A story blug

6. The Choice

09 Aug 2009 2 Comments

by miztres in belonging, choice, Family, Fan Fiction, Harry Potter

There are two primary choices in life:  to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.

Denis Waitley

Tom awoke alone in a hospital bed somewhere he didn’t recognise.  It wasn’t Iraq, outside his door his could hear nurses chatting about a favourite author now in the next ward.  Confusingly, above his head attached to the bedhead railings a sign read:

Nil per venificus

When his eyes opened again he noticed the details of his room.  On the window sill stood a large bunch of flowers and on the bedside draws lay his mobile phone.  With a shaking hand he reached for the phone and spent a minute or two focusing on the time and date on the screen.  Wednesday 3 April, 9.35am.  Two days since  Hogsmead. Tom wasn’t sure where the time had gone.  He opened his phone to call home and was surprised by a picture of Eleonore.  Surrounded by a flock of interdepartmental memos, she was looking up into the camera a smile lighting her pale eyes.  He remembered Mr Weasley taking the shot Monday morning, but he couldn’t remember seeing how lovely she looked.

He must have dropped off again because the next thing Tom knew Professor Flyrite was by his bed taking the phone out of his unresisting hand and the sky outside the window was overcast.

“Good afternoon Tom, I’m glad you’re awake, I have something for you.”  The Professor replaced the phone on the chest of draws and handed Tom two small pills and a glass of water.
“Antibiotics.  Just be thankful you have your own private G.P. otherwise these magical quacks could do nothing but watch you burn up from infection.”
“Private doctor?  Who?”  Tom asked weakly as the Professor urged him to take the pills.
“Why me of course, one of my many talents.”
“So no magical healing for me then?”
“‘Fraid not.  That’s why they’ve given you your sign, Nil by magic. You have the healers completely baffled.  They did a good job of stitching you up, seems they’ve had some practice, but when it came to dealing with an infection the best they could offer was Feverfew and Willowbark .”  The Professor chirped merrily as he checked first Tom’s temperature and then his pulse.  It seemed the Professor at least was seeing the bright side of Tom hospitalisation.
“Where am I?”
“St Mungo’s hospital for Magical Maladies.  I actually wonder if  they’ve seen anything as mundane as your splinter.
Tom glanced at his leg and it throbbed angrily in reply.
“How is it?”
“Hmmm, not bad.”  The Professor’s cheery mood dulled to professional understatement, “The stake did damage to the muscle and ligaments of the calf.  If we can get on top of the infection you’ll be out of here by the end of the week, but I fear that you will favour that leg for a long time to come.  You also had a nasty dementor attack which has the effect of lowering the immune system. Which reminds me…”  The Professor pulled a large chocolate bar out of his sport coat pocket, “That’s also medicine so expect you to eat that.”

Tom dully handed back the glass and lay back on the pillows.  The Professor’s brow furrowed in concern.
“I wouldn’t worry about it Tom, many a great wizard hunter has continued a productive career with whole limbs missing, a limp will do nothing but give you character and make you hate rainy days.”

But it will have me medically discharged from the army. Tom thought but couldn’t bare to say out loud.

Sensing his patients deteriorating mood the Professor changed the subject.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
“I’m really tired Professor…” Tom whined uncharacteristically.
“You’ve slept for thirty-six hours, I’m sure you can spare a few minutes for this person.”  The Professor wasn’t to be put off as he opened the door and ushered the visitor in.
Tom tried to turn away from the door but all he could do was turn his head.  He was aware that he was being childish, but weakness, pain and a growing unease about his injury made him realise he didn’t care.

“Tom?”  It was Eleonore, and her voice sounded strained.  Tom turned back to look at her and surprised to see a robust looking baby squirming for release.  “May I, he’s heavy.”  She gestured to the bed and Tom nodded mute agreement.  Gently she placed the baby on the bed beside Tom, it’s chubby limbs slapping the hospital linen.
“Who ‘dat?”  Ask the baby, pale green eyes roaming all around Tom’s face.
“That is Uncle Tom.”  Eleonore supplied, “Tom, this is your nephew, Nathaniel.”
“‘aniel!”  The boy cried happily responding to his name.

Tom was overwhelmed.  It was one thing to know of the child’s existence, but a very different thing to actually have the boy in front of you, looking at you from pale green eyes.  Unknowingly, tears rolled silently down his face.  Baby Nathaniel’s chubby face screwed up in in childish version of empathy.
“Cryin’.”  He said to his mother in almost shock.
“Yes, Uncle Tom is sick so we’ve come to make it all better.”
With this knowledge, Nathaniel leaned down and grabbed a hold of Tom’s hand with both of his and gave it a wet kiss.
“All better.”

Tom laughed and forgot the pain for a moment, thanking Nathaniel for his care.
“He has your eyes.”
Eleonore’s face soured for a moment at the comment.
“He has his grandfather’s eyes.”  And then it soften again as her focus shifted to something better, “But his father’s compassion.”

