SIYE Time:15:33 on 11th December 2024
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Category: Alternate Universe, Asylum Challenge (2013-3), Asylum Challenge (2013-3)
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 9
Summary: *** Winner of Most Sneakiness in the Asylum Challenge ***
It's a close call for Ginny. An extremely unlikely new acquaintance comes into Harry's and her life as a result. It's someone who needs to travel far, fast, and quietly...if she can get everyone to trust her enough to help.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5518
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.
Author's Notes: For those who haven't met him, Spenser is the narrator I created for an alternative take on the Harry/Ginny saga. His stories are always fun to write, and I hope you enjoy reading them as well. Thanks--Eric B.
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Have Wand, Will Travel
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“Always forgive your enemies–nothing annoys them so much”–Oscar Wilde
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I see Ginny across the village square. She’s maybe forty feet away from me. It might as well be forty miles for all the good it does either of us. Standing there in front of her are three robed men with wands drawn and pointed at my friend’s face.
The two on either side wear masks that I recognize from a sketch Mr. Weasley has shown me. Death Eaters he calls them. Ginny’s dad doesn’t describe them as people who are prone to help grandmothers cross busy streets, are kind to small puppies, or appreciate good fan fiction stories (let alone mine). The one in the center is tall, dark-haired, with sharp, chiseled features, and an extremely maniacal smile. I think so anyway. Ginny seems to know him. The Wizard knows her as well. He’s about to kill her.
We’ve come into Hogsmeade to acquire certain material we need for a racing broom our little group is building. Well…everyone else is building. I haven’t been allowed near tools since I had almost destroyed the Burrow with a flying bathtub and a Binford 5000 pneumatic nail gun. What I am good for is helping tote back supplies from the village shops. I’m loaded down just now with maybe a dozen packages…and so is Ginny.
We should have brought more people. More hands, more security, more eyes open for trouble…what were we thinking? “We’ll only be gone an hour,” Ginny tells Harry. “Ron has detention for those exploding pies. You’re dying to watch the House Quidditch practice. We’ll be careful. I promise.”
Careful isn’t jamming your wand in your back pocket so you can carry an extra jar or two of dragon wax Ginny. Careful isn’t sending me after three vats of Albanian cypress resin; splitting us up when I’m supposed to be watching your back.
The center Wizard’s arm stiffens. He’s about to hurl a killing curse. I’ve already dropped my load, and I’m running at the group. I haven’t gone three steps when small explosions erupt from the trio’s chests. They’re hurled backwards maybe half the distance between us. There’s no blood I can see as I pass them. They’re not dead, but I expect that they’ll be hating life for a few hours when they wake up in Azkaban.
I really don’t care. In fact, I’m only mildly curious about what has taken them down. I reach Ginny, grab the wand out of her pocket (a bit too roughly), and shove it into her now free hand.
“We will not tell Harry that I just grabbed at your tush!” I yell. “We’re in enough trouble as it is! Are you all right?!”
“No, we will not tell Harry you grabbed at my bum…or Luna either. What just happened?”
What has just happened? Ginny’s drops her parcels now as well. We’re scanning the area for what or who has saved her. Now, a minute too late, we have our wands at the ready.
“Oh my goodness! Did I just do that?”
The voice is just a whisper, but it still carries as if amplified. It drips of darkness. As we spin about, and bring our wands to bear, we see how the lone figure in front of us doesn’t match what we’re hearing. If the girl is five feet tall it’s only because she may have platform shoes on under her long skirt. Her black hair is tied back in a bun as if she’s auditioning to be a librarian, and describing her as anything other than a dowdy spinster would be a compliment worthy of my crazy imagination. She wears glasses that make Professor Trelawney’s look like contact lens. The girl, and my guess is that she’s not much older than Ginny or me, is also holding onto the most convoluted wand I’ve ever seen. It actually goes around in a loop. Mr. Ollivander must have been into the sherry that day.
