luna. "Madam Pomfrey reported it to Professor Snape and he immediately pulled me from my lessons. I told him everything and he didn't believe me," Luna sighed. "Thankfully, Professor Flitwick got involved when word got around school that Professor Snape locked me in his office. I think Ginny Weasley had something to do with that."

Montague choked on a spoonful of soup - partly because of Snape's action, but mostly because hearing "Weasley" aloud was becoming as irksome as hearing the Dark Lord's name.

"Anyway, Professor Flitwick broke the wards on Snape's door - which Professor Snape did not appreciate - and I told him everything too," continued Luna.

"So, you believe me, Professor?" Montague asked Flitwick.

"I do so more now than when I first heard Miss Lovegood's account. At the time, let's just say I was more than willing to trust a Ravenclaw mind," winked Flitwick. Not surprisingly, Montague understood that feeling. "As you are undoubtedly aware, her hypothesis was probably correct. You were temporarily out of your mind or, shall we say, your mind was out of you."

Luna answered Montague's perplexed look. "Your mind and body were split apart. We still don't know how it happened. They found your body in a toilet on the fourth floor about two days after you disappeared. Your mind found its way into a snitch and then my dream. We just had to bring them back together. So, we held a séance."

"A séance?" Montague asked.

"Yes, a séance. Sort of a Summoning Charm for a spirit object, really. Amazing, simply amazing," Professor Flitwick said with a beaming smile directed toward Luna.

"Alright, now I'm the one who can't believe what you're saying," spouted Montague. Montague really had no reason to challenge Luna's help. Still, he rather believed it was his own willpower that brought him back to Hogwarts. "Séances are silly Muggle sideshow acts."

"Oh no, they are real. Daddy published a whole issue of the Quibbler on the psychic arts," said Luna matter-of-factly. "They are quite effective. All you need are a few things the spirit is attracted to and some close blood relatives. Luckily, your parents were already here. We heard your mum in the dream, remember?"

Montague did remember and, judging by the animated discussion between her and Professor Snape, she wasn't any more receptive to his condition currently as she was in the dream.

"That must've been a challenge. How did you manage to convince Professor Snape and my parents to join the séance?" asked Montague.

Luna started giggling. "Professor Flitwick, you tell him," she said between giggles. She glanced over at Snape and Montague's parents and bit down on her fist to keep from laughing out loud.

"I didn't appreciate Professor Snape locking up Miss Lovegood so, after releasing her, we tracked him down," said Professor Flitwick. "We found him up here, in the hospital wing, where we silently observed him casting a most unusual assortment of Charms on a snitch." He nodded toward a glass encasement resting on the bedside table. Inside, a golden snitch darted back and forth, occasionally rapping itself against the side like a trapped bumble bee.

"He wasn't... Did he think...?" Montague fumbled.

"Yes, although you can be sure he will never admit it," said Flitwick with a smile.

"Especially after what we did to him next," said Luna after taking her knuckle out of her mouth. She quickly replaced it as she looked ready to explode hysterically. Montague looked back to Flitwick for the rest of the story.

"What did you do?"

"What would you do if your Quidditch team had just suffered a painful match at the hands of a very uncharacteristic snitch, hmm? And, here before you was someone casting spells on the very snitch in question," said Flitwick. Montague's eyes widened to saucers. "I sent Luna to fetch Madam Hooch. She was on high alert for any tamping with her equipment. We simply provided her with some proof."

Montague was aghast. It was so skillfully Slytherin-like and yet, this was Professor Flitwick, the teacher second only to McGonagall as the school standard of decorum and professionalism. Luna couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a hearty guffaw and clutched her sides.

"It was most entertaining to watch," Flitwick continued over Luna's mirth, "and a lot of fun to participate too. I demanded a re-match since it was obvious Ravenclaw was severely hurt by Professor Snape's alleged tinkering, and I threatened to turn him into the Department of Magical Games and Sports. That is, unless he cooperated with myself and Miss Lovegood. He had no defense against myself and Madam Hooch. We caught him red-handed. He was more than willing to attribute the whole idea of the séance to me to save face with your parents and to persuade them to participate."

Just then, Luna's laughter abruptly turned into warning coughs: Snape had returned.

"Well, well. Having a good time laughing at your parents, are you?" Snape sneered.

"Have they left?" Montague asked, ignoring the ridicule and looking past Snape for evidence of his parents.

"Yes, and they are quite upset," said Snape.

"Why?"

"Let's see," he said mocking an intellectual pose, "first, your inexplicable illness; second, a ridiculous summoning spell; third, your even more remarkable, instant recovery; and finally, and possibly most distressing, your mother thinks you're dating a Ravenclaw." He glanced at Luna who promptly turned as red as the radishes hanging from her earlobes.

"Speaking of Ravenclaw," said Professor Flitwick, "I'm glad you've joined us again, Severus. I want you to hear this." He looked directly at Luna. "Miss Lovegood, I am astounded - fascinated, really - with your marvelous bit of old school magic. It's the kind of bright thinking and magic I have come to expect from those in my house. I award fifty points to Ravenclaw for your excellent display of Ancient Magic and for restoring a fellow student to good health."

