Birds of a Feather
Chapter 25: Elf Appreciation Day
Summary: After Fawkes rescues Severus Snape from the Shrieking shack, the phoenix decides to stick around.
The usual disclaimer applies. See Chapter 1.
Armstrong caught up with Severus in the hall outside the library. "Today is Elf Appreciation Day," he announced. "We're celebrating the renewal of their contract. We're having a barbecue this afternoon, and we want you guys to join us. We're hoping it will cheer the students up a bit," he added. "This morning Mr Cohen told them about the Dementor attacks, and the truth about what happened to Greenly and French. They're all pretty upset."
"It's best to tell them the truth, even if it's distressing," Severus said coldly. He couldn't help thinking of Albus for a moment. "But what kind of contract do your elves have?" He'd never heard of an elf contract, but he didn't know much about elves, even though they'd been a great help to him when he was Headmaster.
"Well, back when America was being settled, a lot of wizard families brought their house-elves with them from Europe," Armstrong said, "but after the Civil War, they decided that it was wrong to own them and they passed the Smiles-Crumley Act of 1867, which made elf ownership illegal. After that, a few of the more adventurous elves went out west and signed on as cooks for the cattle drives. It's said they revolutionized chuckwagon cooking by introducing new kinds of beans. A few others became cooks in the gold rush towns. Most, though, preferred the traditional role and opted to continue with their families by becoming employees instead of property. Today, families and organizations make contracts with their house-elves. That's what we do here at the school," he added proudly.
"It's mostly a formality, of course. The elves are very happy here with us, and we're very happy with them, but it's the custom to renew the contract every year. We make sure the elves get proper salaries and benefits, but the thing they like most is being appreciated, so every year after classes have started, we hold a barbecue in their honor. We really do appreciate them. They're a great bunch, and I don't know what we'd do without them."
The same was true at Hogwarts; Severus couldn't imagine trying to run the place without elves.
"Come on," Armstrong said. He almost clapped Severus on the shoulder, but then he thought better of it. "Let's go find Kat and the others. Everything's set up out in the back courtyard, and the elves have started cooking. Let's bring Fawkes, too. The kids would love a chance to see a real phoenix."
~~~~~
When Severus entered the infirmary, Darkness and Mysteria were watching the video player and arguing with the nurse. They were both dressed in white housecoats and infirmary pajamas, and Fawkes was sitting on the back of the couch between them. Alvin, Mysteria's tarantula, sat on her shoulder.
"We're not well enough to leave yet," Mysteria announced. "We need some more chocolate."
The nurse looked exasperated. As she turned and left the room, the video player emitted a loud 'twang' followed by a crash.
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Feeling better, are we?" he asked. He marched over to look at the screen and saw a stunned-looking cartoon coyote peering out from under a fallen anvil. A cartoon bird stuck its tongue out rapidly, said "Beep! Beep!" and ran off down the road.
Fawkes chirped "Beep! Beep!" and cackled happily.
"Mr Slade! You've come to see us!" Darkness said, grinning at him. Her mouth was smeared with chocolate.
Severus bristled. "I'm looking for Fawkes," he said sternly. "He's been invited to a barbecue."
"The barbecue?" Mysteria said. "I forgot all about that! We'd better get changed." She pointed a little box at the video player and the screen went black.
"Where'd she put our clothes?" Darkness asked. "These rags are, like, totally boring."
As Severus left the infirmary with Fawkes flying ahead of him, the nurse whispered, "Thank you!"
~~~~~
The smell of smoke and barbeque sauce rose into the air as the elves busied themselves over the charcoal fires. Since the barbeque was in their honor, they insisted on doing all the cooking themselves. It was a point of honor with them.
"I think they believe that all wizards are incompetent," Armstrong said.
Severus nodded. "In most cases, they'd be right."
The students were milling around, waiting for things to get started, so Armstrong called them over to see Fawkes, who had obligingly settled on a low-hanging tree branch where they could all admire him.
"That's right," he said as the students gathered around, "this is Fawkes, and he's a real phoenix. They're extremely rare. In fact, he is the first one that I've ever seen."
The children craned their necks trying to get a better look.
"Do you see how the feathers on his body are iridescent? They vary from scarlet to crimson to reddish purple, depending how the light strikes them. There are blue-green phoenixes, too, or so the legends say. Full-grown phoenixes, like Fawkes here, are about as big as swans, and they have a wingspan of almost 10 feet."