“I really was just trying to disarm them. Honestly I was. Uncle Rabastan is really going to be angry.” No, the girl’s voice does not match her appearance. “Excuse me; may we go back inside this unicycle shop before someone sees…”
“Uncle Rabastan?!” Ginny screams. She apparently recognizes the name as she had the face. Our new acquaintance’s is being studied now as well. “You need to drop the wand…now!”
“Hmm? What? Oh, I do beg your pardon. I’m very sorry. Here you go. Maybe you should hold on to it for me. It really does tend to just make things explode when I use it. It’s the third wand I’ve purchased this year. They always curl around like that. I have no idea why. In fact, there’s a really humorous story about a tray of butter beer I tried…”
I almost want to hear what happened, but Ginny clearly doesn’t. She grabs the coiled wand from the girl’s hand, an arm then, and proceeds to drag her into the shop. My friend is not happy, regardless of the save we’d received. I go to retrieve our purchases lying around the square, reducing them in size as I should have done earlier. I’m more brain-dead than usual since it takes me the better part of a minute to notice that our earlier welcoming committee has disappeared off the Hogsmeade cobblestones. I make a beeline for the shop, shouting what I’ve seen…or no longer see outside. Ginny’s not interested.
“Who are you?! You’re a Death Eater!”
“No, no, no…I’m not! I promise I’m not!”
“Your name is Lestrange!” Ginny counters. Her ears are almost glowing. They are indeed smoking. This girl is not at all amused, and only curiosity is trumping an application of bats from someone’s nose. “You’re a Death Eater!”
“No! Really, I’m not. See! Look at my arm! There’s no mark here! I hate what my family does…the torture, the murder…the subrogation of Muggle baristas!”
I audibly gasp, and have to place a hand over my mouth at the horror!
“I do believe in our higher place in society…sort of. Purebloods deserve to rule…maybe. We deserve to… Oh bother! No I don’t believe any of that, especially suppressing the coffee vendors. That’s just plain wrong.”
“Amen!” I almost shout. Ginny gives me a nasty look. “Uhm…who are you again?”
“Who are you?” she counters. “You’re an American?”
“Guilty. I asked you first though.” The girl doesn’t seem to like me. I doubt that it’s from reading one of my short stories. To her credit, Ginny doesn’t appreciate this Lestrange person either. “Who are you?” I repeat.
“My full name is Reflexia Admonitia Malfeasance O’Hearthiness Rebecca Lestrange. You may call me Flexia. I need your help to run away. I need you to hide me. I need asylum. Now who are you? I already know Miss Ginny Weasley. I’ve come looking for her.”
“Flexia? No, we’ll call you Becky I think. This is Spenser…my boyfriend.”
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*****
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If I ever doubt Ginny being my good friend, I can just remember that she didn’t wait until I was sipping scalding hot coffee to drop the boyfriend bombshell. Harry and Ginny had broken up at Professor Dumbledore’s funeral, just as you read in volume six of his semi-biography. Harry and Ginny had come to their senses very, very quickly after being intensely miserable for several days. Harry and Ginny keep the fact that they’re back together a serious secret, especially since he’s come back to school for his seventh year (not what happens in the nice Muggle lady’s books. Alternative universe here folks). I’ve suddenly been enlisted to help perpetuate the lie and preserve the secret. She knows I understand. I don’t when Ginny tells me that she’ll need to explain the newest deception to Luna.
Becky Lestrange doesn’t strike me as the nicest person I’ve ever met. I’m fairly sure that she’s not the brightest. Ginny doesn’t need to say a word to tell me she agrees with both points. The librarian’s eerie, evil voice doesn’t help the scene. Maybe it’s a family genetic trait. Regardless, we have to give Becky the benefit of the doubt that she wants to defect. We add to a point to the statement.
“What is this place?” she asks. “Is that a public house downstairs? I’ve never been inside one before? Do they serve cranberry pumpkin juice?”
