Chapter 15 Conversations

Patrick just laughed when Patrice told him what the twins had said. "They pranked Dumbledore," he said still chuckling. He explained what he thought had happened between laughs, because the more he tried to explain it the funnier he found it. Those boys were a riot.

"Oh," was all she said back, thinking it wasn't quite a funny as her husband was making it out.

"Come on," he said, putting his arm around her waist. "We have to get to the office, and our guests are leaving to go house hunting." He led her down the stairs, and into the living room, where their guests were arranged, sipping on some coffee.

"Breakfast first," she said, smiling at everyone, making them feel welcome.

"Okay, everyone, we're in the informal dining room today. Now that all the kids are all back at school, we don't need the large one," Patrick said, his arm still around his wife, and he turned and led the way to said room.

"This is such a beautiful house," Molly said for the hundredth time. She still marveled that muggles would have such extravagance. Everything was different, but it was all either functional or ascetically pleasing.

Arthur agreed with her, though he felt he would never feel comfortable around such wealth. He was a simple man, and liked to get his hand dirty, via hard work around the house.

Xeno simply followed. His thoughts were elsewhere.

"Thank you," Patrice answered as she always did. "It's been in Patrick's family for many generations. Oh, it's been redecorated many times, but the building is still the same."

"From what I understand, from the family tree we got at Gringotts, it was a 'squib' that built it. Our family was always very well to do, but we kept to ourselves," Patrick explained, sitting at the head of the table, and wait for breakfast to be served. "The Finch-Fletchleys, were not predominate in the wizard culture, not pure enough. They tended to marry 'muggleborns' or non-magicals."

"That's fascinating. what happened to them?" Molly asked, enthralled as she took the seat next to her husband. Xeno sat on the others side next to Patrice.

"They were killed off by one Dark Lord or another," Mr. Finch-Fletchley said, sipping his coffee. "It wasn't until only my many-greats grandfather was left, that the family disappeared from that world. He decided, since he had no magic, what you call a squib, to take what money was left, leaving enough behind to keep the vault open for dividends, and flee to the non-magical world. We've been in this house ever since."

"It still amazes me that all 'muggleborn' are descendant from wizarding families," Xeno said, complying articles in his head. He had already posted one, and now that he might have to start over, he was going to use the new chance to get the word out to whoever would listen. He still had subscribers from the other world, and hopefully would get new ones, so…

"Shocked us too," Patrick said, serving himself up some eggs that had just been placed on the table. "Eat up, everyone. We all have a busy day in front of us," he waved his fork in the general direction of the food.

That started everyone eating, making light conversations, and then parting for the day.

The kids were doing the same at Dags. The rumor mill was in full swing, they learned just how many families had got hit the night of Halloween. The Headmistress addressed the student body and expressed that there would be counselors to help those that needed to talk it through. Then she had to explain what a counselor was to those who didn't know. The counselors would be available during P.E., lunch, and after school until they were no longer needed. There would always be one on staff, but they had brought in a few more for this. The student simply had to tell their teacher, and a pass would be given. It a counselor was free.

Neville was the only one in their group who expressed that he would go. They all agreed with him, and the day moved on. Ginny and Ron didn't feel the need to talk about what happened, and Luna, well, she was Luna.

Harry thought he might talk to her father to get the slight girl to talk to someone, but he wasn't sure that the queer man would agree. Still, he had to try. There were too many times that Luna would just drift off. Never in class, but other times she would just space out, and it was worrying.

That night at the mansion, they were in the formal dining room again, when Patrick had a thought. He waited until dinner was over and pulled Arthur aside into one of the studies. There was a large desk, which Patrick ignored, and a few chairs around a small table, next to the fireplace. That's where he sat.

There was a minibar at the left wall, which was stocked with whiskey, rum and gin, and a few mixers. There was a small freezer that had crushed ice. And a few tumblers on the bar. No stools, just the bar.

"Arthur," he started, waving the man to sit in a comfortable wingback chair across from him, "whatever happened to Malfoy?"

"Last I heard, he was arrested. There are charges of attempted manslaughter, for him giving that book to Percy." Mr. Weasley frowned at the thought of how close two of his children had come to being killed. He gave a fleeting thought to what else might have happened, but mostly he worried about his kids.

"Is he being held in Gobhan Caraidean, or at the Ministry?"

"In town," Arthur confirmed. "It was the Gobhan Caraidean's… police that caught him and raided his home. Something called a search warrant, I think. It was signed by the Mayor. Anyway, they found many of the dark items I looked for in my raid and booked him right then and there. He protested, from what I heard, but they simply ported him into a cell, and are now making a case."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Gobhan Caraidean's court system is much different than the other one. You have no Wizengamot, and only one judge sits on trials," the confused man said, canting a questioning eyebrow towards Patrick.