The knot in Tom’s stomach grew and he allowed his eyes to wander away from Eleonore and her adorable child to the featureless ceiling.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to see how you are, I thought that dementor had performed a kiss on you but I guess you muggles are made tough.  I’ve also come to say thank you.  Without you taking out Grech we couldn’t have got the dementors under control.  I guess we make a pretty good team.”
“Well you’ll have to catch your evil wizards without me for a while?”
“Done, the elder Grech along with the fellow you knocked out so spectacularly were taken in to the Ministry soon after we left the scene.  The Professor, George and Col tricked Gordon into confessing to spying for the group.  Col, as you can understand is distraught, but George is doing his best.”
“George?  Oh, the bubble wand.”  Tom made the connection and Eleonore nodded in confirmation.  “How about the doctor’s here, the Professor said they were suspicious.”
“Not so much suspicious as baffled.  The Professor has fed them a story of a experimental anti-jinx potion, but if that doesn’t hold them we’ll send in the Obliviators.”
“Obliviators?”
“We’ll modify their memories, problem solved.”  Eleonore replied blithely as if it were nothing to completely meddle in a person’s mind.  Tom wondered what John, the Police Officer, thought of such techniques.  Memory manipulation of innocent civilians, entrapment and trickery it sounded too much like the sort of things forces were accused  of during his time in Afghanistan. Not for the first time Tom realised that no matter how appealing it seemed, the magical world may not be where he wanted to be.

“I can see you’re still tired, we better go and let you rest.” Eleonore lifted her chubby boy with a groan.
“Beddy time.”  Nathaniel supported his mother’s statement in all seriousness.
“Could you get in touch with my family, let them know I’m all right?”  Tom asked as they went to leave.
“I don’t know, Tom.”  She hugged Nathaniel and he squirmed at the restraint.  “Mr Weasley let them know, I don’t really feel…”
“Please, Eleonore.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”

That brought on tears and Sen buried her sobbing face into his chest.  Tom wrapped his arms around Sen and just lay contented there on the grass.
“Sir?” Came a voice from the greenhouse.  It was the teacher, a short round woman of middle age who’s frizzy grey hair stuck out from under a battered witches hat. “Can I help you at all?”

Tom laughed at his own ridiculous position.  It was the first time in weeks and it felt good.
“You may have to help me up.”

Sen scrambled up, confusion crumpling her tiny face as she help Tom back onto his unsteady feet.  He thought he saw something else on Sen’s face, maybe a little fear?
“What is it, Sen?”
“You’re hurt.”  She stated as if it were the most impossible notion she’d ever heard.
“Yes, that’s why I couldn’t come back to you straight away, I was hurt in a fight with some bad wizards.”

Sen stepped back a pace or two, Tom was sure he could read fear in her dark eyes now.
“Did you think I couldn’t be hurt?”
She nodded.
“Why?”

“You didn’t before.”

They walked in silence, Tom unsure how to deal with Sen’s fears.  It was in silence they came across a memorial down at the lakeside.  A white marble tomb surrounded on one side by black monoliths engraved with names.  On the tomb was the inscription:

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
1881 – 1996
A champion of commoners, of Muggle-borns and Muggles.

He limped from the tomb to the black stone slabs and found that they were a memorial to those who had died at the Battle of Hogwarts only one year after the great man had died.  In a sort of dream he scanned the names, surprised to see a Weasley listed and remembered George’s brother had also died here.  Even though he knew it would be there, even though we was expecting, looking for it, seeing Will’s name engraved into the black stone was a shock.  Confirmation that his brother no longer existed in this world except as a memory.

Tom turned back to the tomb of Dumbledore and wondered how much of what that man fought for still existed.  The school was still here in it’s currently modified form.  Those like the Weasley’s who believed as Dumbledore did still fought as champions of commoners, of Muggleborns and Muggles and the new unit was a direct result of those efforts.  Will would have wanted to be part of the Muddies and Tom figured that Dumbledore would have approved of it. While the unit and groups like it continued the good work, could they truly be considered gone?

While Tom was deep in his own thoughts, Sen sat at the foot of the white tomb and traced Dumbledore’s name with her finger.
“Do you know who this is, Sen?”  Tom asked ask he leaned against the smooth surface of the tomb and slid down to sit beside her.
She nodded, “Dumbledore. Headmaster ‘ere.  Hagrid says he was a great man.”
“Yes, even I’ve heard of Dumbledore, he was famous.  Go to that black slab, the third one, and see if you can find William Edward Green.”

Sen got up and did as she was told as Tom sat leaning against Dumbledore’s tomb and contemplated what he would say next.  Soon he could hear Sen reading out the names until she got to Will’s.

“Do you know who that is?”
“You told Hagrid you had a brother called Will.”  She commented  and Tom was surprised he had remembered that conversation in the carriage that seemed so long ago.
“Yes, my brother.  Not famous like Dumbledore but they are both dead.  All these people listed here are dead.”

Sen walked around the monoliths in silence.  Tom couldn’t see her, but he could hear her footfall on the grass.

“They didn’t want to die, but they did.”

Sen walked back to where Tom sat and looked down at him, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“So why did they?  Why didn’t they run away and hide?”  She berated the monoliths as if arguing with her own parents.
“Because they were fighting for something they believed in, something that needed fixing.  Your parents fought for you and because you are here today I know they won.”

Sen’s face screwed up her grief too much for her tiny body.  She fell into Tom’s arms as she sobbed until she couldn’t breath and had to take shuddering gulps of air.
“I want to be dead.”
“No Sen.  I know you feel that way, but while you live, so do your parents.  Like these people here, while people continue to fight for what’s right they will never really die.  While there are people to remember.”

They sat there as the late spring light drained out across the lawn in front of the castle.  Sen’s cry faded into tiny sobs and sighs and eventually to slow regular breathing.  She had fallen asleep in Tom’s arms.  Loathed to wake her but knowing he could not have carried her Tom shook her awake and got both of them to their feet.  She was quiet, thoughtfully sombre as opposed to her belligerent self, as they walked up to the castle.  People were filing out of the Great Hall just off the foyer, one of them Hagrid.

Tom smiled sadly and shook his head.  Another lost soul.  Hagrid wasn’t lying when he said that Hogwarts was full of them.