“Becky, you need to keep your voice down,” Ginny tells her. “We’ve brought you upstairs at the Hog’s Head. It’s safe for now, but Aberforth’s patience is limited. We’ve sent for…”
“Harry!” I say, before Ginny can. I loudly give him an “Ahem!” when he enters and starts to deliver a hug to Ginny. We’ve spent enough time working their scam where he’s able to see what we’re doing in front of the stranger. He’s suddenly just a concerned family friend with uncertain ties to the redhead.
“What is going on?” Hermione asks then as she steps into the small room.
She’s followed through the door by Ron and, not surprisingly, Luna. She’s my best friend. Harry and Ginny’s quick thinking and loud coughs interrupt my own embrace with my favorite blonde, and the girl is sharp enough to instantly fall into character.
“Can someone please tell us what is happening?” Harry asks for all the newcomers. “The village is already full of Aurors, and Moody would have my head if he knew we were here now. You were attacked?”
“We got the resin and the specialty brushes for the micro scrub on the broom’s thatch,” I offer without thinking.
“Brilliant! Is it the tacky grip, low-gloss…?”
“Please hush Ron!” Hermione almost growls at him. “Spenser, we are not interested in your shopping list. Oh…but did you find a copy of the pamphlet I wanted?”
Ginny reaches into a bag and retrieves the small paperback for our pet bookworm. “Bat Taming for Beginners by…Bruce Wayne?” she reads. “Hmm…no. Everyone, this is Becky…Lestrange.”
Naturally, Ginny’s words get a reaction from everyone; not the least of which comes from Harry. His wand is out and pointed at our guest’s head so quickly you would think I staged it for a dramatic scene in my story. It’s a tense moment. It’s a quiet moment. I hadn’t been with these people when Harry’s godfather had been killed at the Ministry. This girl’s family…aunt, cousin, whatever…had done the deed. Things could get ugly very quickly. Even Ginny, who had initiated this intervention, seems uncomfortable again.
Bless Luna. She walks up to Becky, scrunches her forehead as she studies the other girl’s face, finally nods, turns around…
“It will be fine. We can proceed now. We have to help her.” You can hear a pixie burp now. You could if we had a pixie, and if you could convince Aberforth to serve one a beer. Luna steps over to me. She whispers in my ear.
“Oh feldercarb! I was just grabbing her wand for her, not grabbing… How do you know these things Loony?”
“Excuse me, did you just call her…? No, please I need your help. I need to escape from my family. You can’t imagine what it’s like!” Becky is really crying now. I doubt that any of us have ever seen tiny wipers on eyeglasses this way. They barely kept up with the tears. “The lying, the deceit, the guilt, the Dark Lord’s foul breath…rancid garlic and anchovies. You would not believe what that man eats. Please, please help me! I won’t say that I want my life back. I’ve never had one in the first place.”
“Why should we believe you?” Harry asks. I…everyone trusts Luna’s assessment of Becky, but the question has to be asked.
“Because…because he told me that you would help me.” The tiny wipers aren’t working now. Becky has to remove and clean them with the edge of her skirt. “You’re his family Harry. He told me you would help me.”
“Family? I don’t have any… Oh no! Who told you that?”
“Your cousin Dudley. I’m his girlfriend. I’m carrying his baby.”
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*****
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It’s yet another surprise for a surprising day. Hermione takes advantage of the lull in the conversation to suggest a trip to the restroom…uhm, I mean loo with Lestrange. Ron, bless his bunions, follows a moment after they leave. He has his wand out, but a twist of the wrist hides it behind his arm. I close the door behind them, listen there, and then indicate to Harry that it’s safe to talk now. We all know that we only have a few minutes at best.
“There is no way that my fat cousin would go for that Witch…any Witch, let alone sleep with her!”
“I don’t suppose that the Hogsmeade apothecary would carry Muggle pregnancy tests,” I suggest. Harry seems to consider it, but Ginny is shaking her head.
“They don’t even carry aspirin there,” she explains. “We can’t take her to a Healer to verify it either. There’s especially too much risk in bringing a stranger, especially a Lestrange, into Hogwarts and to Madame Pomfrey. I also doubt that even Hermione knows how to apply a medical monitoring mist to confirm Becky’s condition.”