"That is normal non-magical procedures," Mr. Finch-Fletchley confirmed. "Many times, there's a jury, which is compiled of normal citizens. They are usually sequestered, so that no one can threaten, or bribe, them," he explained as simply as he could. "It's up to them to determine guilt. We call it 'The judgment of his peers', though I have a feeling that Malfoy wouldn't agree that normal citizen are his peers. Still, if they find him guilty, he will sit in jail until the prison is ready. That should be in the next month or two. They have to train the prison guards."

"Not Dementors?" the redhead asked, a bit leery. He never liked the Dementors and found the practice of using them foul.

"No, normal humans, maybe a werewolf or vampire," Patrick said, making the other man sigh in relief.

"Strange, but effective," Arthur said, thinking hard on that. "Anyway, rumor has it that Malfoy did what he always does and tried to bribe the officers. From what I've heard, that just tacked one more charge to his crimes." He smiled viciously.

"And his family?" Patrick asked, knowing from what little word they got from that world, that many of the purebloods were suffering finically, especially since Gringotts pulled out.

"I don't know," Arthur replied honestly. "I haven't heard anything about them."

"Oh, I was hoping you could tell where that house elf, Dobby was. I want to talk to him and thank him for warning Harry. Not that it was needed, but the little guy took a great risk trying to help."

"Oh, well, I'll see what I can find out. It might just be that they need to sell things, and their house elves might be one of those things," the redhead man said, thinking on who he would ask about it. There was as Department for Magical Creatures in the new town, but they were quite different than the one at the Ministry. Still, he'd ask the man in charge to see what he could find out.

"Do they know what the book was?" came the next question. All he knew from the boys was that it was evil. However, he had a theory.

"I don't know. All I know is it was evil and had to do with You-Know-Who," Mr. Weasley said, frustrated. "They won't tell me anything. They keep saying it is above my paygrade. I understand, I really do, but it is infuriating that I am not being informed," he said, flexing his fist and releasing it. "It was my family that was in danger, I should be told what it was."

"Oh, I guess then that they won't tell me at all. I do agree that you should know, but, Arthur, what if it was something so evil that is should not be named at all?" Patrick said, thoughtfully.

"Oh, well, there are things that are like that in the magical world," Mr. Weasley conceded, feeling a bit better. Still, he wanted to know if it was one of those things.

"I don't truly know what it was, but I can speculate," Patrick said, looking at the other man and weighing his options. He nodded to himself and leaned forward. "Put up a privacy ward," he whispered.

Arthur looked at him inquiringly, and then did as asked.

"I think, and this is conjecture only, but I think it was a horcrux," he said quietly, even with the ward.

"Truly?" the aghast man asked, only knowing about them from his work at the Ministry. His old department had been attached to the DMLE, so he was informed at what they were, but only vaguely. He knew it was an object that contained part of someone's soul and how to identify one, but he didn't know how it was made, or how to destroy it. Standard procedure said, if one was found the DOM was to be called.

His face morphed in horror as he realized that the book was related to You-Know-

Who. His little girl had been talking to the Dark Lord. He felt faint, only to be brought around by Patrick's next words.

"Yes, I believe so. I'll tell you this, but it must go no further. Not even Patrice knows," the other man said, looking hard at the redhead, judging him.

"You have my word. I'll take a vow if I must. But my Occlumency is okay, and I can shore it up for this," Mr. Weasley said, standing and going to the bar. He poured himself a stiff one, not as good as Ogden's, but it would do. He offered Patrick one, and the man nodded. Ignoring the fact that Arthur was making himself at home.

"Your vow is not needed, and Harry told me what Occlumency is, so I will take you at your word. I am trusting you with this," Patrick said, still weighing if he was doing the right thing.

Arthur seeing him falter, took a vow of silence for anything spoke of in that room. Molly didn't need to know this information, she'd just fret.

"Harry had one in his forehead," Mr. Finch-Fletchley said, then downing the glass he had just been handed. He, like Arthur, only had the vaguest idea of what one was, but he still shuddered at the thought that little Harry had to have one removed.

"Oh, that poor boy," Arthur said, his eyes wide. That news was just as horrifying as Ginny chatting to the evil man. "I wonder if Dumbledore knew?" he asked no one. That would explain the man's fascination with the boy.

"I don't know, but I am leaning towards yes," Patrick sniffed. He had no love for the old man, or any that followed him.