“Could we speak privately for a moment?”  He asked Gage.  Instantly the dozens of other house-elves including Winky disappeared and the kitchens were deserted except for Gage, Tom and Sen.
“Er…right.  Do you want to help Winky?”
“Yes, sir but she’s…”
“Yes, I know disgraced.  Well, you can think of me as her punishment if you like.  I want you to do exactly as I ask.  To start with feel free to speak badly of me and make her hate me…”

With each word Gage was become more agitated, nervously twisting the tea-towel that covered him into knots until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I couldn’t possible, sir.  A house-elf’s only reason to exist is to serve their masters.  To slander a master…”
“Ah, but you see, I’m not one of the master am I, I’m just a dumb muggle.”

The paradox of a individual, not a master, working in the roll of a master was taking it’s toll on old Gage.  His ears swizzled this way and that trying to make sense of what seemed to him to be contradictory information.
“Look, Gage.  Just follow my lead you can do that can’t you?”

Relief swept over the house-elf’s  entire body and he seemed to sag into his usual confident pose.
“Yes, of course sir.  Whatever you say, sir.”

Winky and the rest of the house-elves were recalled back to the kitchen with a wave of Gage’s nimble hands.  Winky was back at her place at the fire cowering this time behind her stool. Tom though he could detect a little anger in her large brown eyes.  Good, he needed it.

“Winky, get up, stand up here, come on.”  He bullied Winky to stand in front of the dozens of other house-elves that stood silently in a ring around them.
“Do you think it’s right that you should sit around while the rest of your kind work hard to make Hogwart’s a place fit for wizard habitation?”
Winky starting sliding to the floor again, crumpling under her own depression.  Tom grabbed her arm and physically pulled her back to her feet to the shocked of everyone watching including Sen.
“Do you?”
“No-no, sir.”  She wailed.  Tom shook the wailing out of her and once again put her back on her feet.
“Neither do I.  I’ve seen soldier’s like you, lazy pieces of nonsense that think they world owes them something.  Well it doesn’t!”  He roared and once again the house-eves listening all shook their head and complained amongst themselves how badly he was treating poor famililess Winky.
“I’ve whipped them into to soldiers and you’ll toe the house-elf line or die trying is that understood, Winky?
Her knees buckled and she feel once more to the ground in a howling pile of rags.  Tom once more pulled her up.
“Winky, I’m not leaving her tonight until I get an answer, do you understand?”
“Ye-e-e-es!”  She balled, baleful red-rimmed eyes flicking up to his defiantly.
Very Good, Tom thought and let her go to talk to Gage.

“Gage.  She is to clean herself up and make herself presentable. She is to be given twice as much work as the other house-elves and she is to be kept at it.  You may have to assign other house-elves to make sure she sticks at it, I don’t care.  She has to make up for her self-pitying laziness and disrespect to all house-elves.  I will be back tomorrow, and the next day and for as many days or weeks as it takes to make sure that my orders are being followed.”  He turned back to Winky who’s mouth hung open in horror.  “Don’t think this is going away, Winky .  People have tried to help you but you’ve failed them and yourself.  Now it’s my turn and I can tell you, I don’t walk away from a task once I’ve started.  You will do as you’re told or face me.  Understood!”

She nodded her head, ears flapping so they created a breeze and made the fire crackle angrily.  Without another word Tom stood and walked out with Sen following a few paces behind with her parcel of food.  When they were out of the kitchens and waking back to the foyer, Sen finally spoke.
“How come you was so mean to Winky?” Sen’s was angry, righteously angry and that too gladdened Tom’s heart.
“Sometimes you have to be mean when those you love do dumb things.  Your parents punished you when you did something wrong, didn’t they?”
“Well…yeah, but Winky hasn’t done anything wrong, she’s just sad.”
“She thinks she’s done something wrong and that because of it she doesn’t deserve to live.  You can understand that, can’t you Sen.”

That gave Sen pause as she thought of what they had talked about that afternoon.
“You didn’t yell at me though.”
“Well, sometimes people need hugs and sometimes people need a kick up the ar…bottom.”  The teaching of tough love to an eight year old was a new experience for Tom.  The usual jargon did not apply here.
“You won’t kick her though!?”  Sen was scandalised and Tom laughed.
“Not really.  I’ll make you a deal.  You can watch me help Winky and make sure I don’t do anything too mean, okay.”

This sounded suitably grown up and Sen agreed.  She led him back to the foyer where they parted for the night with a hug and a promise that he would be back in the morning.

Tom limped his weary way to Hogsmead his head full of thoughts and bewildered as to how he somehow acquired the responsibility for another life when he couldn’t seem to get his own into order.  He was at the outskirts of Hogsmead before he’d found an answer to that riddle.

The Three Broomsticks seemed fuller tonight, but it was really because Hagrid took up the room of a whole crowd that made it seem so. The proprietress, Rosmerta spotted Tom first and welcomed him back, tutting how thin and grey he looked and found him a large bowl of stew and a bottle of the butter beer that Tom had grown fond of on his last visit.

“You’re room is ready whenever you want it.  Not much call for it nowdays so stay as long as you like.”  Rosmerta gestured to the stairs leading up to where Tom would find his lodgings for the night.  Tom thanked her and took his food to where Hagrid sat alone looking out over the empty pub.