“So she may be lying to get our sympathy and help, and we can’t prove otherwise.” There’s understandable frustration in Harry’s voice. He’s shaking his head violently. “Luna, why do you feel she’s telling us the truth?”
“I really don’t know that she is Harry. I simply said that we have to help her. You really shouldn’t slap your face that way Harry. Spenser does that so much. It always looks so painful. What I meant was that if she is being honest about breaking away from her family, we may be her only chance. If she’s deceiving us then…”
“Then what?” Ginny asks. She’s looking at Harry for the answer.
“Then we need to still help her,” I answer instead. “You’re giving me your famous ‘Spenser, you’ve grown another head,’ look. I suggest getting her out of the country, and out of our hair as soon as possible. We’ll need help from the Order too.”
“Now I know you’ve gone over the edge,” Harry tells me. He doesn’t seriously mean that…probably. “At best we have until first classes tomorrow before the school discovers we’re away. The Order? We can’t involve them in this either. Why are you grinning like that? It’s scary.”
“Harry, I didn’t say which Order of the Phoenix did I?”
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*****
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“So where did you meet my cousin Dudley? Watch your step here Becky.”
“It was at a church social last spring. What is this place?”
“Dudley at a church event?! My aunt and uncle could barely get him to attend services at Christmas time. Hmm…?” Harry’s face goes dark. Maybe Lestrange notices, and she's slowly considering what to say next. “Becky, how did he…?”
“What is this place?” she asks again. Is the girl is trying to change the subject.
Harry walks on for almost a full minute in silence before he replies. His own questions must be welling up inside him. It’s to his credit that he’s still willing to stick to our plan. He does pause finally. He raises the fiery torch high above their heads as he examines her expression for insincerity. Harry can’t read her one way or another. He finally starts on again down the underground tunnel.
“We’re in Bennyhill Castle in southern England,” he tells her.
“Which city?”
“You don’t need to know that. You’re in the headquarters of a secret organization with which we’re affiliated. You don’t need to know their names; just that they’re going to help you leave the British Isles tonight.”
“You don’t trust me.” Lestrange doesn’t voice it as a question.
“Does Dudley still have his bushy mustache and the Van Dyke beard?”
“No Harry. He just has that long, pencil-thin mustache now. He waxes the thing far too much. It tickles when he kisses me. I really don’t like it, or those polyester suits he wears. When was the last time you saw your cousin?”
“It’s been quite a while,” Harry lies. She’s obviously doing so with him now. Unlike Uncle Vernon, Dudley couldn’t grow even a small mustache if his television remote depended on it. “We’re here.”
Holding up at an enormous door, Harry reaches out to a large knocker in the shape of bear’s head. He raps with it four times, and then takes a step backward, almost tripping over Becky who has been following too closely in the dark passageway. No more than ten seconds pass before the portal silently swings inward revealing a small, brightly lit chamber. At the door to greet them are Ginny and Luna. Behind them are the two aged members of the Order that we had arranged to join us.
“You made good time Harry,” Ginny tells him. She can see in his eyes that something is wrong. He doesn’t need to say a word. Ginny can somehow always feel what he does. “This is Rupert and Emma. Those aren’t they’re real names, you understand. We have very tight security. Those are the first two that occurred to them somehow.”
“The Dark Lord takes extreme safety precautions as well. Those who don’t follow them rarely have a second chance. Will your associates help me?”
“We will,” Rupert tells her.
“Our friend Spenser has gone on to inquire about magical transportation for you,” Ginny explains. “Where would you feel safe travelling away from your family? Where can we send you?”
“I don’t…trust your American classmate,” Becky slowly begins. “Dudley’s the only American Wizard I can rely on. I want to travel to his home in Florida. He’ll protect me.”
“Florida?!” Harry shouts at the Witch. “Wizard?! That’s enough! Dudley, my aunt, and my uncle are all Muggles. They live in Little Whinging, Surrey. My cousin was born there! He’s not American! What’s going on here?!”