Fawkes didn't understand what Armstrong was saying, but he could see that the man was pointing to his wings, so he obligingly spread them, eliciting a chorus of ooohs and aaaahs from the children. Some of them brought out cameras and snapped pictures.
"He really is beautiful!" Angie said, as she and Kat watched from the back of the group.
"That bird is the world's biggest ham," Kat said, chuckling.
"Note the feathers on the undersides of his wings," Armstrong added. "They're bright yellow, just like those long feathers on the crown of his head, and the ones over his eyes and in the center of his tail."
Fawkes folded his wings and looked down at the students. Cute little fledglings, he thought as they chattered happily below him. They love me! I wish Albus had showed me to the little ones at Hogwarts like this, but he was always too busy.
"Now I'm sure you've all heard how phoenixes live for millennia," Armstrong continued. "When old age catches up with one or it suffers an accident, it bursts into flames, and then it's reborn from its ashes as a healthy chick. Fawkes has probably done this many times. Imagine all the marvels that he's probably seen throughout history. He might have travelled with Marco Polo, or sailed with Columbus. Why, he was probably there when they built Stonehenge!"
"Look at his claws!" one boy shouted. "They look like they're made of gold! So does his beak!"
"Yes, and they're as sharp as daggers," Armstrong said, "so you must always treat him with the greatest respect."
"Yeah," Darkness interjected, "you should have seen him rip into that Dementor thing!"
"He was, like, totally awesome!" Mysteria added. Both girls were once again dressed in their favorite tasteless ensembles.
Armstrong went on to lecture about the healing powers of phoenix tears, the power of phoenix feathers in wands, and the use of phoenix droppings in medicinal potions. He continued until the elves began sending platters of food to the tables.
Fawkes flew over to inspect the spread. The steaks, ribs, and pork chops did not interest him, and neither did the ears of corn that had been roasted in the husk, or the baked potatoes wrapped in tinfoil. Coleslaw? No. Potato salad? No. Jello salad? Absolutely not! Where were the cakes and pies? He flew off to raid the kitchen.
Severus, Kat and Angie joined the faculty members, and after the students had settled in at the picnic tables and the hubbub had finally died down, Mr Cohen stood up and welcomed everyone to the Elf Appreciation Barbecue.
"We're all here to show our elves how much they mean to us," he said as the elves gathered in front of the group, all dressed neatly in their official Southern school tea-towels. Everyone clapped, and the elves bowed and curtseyed repeatedly, which made their big ears flap like bird wings.
Cohen showered them with praise for at least five minutes, and finally he announced, "This year, we have a special treat for everyone! The second-year students are going to start the festivities with a song that they wrote for the elves."
The elves quivered with excitement, but Severus scowled. This did not sound promising.
Assembling in front of the elves, the children began to sing:
"Thank you, thank you, little elves;
We want to thank you all ourselves;
We know you're there behind the scenes;
You make us feel like kings and queens!"
Severus grimaced and cast the Gossypium charm on himself to block his hearing. He'd developed that spell after enduring things like the Valentine's Day nonsense that Lockhart had instigated during his disastrous year at Hogwarts. It came in handy on occasions like those, and it had been too bad that he hadn't dared to use it during the Dark Lord's interminable speeches.
The children continued singing:
"Thank you so much, little elves;
You're all wonderful, yourselves;
We love it when you wash our jeans;
You fry our eggs and bake our beans!"
It was obvious that the elves loved it. They tilted their ears forward to catch every note, and they clapped happily when the children had finished. Everyone else clapped too, possibly because they were glad it was over.
~~~~~
Barbarous! thought Severus as he watched Armstrong gnawing on a barbequed rib. Then Angie grabbed an ear of corn, ripped off the husk, smeared it with butter, and started chewing the kernels directly off the cob. Just like some tribe of Paleolithic hunters celebrating a big kill! Severus was not going to sink to that level. Selecting a small ear of corn, he vanished the husk and charmed the kernels loose so that they fell into a neat pile on his plate beside his steak. Kat offered him a can of ice-cold Magic Dew, but he turned it down in favor of some ice water. He'd tried a sip of that abominable canned 'iced tea' that some of them liked, and it was all could do to keep himself from spitting the sickeningly sweet concoction across the table.