“Mind if I sit with you, Hagrid?”
“I’d be glad of de com’any.”  Hagrid sighed, “Not ta same a’ll this place.  Use to be ‘ard to get in some nights it being so crowded.”
Tom nodded and sipped the beer which took all the aches and pains of the day away.  He sighed contentedly and leaned back into his chair.
“Still go’ ta be ‘appy wit’ wot we got.  Lovely girl, Sen. She find ‘erself a meal den?”
“The house-elves were very generous.”  Tom had a thought, “Hagrid, you’re good with creatures.  What do you know about house-elves?”
Hagrid laughed loud enough to make dust fall from the rafters.  It was a truly happy sound and Tom couldn’t help but smile at it.
“‘ere that Rosmerta, ‘e asked wot I know ’bout house-elves.”  It seemed it was a good joke as Rosmerta joined in with her own happy laugh.  “Wot I don’t know ain’t worth worryin’ ’bout.”  Hagrid informed Tom.  Tom bought Hagrid another pint of the fire whisky he was drinking and settled back to learn about the life and culture of house-elves.

It was late the next morning when Tom could be found back in the common room eating breakfast.  The morning light streaming through the diamond paned windows and door warmed the white washed walls and bare wooden floor and filled Tom with a moments peace.  It had been late when Hagrid finally wandered back to Hogwarts after filling Tom’s head with all the knowledge he needed to help Winky .  A culture built upon service with a strict hierarchy was not that removed from the culture of the army that Tom was use to .  He was now more convinced than ever that he could help Winky and maybe find her a position where she could be of service to a family group once more.  It was while he was meandering through the plans in his head that the sunlight was broken by a presence walking in front of it.

Annoyed at the loss of the light Tom forgot his breakfast for a moment and saw standing before him the last person he expected to see.

“Good morning Eleonore, would you care for breakfast?”  She ignored his polite invitation to sit down, so Tom sighed at the loss of the sunlight and went back to his meal.
“I went to see your family yesterday.  They said you had come to see Sen.”
“And so I have.  Mum didn’t happen to give you…”
Eleonore picked a small overnight bag off the floor and dropped it on to the table in front of Tom.
“Excellent.  I can see why Mr Weasley has such faith in you, always thinking ahead.”
“Yes, and not because I’m good at chasing injured muggles all over the wizarding countryside.”  She scolded, but Tom was in too good a mood to be put off.  “How come you’re so chipper this morning, last time I saw you everyone was hiding the sharp objects in fear you’d do something drastic.”
“Blame it on good company last night, an excellent breakfast and the restoring power of the highland morning sunlight.”

It seemed, by the quizzical expression on Eleonore’s face, that his good mood was scaring her.  She changed the subject.
“Oh…good.  All ready to come back to the Ministry then.”  She stated expecting no argument.
“I have a few things I need to finish here and then, I don’t know, maybe I won’t be coming back to the Ministry.”
Now Eleonore did look worried.  Lines marred her usually smooth brown forcing strands of strawberry blond hair out of their usual neat french bun.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious, Eleonore.  My presence is a threat to the magical society it may be best if I disappear.”
“And what, go back to your nomadic existence with the army?”  She replied crossing her arms in front of her.  Tom shook his head.
“No, my injury makes me ineligible for active duty and so I will be seeking a medical discharge.”
“So what will you do with yourself, bum around the magical community making a muggle nuisance of yourself?”  she scoffed but soon realised that Tom, for all his lightheartedness that morning was in earnest.  “You are serious.  Tom, haven’t you seen your place is with the Muddies?  Mr Weasley has gone to a great deal of trouble to ensure your nature stays unknown.  He had the Fidelius Charm cast, not a small feat.  We had to get someone from the Department of Mysteries to perform it.”
“Fidelius Charm?”
“The secret is locked within the soul of a secret keeper.  It can never be revealed by anyone except the secret keeper themselves.”
“What? Surely those outside the Ministry can’t be affected.”
“Anyone and everyone.  If the Greches did tell their juicy gossip to someone else, that third party is now no longer able to spread it further.  They are, on the other hand, still able to act on that information themselves.”

It was Tom’s turn to scoff now.  A single spell that stops anyone telling a secret?

“Don’t believe me?  Give it a go, I’d like to see how the spell works on you.”  She replied smugly.
“Are you sure you want me to test this here?”
Eleonore’s answer was to sit down, a defiant spark lighting her pale green eyes.
“All right,” Tom took a breath and one last glance at Eleonore.  She waited expectantly.
“I am transpolar which means I reflect all spells cast on me.  This makes me immune to magic.”

The sensation was odd, sort of like being underwater.  He could hear the words being produced by his vocal chords, they reached his mouth as expected, but once they left his body they muffled and were incomprehensible.
“Nothing, just some mumbling that could be anything.”  She beamed, “The magic couldn’t stop you from saying it but it could stop me or anyone else hearing it.”
“How about writing?”
“Writing too, also code, picture-grams, semaphore, sign language, smoke signals any form of communication you can imagine.  Now you can see there is no reason why you shouldn’t come back except help us stop those who already know.”

It was a convincing demonstration but Tom’s head was too full of what he wanted to achieve that day to worry about the Ministry overly much.

“Perhaps.  Let me have time to think…”
“What’s to think?”  Eleonore was starting to sound worried about Tom’s intentions
“I just need time to work things out.  I’m not going anywhere, Eleonore, you’re family now, remember.”
“Hmmm, so you keep saying.”  She replied, a smirk showing her grudging pleasure at his words.

They sat in mutual silence.  Now that Eleonore was no longer blocking the sun, Tom had they light again and they both seemed to enjoy it’s warmth.  Tom finished his breakfast and Eleonore made an excuse to leave and get some “Real work done”.

Tom walked back to Hogwart’s with the intention of cornering Hagrid on one or two points from last night.  He found Sen and asked her direction on where Hagrid lived.  While they walked toward the dark border that was the start of the forest, Tom told Sen all the interesting things about House-elves he learnt the night before.  Sen was fascinated, especially as she had decided to take her role as Winky’s guardian seriously and wanted to do a good job.  She was asking questions about the use of irons by house-elves for self punishment when Tom’s attention was drawn to a collection of tents set up haphazardly along the edge of the forest.