Reflexia Lestrange can only stare and shake her head for several seconds. She’s at sea with Harry’s words, and doubly confused when Ron and Hermione deactivate their Chameleon Spells. Less complicated than Polyjuice Potion, the magic has still served its purpose allowing the temporary disguises.
“No! No, you’re lying! Wait! I’ve got a photograph of my Dudley here in my hand bag! You’ll see that I’m telling you the truth!” Pulling the small black and white out, Becky thrusts it forward as if it’s the binding evidence in a court case. Perhaps it is. “See! See! That’s really him!” she shouts in her still weird voice as the others gather around her. “You’ve got to help me get away from the Death Eaters! You’ve got to help me get to Dudley in Florida!”
Everyone takes just enough of a look at the picture to silently confirm that it’s not Dudley. At one time or another everyone except Luna had at least seen a Muggle picture of Harry’s relatives. No one recognizes the likeness of the strange American…no one that is except Luna.
“Oh sweet Merlin! I know him!” she tells her startled friends.
“You’re sure?” Ginny asks before anyone else can.
“Prematurely balding, ugly leisure suits, too many gold chains, brown teeth? Yes, that’s him. Oh...and he's not an American. Your eyesight really must be incredibly bad if you wanted to go out with him.” Lestrange can just stare at Luna, shaking her head again in denial. “I’m absolutely certain Becky. He and I have a history. Supposedly, in other realities, we’re actually married one day; we have twin boys. Here he’s just a fat, unpleasant…”
“No!” the girl screams. The Lestrange vocal cords make it almost sound like an off-key screech. She grabs large tuffs of her hair then, and, in the blink of an eye, Disapparates away.
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*****
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I return from London maybe thirty minutes after the scene I describe. Detailed explanations tell me why the long faces. We've allowed our suspicions, however justified, to interfere with our helping Becky escape her life and reunite with Luna’s old flame. For some reason, I’m not at all happy that she’d had one.
“Boyfriend?! When were you going to tell me about that Loony?!” The girl just grins back at me.
“He was never my boyfriend silly. He just wanted to be. I gave him donkey ears after the time he tried to grab my bum.”
“He what?! I’m going to rip out his… Oops!” Harry and I lock eyes. At least he’s smiling.
“Ginny finally told me Spense. I know it was an accident. You might want to hold off killing Rolf for Becky and their baby’s sake. Speaking of which…”
“Speaking of which Witch Harry?” Ron asks as he reenters the basement room. Hermione and he had gone upstairs into the Shrieking Shack to change out of the old people robes they’d been utilizing.
“Does anyone have an idea about where Becky may have gone after we scared her that way?” There’s just a tinge of panic in Ginny’s voice. “I can’t believe that she’d go home again after saving me from the three Death Eaters. Would she have gone back to the Hog’s Head? We told her it was safe there.”
“We told her it was safe,” Harry counters. “We pretended to Apparate with her to some strange castle. We created fake Order members since we couldn’t trust her with the identities of the real thing. We provide some elaborate operation to hide what we were trying to do. We didn’t trust her; we asked her to trust us; she discovers that everything, including my cousin, is a big lie. It’s no wonder she ran.”
“That’s it Harry! She was already running when she saved me in Hogsmeade.” Ginny looks over at me. She cocks her head. I understand. “We need to Apparate back to the village square right away.”
“You and Luna need to Side-Along-Apparate,” I correct. “You’re not licensed, and we’re pushing things as it is staying away from school so long.
Ginny smiles and takes Harry’s hand. I take Luna’s. A crack and a heartbeat later we’re standing in front of the same unicycle shop as that morning. Unfortunately, so are a half dozen Death Eaters engaged in a fierce duel with Moody, Remus, and two others I don’t know. They’re Order members I’ll assume. Surprise allows Ron and Harry to hurl a pair of Stupefy bolts. The two, with Hermione, move into line beside Remus. I can’t hear what Moody shouts at them. Seeing the paint curl up on the building beside him, I can imagine that the language is colorful. Ginny, Luna, and I run toward the store before he can direct any more expletives our way.