"Yes, I too have been doubting many things that Albus has done. I didn't like the fact that he tried to have the twins 'recruit' Harry, nor that he wanted to keep Ron and Ginny at Hogwarts. He knows we are not rich, and that a free school would benefit us. What he wanted the twins to do is not something you put on children," the redhead grumbled, getting more whiskey.

Patrick held up his hand that he didn't want anymore. He wasn't a heavy drinker, though he felt the other man wasn't either. However, Arthur had had a few bad days, so he let him be.

"I don't even want to hypothesize as to what goes on in Dumbledore's mind. So, we'll drop that topic for now. Any luck finding a house?" he asked instead.

Mr. Weasley sighed, downed his last drink, set the glass down on the minibar and moved back to his chair. "There are many wonderful houses in Gobhan Caraidean, but they really don't call to me. I think, I am just to use to the Burrow," he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Molly, on the other hand, is giddy over many of them. I am doing my best to keep her in our budget." He grinned at his wife's enthusiasm.

"Women have good taste, at least it's best to let them think that. I am a simple man, so I let my wife dictate the house," Patrick said with a fond smile.

"Too true, my friend, too true," the other man agreed, relaxing for the first time in days.

The two men talked well into the night, until their significant others came to find them. They all went to bed happy and slept well that night.

That same night, after dinner Harry went to Mr. Lovegood. "Mr. Lovegood, can I talk to you a moment?" he asked, a bit nervous about what he was going to say. "Alone," he added, giving Luna an apologetic smile.

"Of course, Harry," Xeno said, gently nudging his daughter towards Justin, and the two youngest Weasleys. Neville was with Patrice, visiting his gran. They had left right after dinner. Mrs. Weasley was chatting with the cook over what had been served for dinner.

Harry led the way to a different study, this one didn't have a bar, instead it had bookcases. Xeno wandered over to the books and read the titles.

"Mr. Lovegood?" Harry said, sitting in a chair by the wall. "I wanted to ask you something, that might be too personal," he said, waiting for the man to pay attention.

"Oh, well, I will answer if I think it's important enough, but if it is too personal I won't. I'm sure you understand," Luna's dad said, taking the chair behind the desk and marveling at the knick-knacks that were scattered all over the desk.

"Of course, I don't want to pry, but I'm worried about Luna. Did she see her mum die?" Harry said, swallowing his nerves.

"My Ladybug?" the man finally looked up from his perusal. "Yes, she did. It was quite traumatic for her. Why?" he was genuinely confused. As far as he could tell, she was fine. His little girl had nightmares for weeks, but she seemed to get over them.

"I think, and I'm sorry to say this, but I think she's losing touch with reality," Harry put forward as gently as he could. "I mean, I know she's a great girl and all, but sometimes, she seems to drift off. Our school is offering counseling, and I think she might benefit from it," he hurried on, not wanting to offend the man, but he really wanted to help. Luna was his friend.

"Drifting off, you say. Why yes, she does tend to do that, but I'm not sure this is a bad thing," Xeno said, rubbing his chin in thought. Thinking about all the times Luna seemed lost to the world. But it only lasted a few moments, then she would smile her dreamy smile, and all was right with the world.

"Okay, but as far as I know, she lost her mum, and she almost lost you. When that happened, she just closed up," the boy said, hoping to get the man to listen. "We can't get more than two words out of her a day, that make sense anyway," he added.

"Did she? Hmm, perhaps you are on to something," the older man said, looking at the concern on the child's face. "What is counseling?" he asked, folding his hands on the desk and not looking away from the nervous boy.

"Well, let me see if I can explain. I've never been to one you see. It's like talking to a person who is trained to help you feel better about yourself and the world around you. I mean, I think, they give you advise on how to handle problems, like grief, fear, and other things. Like that, you see?" Harry asked, his brow wrinkled as he tried to find the right words.

"Interesting," Mr. Lovegood said, thinking hard on what the boy was trying to convey. "From what I know of your childhood, perhaps you can see one as well. It might make my Ladybug a bit more receptive."

"Oh, I never thought of that. I'll talk to Mr. Finch-Fletchley," Harry said, agreeing that maybe it would do him some good.

"Do you think I can meet one?" he inquired, very intrigued by this notion.

"I don't know. I mean, I guess so. You'd have to call the school and find out, or call St. Bridget's," Harry answered, excited that the man was listening to him.

"Then that is what I'll do. Thank you, Mr. Potter, I will do that, yes," Mr. Lovegood said drifting off in thought, making Harry think this man might benefit from counseling as well.

Seeing as Xeno's attention was gone, Harry left the room feeling good about himself. He whistled a merry tune and went to find his friends.