“That’s where da families live.”  Sen informed Tom when he asked her, “The ones that got no other place ta go.”
“How long have they been here?”
“Longer dan me, some have bin here for more dan a year.”

Tom roamed his expert eye over the tent city and concern creased his brow.  Tents were piled up on each other while others were set apart, some were built on slopes that seemed ready to collapse the structure and still others were pitched inside the forest.  There seemed no order to the paths through the city and Tom’s nose could tell there was certainly no latrine system set up.  Water supplies seemed to be coming from the Lake, which was fine, but a brown stain on the land showed that waste was running back into it which was not.  If disease wasn’t already an issue it would  be by summer and the place must be almost impassable in winter.  Overall, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Forgetting all about Hagrid, Tom limped towards the tents unsure what he could do to but knowing something need to be.  People within the camp were not interested in hearing about picking up and moving. They’d had to move from one place to another for more than two years.  Tom sympathised with their need for stability but knew they would be facing something just as bad as civil war once cholera hit the camp.

“Sergeant Green.”  A woman’s voice called from behind and Tom turned from his current hopeless conversation to see Professor McGonagall stride up from the lake.  “It seems I cannot go anywhere today without you being mentioned.”  She looked frazzled and put upon.  Her usually thin lips had vanished into a disapproving pout, her eagle sharp eyes pinned him to the spot.
“Ah, good morning, Headmistress.”
“No it is not!.”  She barked, “Firstly, I get an early morning wake up call from Gage, the House-elf.  It seems that you have upset the entire house-elf staff and they’ve asked that you be banned from the kitchens.  How you’ve managed to upset house-elves I have no idea, but I will now have to ask you to stay away from the Hogwart’s kitchens from now on.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you…”
“Secondly, my Care of Magical Creatures teacher was in no condition for breakfast this morning.  It seems he spent the night talking with you at the Three Broomsticks.”
“Yes, I needed Hagrid’s expertise…”
“And then, after having to deal with angry mermaid who are complaining about run off from the refugee camp…”
“Ah, that’s not my fault…”
“No, yet here you are.  Sergeant Green, what have I done to deserve you?” Professor McGonagall glared at Tom and even though she was slightly shorter than him at least twenty years older he felt like a little kid.
“I am really sorry for my part in your distress, but I can help.”
“Help, Sergeant Green.  Yes, you can leave.”
“I mean about the tent city.  My background is in the army working directly with refugees much like these people here.  I can set up the camp properly and reduce the run-off issue.  Let me make it up to you after causing you so much trouble.”

Professor McGonagall looked torn between wanting to kick this troublesome muggle off her school property and wanting to solve a  very serious issue.
“How quickly could you fix the situation?  I…I wouldn’t want to keep you from you duties with the Ministry.”
“It would go much faster with some magical assistance.”
“You have someone it mind?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.  Winky, the house-elf.”

A light of realisation dawned in McGonagall’s eyes and a small smile loosened her thin lips.
“I see.  Of course, being banned from the kitchens you will require you to have direct authority over Winky.”
“I’m afraid so, Headmistress.” Tom tried his best to look contrite.
“Gage!”  Professor Mcgonagall called out to the air. There was a pop, and Gage the house-elf stood beside her, eyeing Tom suspiciously.
“Winky is required for a task in the school grounds.  She is to be under the direct control of Sergeant Green for…”  She looked at Tom contemplating her words, “…as long as necessary.”

If Gage disagreed with this order he gave no sign of it.  He bowed low and disappeared.  A second later, Winky was standing in the bright sunlight, her eye slitted against the glare, her appearance markedly improved from last night.  Her old rags were gone, instead she wore an assortment of clean hand knitted articles from a woolly red hat with a pom pom on top to odd pairs of socks. What was more, she was sober, though obviously not enjoying the experience.

“You wants Winky?”  She squeaked, hunched over, cringing in fear of Tom.
“I do indeed.”  Tom said gruffly, “You have been assigned to me for as long as necessary.  You will follow my order now, is that understood?”
“Sir…yes, sir.”  She whined.

Tom outlined his plan based on his military experience and selected a site on flat ground further away from the lake.  He proposed a grid system with two wide main roads crossing in a plaza area in the centre for communal gathering.  Latrines were to be placed furthest away from the lake preferable in clay soil to minimise run off back to the lake and a system to bring water to the tent city would need to be established.

When the Headmistress had heard the plan she was pleased and left Tom, Winky and Sen to put it into action.  Winky on the other hand dragged her feet as if every task seemed to be a serious effort.

“Winky, come here.”  Tom barked from a vantage point overlooking both the old and new camp sites.  Winky did as she was told grudgingly.
“What do you see in the camp down there, Winky?”
“Proper magical folk, sir.” Tom ignored the personal swipe and continued.
“Look closer, house-elf.  These people have nothing but what they are carrying.  Many have lost their entire families, people like Sen here.”  He gestured to Sen and the house-elf had the good grace to look embarrassed.  “In only a few weeks when the warm weather arrives these people will be threatened by more than just losing their homes, they will lose their lives to disease if we don’t do something about it right now!”

Winky’s eyes grew round at the responsibility of the task they were about.
“They need your best efforts if they are to survive, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Everything you tell me to.”
“More.  You are smart house-elf, I expect you to think of ways of improving on my plans, specifically I want you to think of a simple way to get water to the camp for the refugees to use.  Sen will help you while I inform the camp what’s to occur.”