Something barely grazes the top of my head. I’m fine, but my favorite baseball hat is suddenly, literally toast. The girls and I whirl about and release our own magic. The Death Eater is now embedded in a second story wall thirty yards away.
“You would have done the same thing for us if it was the Harpies instead of your California Angels,” Ginny calls to me as we again move to the door.
Entering, we see the place is darker than the subterranean portion of the Shack we had borrowed. The only sound is a soft weeping from behind the front counter. Ginny motions for Luna and me to hold back a moment. She takes a few steps forward before she speaks.
“Becky? Becky please stand up. I really need to speak with you. I…I want to apologize to you. I need to explain.
The crying stops. The silence continues for perhaps a minute before we see the girl come to her feet there. Her hair is covered in spider webs. Her glasses are worse than they had been before. I have no idea how Becky can see through the tear stains. Even in the faint light of Ginny’s Lumos Spell we can see her shaking as she walks out to face us. Becky doesn’t seem to be able to speak. All that comes out are choking breaths.
“Becky we are so, so sorry. We didn’t trust you. We…we weren’t allowed to trust you.” Ginny reaches out and removes the other Witch’s glasses. There’s a handkerchief in her hand to clean them. “You may not have known. Sirius Black was Harry’s godfather. He was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“My…my cousin? I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t. I can see now that we misjudged you. You’re a good person Becky; more so since you’re trying to break away from Voldemort and your family. They followed you here to try and bring you home didn’t they?”
“This shop belonged to an old friend of my mother. He’s dead now. I didn’t think anyone knew about…” Becky doesn’t finish. She throws herself into Ginny’s arms, and begins to cry again. I step over, and hand my friend another clean, dry handkerchief.
Ginny breaks away at the sound of the store's door bells jingling. The girls and I instantly have our wands on it. It takes a moment for our eyes to readjust to the afternoon sunlight. Harry, Moody, and Remus are standing there. Straightaway Ginny is over and in Harry arms, clearly relieved that he’s all right. Becky’s giving me an odd look now.
“Are you sure that you’re her boyfriend Spenser?” she asks. There’s finally a smile there.
“Uhm, I guess that we’re trusting you a bit further Becky. Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Reflexia Lestrange.” Only someone with Remus’ and Moody’s cool class would refrain from an uncalled-for response to this strange revelation.
“Becky, these friends are the real associates Ron and Hermione pretended to be.” Ginny’s explanation did get a small reaction from the men this time. “Uncle Alastor, could you possible help us sneak Becky here out of Britain and to Miami Beach?”
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*****
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“Maestro, a little traveling music please!”–Jackie Gleason.
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It takes a full ten days to explain everything several times over, convince the right parties then, debrief Becky (a name she chooses to keep after we fake her death for her family), provide a thorough prenatal examination at St. Mungo’s, load her up with baby gifts, and transfer her through a magical portal gate to America. Our Bureau of Magic there helps her to hook up with Rolf. Seven months later they couple have twins; Lysander and Lorcan. Okay, some things are the same in our universe.
Scamander and Becky only stay together for maybe two years. She catches him making out with some bimbo on the private nudist beach he runs in southern Florida. We never learn why he tried to impersonate Dudley Dursley. An amateur boxing fan? The consensus of opinion among us is that it was to distance himself from Voldemort’s little circle by shifting attention to Harry's cousin. Maybe it was to avoid responsibility for a new baby or two.
The last we hear of Becky, she’s had eye surgery, worn braces for a short time, spent a small chunk of her divorce settlement on new clothes, a hairdresser, and a good speech pathologist to lose the cackle. She’s currently working at one of the shops at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando. No, it’s not in their wand store. Every time she picks one up, especially the Muggle imitations, it still curls around like a pretzel. You can take the Witch out of the Lestranges, but maybe you can’t completely…you know.
Mischief managed!
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