Luna's jaw dropped and she nearly fell off her seat. Praise was not something she was accustomed to, especially from her head of house. On the other hand, the burning anger on Professor Snape's face looked hot enough to ignite the oil in his hair.

"You don't seriously believe Lovegood's Muggle-magic drivel had anything to do with Montague's recovery," said Snape.

"Oh, I don't think it was the only thing, Severus," said Flitwick. "However, you certainly can't deny Montague is now alert and coherent after Miss Lovegood's spell work. Quite a remarkable change from his condition over the past few weeks, don't you think?" Snape took a big breath and prepared to launch into his counter-argument, but Flitwick cut him off before he could start. "Why he might even be healthy for the Quidditch match next weekend. You ought to be very pleased."

The slight twitch of Snape's upper lip hinted that he heard, and understood, the full snub of Flitwick's statement. Flitwick was clearly milking the moment for all it was worth. Snape turned on his heel and stormed out of the hospital wing without another word.

Montague, Luna, and Professor Flitwick all enjoyed a good laugh after which Luna questioned Montague about everything that had happened after she left the dream. Montague found it easy to relax and talk about the whole experience. Professor Flitwick listened nearby with some interest but remained relatively silent. He occupied himself by sifting through the sock pile at the foot of Montague's bed. The Charms professor would levitate a sock into the air, spin it around, examine it critically, then either set it aside or Vanish it.

"May I keep these," asked Professor Flitwick, holding up a dozen mismatched socks. "I think they would make a fine gift for Professor Dumbledore." Montague didn't know why Flitwick needed his permission, but he gave it anyway. Just after Montague finished explaining his encounter with Peeves in the Owlrey, Madam Pomfrey arrived, broke up the unlikely trio and insisted that Montague get some undisturbed rest.

Luna made ready to leave. She softly hummed a melody to herself while collecting the strange paraphernalia used in the summoning ritual. Professor Flitwick helped by transforming the vines of deep green ivy draped on the bedposts into green ribbons. Luna delicately placed candles, incense and a silver bell into a small basket that looked liked it was woven from switches of the Whomping Willow. The sweet chime of the bell caught Montague's attention, and he asked Luna to ring it again and again. Finally, she just let him have it and he set it on the bedside table next to the snitch cage.

Up until now, Montague had not paid any attention to the items on the table. The snitch still zipped around inside its case. Next to the case, he found his wand and his Inquisitorial Squad badge and beside them was a multi-colored tulip. He picked up the flower and twirled it in his fingers to watch the colors blend together in a rainbow pinwheel. He called to Luna and Flitwick just as they turned to leave.

"Hey, Luna. You forgot this," he called and extended the tulip to her. Luna came over to look at the pretty flower but made no effort to take it.

"It's very pretty, but I didn't bring any flowers here. It must be yours," said Luna plainly.

"Take it anyway... for all your help," Montague offered.

Luna blushed again, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Like the chains in your dream, I sense it is more a product of you than of me. You need to keep it. It will bring you good luck."

Montague could not think of a response. Part of him understood what Luna was sensing and part of him still wanted her to have the flower.

Flitwick approached and placed his hand on Luna's shoulder. "We must be going before Madam Pomfrey becomes irate. Would you care to join me in the kitchens for a nice cup of hot chocolate?" he asked cheerfully.

"Certainly, Professor, I'd love to," Luna replied with a gracious smile. She gathered up her basket and waved to Montague where he sat propped up in his hospital bed, still holding the colored tulip. "Good night, Reginald. Sleep tight, and don't let the Bollywoggles bite." As they started to go, Montague could hear Flitwick questioning Luna about the uses of common elements like silver bells in complex spell models. Luna happily launched into some incomprehensible story of the spirit planes while Flitwick listened with interest. Their voices trailed off as they left the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey returned with a smoking concoction and, though it reeked like fried niffler hair, he drank it willingly. In minutes, Montague passed into a welcoming dreamless sleep.

***

Montague awoke before sunrise and was relieved to find himself still in the Hogwarts infirmary. He pressed his head back into the familiar comfort of the down pillows and filled his lungs with the sterile air. He was back. No strange wizards. No prisons. No dark worlds. He lay peacefully in his hospital bed trying to sort out what had really happened to him. After three minutes of blankly staring at the tulip glowing magically on the bedside table, his mind alerted him of his uncomfortably cold feet. Montague thought of the nice mismatched wooly black socks that he'd seen the evening before. Two black socks, one with a green toe and heel, the other with the letters A, P, W, B and D woven in gold along its length. He picked up his wand, pictured the socks clearly in his mind, stirred the air and conjured the socks. The socks materialized on the bed before him and he happily slipped them over his cold toes.

I wonder if...

He cracked a mischievous smile, concentrated and twirled his wand again.

A white tail-less mouse with sharp teeth hiding under a box of snails.

A little mouse materialized out of the air and plopped lightly onto the bed before him. It looked up at a very wicked smile.

"I believe we have some unfinished business," he said to the mouse.

The mouse shivered, glanced left and right, looking for an escape route, then leapt from the bed and bolted. Montague laughed and raised his wand. He was definitely back.