The work required to build the camp was extensive and even with Winky’s magic, took all day.  Firstly, magically shuttling round pebbles from lakeside they cobbled up the two main streets, the largest called Via Principalis and the other split into two names, Via Praetoria and Via Dacumana and lined them each with larger stones also from the lake.  Where the streets intersected, Winky and Sen created a large basin from more river stones made water tight with house-elf magic.  This was filled by a magicked bucket that carted itself from the lake and back until the basin was full to the brim.  A grid work of smaller pebbles marked the space for each tent so there allowing enough room for guide ropes and for people to walk. Latrines were dug up under the forest canopy in heavy clay soil where any waste could be absorbed by the forest itself instead of running off into the lake.

When Tom gave the group of refugees a guided tour of the new site they were very please with what had been achieved in such a short time.  They seemed particularly pleased that the streets were named in the old language of magic, which Tom only knew as Latin but was happy to take credit for.  While Winky was away doing other work he asked some of the kids to say thank you to Winky personally and she seemed to glow in their praise.  It spurred her on to cultivate some land and plant a late spring crop of mangle-wurzles and other odd vegetables for the refugees to look after and enjoy.  That sealed the deal for the refugees who quickly returned to the old camp to pack up and move to the new site.  By nightfall there was a new tent city filling out the grid work of pebbles.  The refugees built a fire in a large cauldron in the main square and for the first time since having to leave their homes years ago, there was music and laughter.

Winky brought food and drink down from the castle kitchens which added to the party atmosphere, though Tom was very clear with Sen that Winky was to have no drink herself except the water from the new well.  Finally, Professor McGonagall came down to see the finished site and was very pleased with the work.  She thanked Tom who generously gave the credit for the hard work and clever ideas to his subordinates.  Sen smiled blithely and danced with the people of the tent city but Winky seemed to have change dramatically over the day.  She was exhausted, sitting on the edge of the well watching the fire and dancing.  But she seemed to have grown taller and her face seemed to have lost a lot of its careworn look.  The hard work had put a glow in her cheeks that had nothing to do with alcohol and for the first time in what Tom assumed had been a very while, a smile was to be found perpetually marking her entire face.

“Sergeant Green, I have a favour to ask.”  The Headmistress said after completing her tour of the site, “Hogwart’s is to commemorate an important event in a few weeks time, the second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.”
“An important memorial. I hope that I’ll be allowed back into Hogwarts to see it.”  Tom replied with a smile as was given one in return.
“On the contrary, I’d would like to ask you to organise it.  There are few who disagree with muggles being part of magical society, but many muggle families also lost loved ones at that battle, I would like this anniversary to be a muggle affair.”  A knowing look past between them and Tom knew she was referring to Will.
“I would be honoured, though I guess Mr Weasley may have other plans for me.  I really have been too long in getting back.”
“Actually, it was Arthur who suggested the idea to me.”  The Headmistress smiled cheekily and Tom saw the childlike side of the stony faced Professor of Hogwarts.
“Well then, I accept, on one condition.  There seems to be another group missing from this memorial.  Hagrid tells me that house-elves fought in  the Battle for Hogwarts.”
“Well yes, but…”
“Don’t you think they deserve to be remembered as well?”

Professor McGonagall looked over toward Winky curled up under a crocheted blanket at the base of the well, fast asleep.
“Yes, it seems that the smallest and weakest always get overlooked.” She sighed and turned back to Tom.
“I think we can do something about that.”

She did.

And thus the weeks progressed.  Winky did as she was told with little of her old whining.  In fact, Tom felt that she no longer felt sorry for herself, but resented the fact she was taking orders from a muggle .  Tom dealt with every sour look with a smile knowing she was improving under his authority.  What was causing him grief was his leg.   It never really healed completely, the Professor opinion being that the Dementor attack exacerbated the injury, but Tom wasn’t sure his reckless few days directly out of hospital had played a part.  He now rarely left the Hogwarts area only making one trip back to the muggle world to order a few items to help with his plans, to see his family and to formalise his resignation from the army.

After a long day of chasing up tradesmen and tailors, being interviewed by his superior officer as to why he was leaving a career in the army behind and checking in with the Muddies at the Ministry, Tom limped back to his parents house and flopped onto the lounge too exhausted to move further. He had always looked forward to some future retirement day with anticipation of being his own man spurring him on to new adventures.  In reality, signing the discharge paperwork only reinforced to him that he now had nowhere he belonged.  The darkness of depression rest heavily on him and there didn’t seem to be any point to moving further.

“Tom! You look a wreck.”
“Why thank you for the warm welcome home.”  He repied sarcastically, making his mother worry.
“I really don’t know why you men have to push yourselves so hard.”  With a word and a hand she got him to his feet. As she helped him climb the stairs to his room she mumbled about “…having so much to tell you too…”.  He wanted to ask about her exciting news but bed beckoned and he was asleep before she’d returned with a glass of water to take his painkillers and a soothing hot pack for his leg.

“Tom? Sen?  Wot ‘re ye doin’ in ‘ere?”  Hagrid’s distinctive accent came from the shadow outside the door and Tom lowered the frying pan.
“Hagrid!  There’s a giant!”  Tom said gesturing with the frying pan to somewhere outside.

“Oi!  Tom!” Hagrid calling his name made Tom started from his thoughts and he leavered himself stiffly to his feet.  As in reflection of those images of Tom’s mind, Hagrid now stomped around the lake side, the wooden frame strapped to his back with hairy yellow ropes, a shovel in one hand, a pick in the other. “Give us a hand would ya?” Hagrid puffed and Tom scrambled to oblige. They worked for several minutes in silence carefully lowering the crate from Hagrid’s back all the while Tom looking to Hagrid for any sign of his mood.  The usually open though heavily bearded face was inscrutable.

“You know ‘e fought on our side against de udda giants at the battle.”  Hagrid said quietly as they both stared at the crate and its shrouded contents.  Knowing that information did not make Tom feel any better.  Though he was a ally, knowing Grawp had personally killed fellow creatures made Tom’s irrational fear rational.  He didn’t know if he’d ever come to terms with his feelings about the giant, but he knew he owed it to Hagrid to try rebuild their relationship after the damaged he caused.

“Hagrid, I am sorry for the way I behaved, it was inexcusable, you deserve my humblest apology.”

Hagrid embarrased by Tom’s heartfelt words didn’t look at him, just kicked around the tools at his feet as if they were twigs.  “You don’t afta ‘plogise ta me, it’s only natural ta be ‘fraid of giants, maybe for you more than most.”

They stood in silence for a while both contemplating thoughts that were either too large or complicated to be given words.  Silently, Hagrid picked up the shovel and the pick and handed the later to Tom.  Tom took it gratefully and they set to work.  The job that would have taken the giant Grawp minutes to accomplish took Tom and Hagrid hours and they were both thoroughly filthy and exhausted at the end.  Hagrid went to perform his other duties and left  Tom sitting on the grass absentmindedly rubbing his injured leg.  He looked up at the new white marble memorial stone, it’s golden lettering gleaming in the midday sun, and made a decision.
“I think it’s time. Winky?” He said to the air and she appeared with a pop beside him, a harried look making her eyes bulge more than usual
“I have a job for you Winky.”  Tom stated blandly, trying not to smile.
“Yes sir.” She sighed wiping her brow with the back of her hand.
“Tell me what you think of that stone Hagrid and I just put up?”

Being asked for an opinion was not something that house-elves were use to  and Winky gave Tom a quizzical look.  He just stared back keeping his expression unreadable.  From his position on the ground Tom could see Winky’s curious expression dull as she read the engraving of more than two dozen names of Hogwart’s house-elves.  Her face then move smoothly though a myriad of emotions including surprise, shock, pleasure and even guilt.  Tom made to grab Winky as she looked as if she would punish herself against the stone at any moment.  To his relief, she just turned back to him, her overlarge brown eyes soft with tears.

“You did this for house-elves?”  She asked in an awed breathless voice.
“All who fight to protect their homes deserve to be remembered. I’m sorry I can only mention the few who ended up giving their lives.”  He replied gently in a way he been unable to before now.
“House-elves do not look for honour and glory.”  Winky replied mutinously and Tom felt that this was the cause of the guiltily expression.
“Very few of us do.  I know very few of those magicians of the other stones were looking for glory the night of the battle, they were just protecting their homes and families.”

Winky sagged and Tom guessed she was reminded that she had no home or family of her own.

“Winky, our time together is coming to an end.  You do good work, I was impressed how you looked after those people in the tent city.  You have been clever and resourceful in all the tasks I’ve asked from you. Mr Arthur Weasley of the Magical and Muggle Unified Defence Division in the Ministry of Magic has heard of your work and asked me to offer you an choice.  Either stay here at Hogwarts as you are or take up an opportunity.”
“Choice?”  Winky’s ears shot up in surprise, “Winky is to be given a choice, sir?”
“You said yourself that you are a free elf.  Freedom has it’s own burdens, one of those is choices.  Are you willing to listen to my suggestion?”

Winky’s face wrinkled in confusion as she tried to understand what was happening.
“You is not hurt or yell at Winky anymore?”  She asked timidly.
“If you take Mr Weasley’s offer you will be my co-worker and if I harm you in anyway I will have to answer to Mr Weasley himself.”
Winky smiled mischiefly at the thought.
“But Winky, ” Tom added, “You will be responsible for all the people who work for the division, you will need to look after them and keep them safe to the best of your abilities and…”  Tom paused to gain her full attention, “…you will need to keep their secrets.”

Again the ears flapped straight up in surprise, “Like with a family, sir?”
“Exactly like a family.  That’s what the Muddies are, one very unusual family.”

Winky’s ears were nodding before even the words came out of her mouth, “I would like to hear your Weasley’s offer.”  She said tentatively and Tom got to his feet.
“Walk with me Winky.”

The few hours before a big event can last for days or flash past in minutes.  Tom being busy overseeing the Memorial did not have time to spare for discussions on relativity, but when the thestral drawn carriage pulled up in front of the castle that afternoon he spotted several relatives who required his immediate attention.

For the first time in Hogwart’s history the Hogwart’s Express had been pressed into service transporting non-magical family members of those who’s loved ones had fought and died at the battle of Hogwarts.  He had been unable to meet them at the station, but Hagrid had been more than willing to chaperon the muggles into Hogwarts.  Tom could see him talking to his parents  and another elderly couple who shared their carriage.  Mr and Mrs Green waved at their son as Hagrid pointed him out and lead the entire group down the lawn.

House-elves and Hogwarts staff bustled everywhere finishing last minute tasks.  White chairs had been laid out in a semi circle in front of the tomb and memorials on a freshly mown patch of lawn.  A dais had been set up beside Dumbledore’s tomb and a speakers stand bearing the Hogwarts quartered crest place on top.  White flowers had been made to bloom, by the herbology teacher Professor Sprout, that morning edging a mown path from the castle to the site and around the chairs and memorials.

With a whistle and a wave he gained the attention of Sen and greeted his parents.  Both Mr and Mrs Green looked wide-eyes around the grounds of Hogwarts taking in all the sights that they had only ever heard about before.  Tom gave his mother a hug and shook his father’s hand before turning to the elderly couple with them.  Before he could introduce himself, a squeal went up from behind and the couple ignored Tom’s handshake and ran down the hill.  Sen was screaming her grandparents names running with her arms held wide until they finally met and embraces in a confusion of hugs and kisses and simultaneous words and lots of laughter.

Tom was stunned into silence.
“I told you I had a lot to tell you.” Beamed Mrs Green taking pleasure in her son’s astonishment.  “And you thought I was just chatting with my friends all day didn’t you, admit it.”
Tom denied the claims with a laugh a hug and a kiss, demanded the details of the story.
“There are a hundred and two phone numbers listed with the surname, Po.”  She started, taking her husband on one arm and her son on the other, “And I rang each and every one of them.  Unfortunately, none of the Po’s I talked to were Sen’s Grandparents. It seems they were unlisted.”
“But one of the Po’s you spoke to knew the Grandparents?”  Tom asked and earned himself a playful slap.  “You’re spoiling my story, but yes.  I spoke a Kevin Po in Warrickshire and told him about Sen and her parents.  He told that story to his family who then starting ringing distant relatives and sure enough, a second cousin of his grandfather was the Po we were looking for.  Sen’s Grandparents got in touch with me and…”  She pointing to the scene of reunion and gave both of her men a playful hug.
“Mum, you’re amazing! But why didn’t you call me, I could have let Sen know?”
Mrs Green pouted childishly, “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise, besides I think they’ll forgive me.”

“What could you possibly do that requires forgiveness Mrs Green.”  It was Eleonore who was walking up from the lake with Nathaniel in her arms.  She with the other Muddies had come in early to help with the service and had promised Tom that she would come and say hello to his parents.

Tom was surprise when Eleonore’s steps faltered as a look of concern past over her face as she stared at Mrs Green.  He glanced at his mother who’s face had lost all colour and who’s eyes were bulging, fixed on the tiny bundle that was Nathanial.

“He’s…Dan, can you see?”  She shook her husbands arm as the old man squinted at the baby squirming in his mother’s arms.  Releasing the arms of her men, Mrs Green stepped up to Eleonore and Nathaniel and reached her hand out to Nathaniel’s face.  The little boy, curious at this new stranger, grabbed her outstretched hand and promptly stuck her index finger in his mouth.  Mrs Green gasped and looked up into Eleonore’s eyes.
“It’s William, he looks just like William.”

Eleonore’s wide scared eyes caught Tom’s.  He nodded reassuringly as he pulled his father up to take a closer look at the baby.  Eleonore looked like she wanted to run away from this confrontation, but she really had nowhere to go.
“Important you said, Tom.  She was very important to us, to Will.”  Tears were now streaming down Mrs Green’s face a deliriously happy smile on her face. “Oh yes, you are very important to us Miss Winterbottom, you’re one of the family.”

Eleonore’s usual perfectly controlled mask crumbled under the older woman’s unconditional acceptance.  She nodded her agreement and slowly passed the confused but delighted Nathaniel to his grandmother.
“Mum mum.”  He gurgled and the family laughed.
“Grandmother.”  Eleonore choked out through her own tears. “That’s a new word for him, Grandmother and Grandfather.”

It was hard to leave his family at this time, but Tom had a memorial to run and the special guest where starting to arrive.  A young couple only a few years out of school, were admiring the new memorial stone talking sociably with Winky .  The sight of seeing two magic-users holding a genuine conversation with the house-elf was heartening and as he walked past he took note of their conversation.

“It’s just wonderful, Winky, recognition for house-elves sacrifice after so long!”  The young woman with dark curly hair exclaimed. “It’s only the beginning.”
“And I like your hat too, Winky.”  The red headed man, who had to be another Weasley, said pointing to the pom pom hat that Winky habitually wore.
The young woman smiled at the young man and took his arm in her’s.

The Muddies and teachers of Hogwarts brought the guest together and Tom took his place on the Podium.  As he waited for silence he looked out at the crowd, the sea of faces picking out those of Sen and her grandparents, his parents and Eleonore.  He glanced across the sunset tinted water to where Grawp sat, the tiny form iof Hagrid in comparrison beside him.  A thrill of fear ran down Tom’s spine at the sight of Grawp but this time he was able to ignore it and bows the the figures across the water.  Grawp, with one meaty hand waves back in reply.

Taking a breath, Platoon Sergeant Thomas Green, late of the British Army turned to the crowd of expectant magical and non-magical people gathered.

“ Honoured guest, family and friends of the fallen, survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts.

This moment, this hour, this day, we dedicate to our dead.
Individuals, whose passing into the silent land, we will honour by ourselves becoming silent.

The minute silence we will observe is a tradition born in the non-magical world that allows those left behind to dwell upon a name, or a face or some small precious memory of those through their sacrifice can not be with us today.  For each of the fallen had a family and friends whose lives were enriched by their love and diminished by their loss.

And yet, although denied the full span of human existence, who can doubt their achievement.  These men, women, and elfs have given us a legacy on which to build our future society.  One not separated into magical or non-magical, pureblood or muggle born, human or humanoid but of one society that values the gifts of determination, of compassion and most of all, of service.

Our silence today is a promise to remember all who have been lost, to give thanks for their belief and commitment  and to demonstrate the value we place in their sacrifice.

While we still remember them, value their efforts and continue in the self same struggle they died for, can our loved ones really be said to be gone?  No.  They live on in our deeds, our trials and triumphs.  Today, by recognising both what has been lost to us and what has been gained, we declare, of all our fallen: They are not missing. They are here”.