"Mind if I join you?" someone asked, and Severus turned to see 'Doctor' Proctor, the old man from the boat works who looked after the Muggle Mobile. "The wife's away visitin' the great great grandchildren in California, so I thought I'd do a bit of visitin' myself." He took a seat at the end of the table and helped himself to a steak and some potato salad.
"Good to see ya, Doc," Kat said. He and Angie had been arguing about Saunders. The young agent had stayed in his room, saying that he didn't feel well.
"The Dementors have a really strong effect on him, that's all," Angie said. "He just needs some time. He'll be okay."
"That's the problem," Kat said. "He's too sensitive. It's too bad that he came back. He's going to get somebody killed, and it could be you."
"He's just trying to face his fears," Angie said defensively. "I think he had some bad experiences in his past, and he's trying to get over them."
"Kat's right," Severus said harshly. "He's endangering people." Thanks to Legilimency, Severus knew what had happened to Saunders, but he had no confidence that the young man would ever learn to cope with it. The kid was drowning in his terrible past.
"I think he may be pushing himself a bit too hard," Proctor said thoughtfully. "You can't force these things. If it's something really bad, you never truly get over it, but with time, you get better at livin' with it." The old man popped open a can of Magic Dew. "Maybe I should have coffee with him sometime," he continued. "I've seen a lot of things, both good and bad, in my long life, and I seem to have a knack for helping people put things into perspective."
"Is it true that you're two hundred years old, like everybody says?" Angie asked.
"No, I'm not quite that old," Proctor said laughing. "But almost. I came here from a village in Africa - Proctor wasn't my name back then; I borrowed it after I got here so I could blend in better - when I heard about the Civil War. I was a foolish young hothead back then, and I thought I could come over here and win it single handedly, free the slaves, and make everything right." He paused for a moment. "It would be fair to say that I did not understand the magnitude of the problem."
A hush fell over their table. Of course he would have been there then. Most of them realized that, but no one had ever had the courage to ask him about it. It was a very sensitive topic, but the old man continued his story as if he were oblivious to that fact.
"There were powerful wizards on both sides, as well as hundreds of thousands of muggles," he said, "and when I got here on my flying carpet, I jumped right in, fool that I was. It was shocking. Horrible. The world had never seen killing on such a huge scale before, and it went on for years. Took me a long, long time to get over it. But let's not speak of such unpleasant things at such a nice picnic." He reached for the coleslaw. "Anybody else want some of this?" he asked.
Yes, I'm sure that would take quite a long time, Severus thought, but it appeared that the old man had managed to do it. Severus's own past was beginning to feel a little bit more remote now, like he was starting to wake up from a very bad dream. Especially here, relaxing at a picnic, surrounded by interesting companions. But his close call with the Dementor had reminded him that the old emotions were still there, lurking in the back of his mind. He needed to let go of his past, of all the guilt and pain and resentment, but that was easier said than done. For a moment, he almost felt a touch of sympathy for Saunders, but he quickly pushed that thought away.
~~~~~
The Ghoul Busters, as the expert team from the Agency was called, flew in on their black brooms as the barbecue was wrapping up. They looked rather scary in their dark green robes and black helmets, but Severus doubted that the Dementors would be impressed.
"You can all go home now," their captain announced confidently. "We'll take it from here." Then he marched off to organize his team.
"They have no idea what they're getting into," Severus muttered.
"It's just as well that they're here, though," Kat said. "I think I'm too full to move. There's no way I could go out there tonight." His plate was stacked with gnawed bones, corn cobs, and other food residue.
Angie gave him a disgusted look. "You didn't have to make such a pig of yourself!"
Kat just rolled his eyes. "I'll summon the boat in the morning," he said, yawning, "after I sleep this off."
~~~~~
Cosmo, the boat's kneazle, sniffed the air when the boat docked in Glasgow. That's ... interesting, he thought. Very interesting. Do I detect … a female? He bothered to get up, stretch, and jump off the captain's chart table. Then he wandered out onto the deck to check things out.
A rather ragged-looking fellow with long, stringy hair and a frown on his face was standing on the dock. Cosmo sniffed the air again. It smelled a bit like the fellow had been hiding in the sewers.
As Captain Clark waved his wand to run out the gangplank, the man handed a coin to the lad who'd called the boat for him. Probably a squib, the captain thought as he watched the man lug his battered leather suitcase up the gangplank. It appeared to be quite heavy. A brown and black cat with large yellow eyes trotted in front him.
Cosmo's ears stood up, his eyes popped open, and his tail quivered. "Wow!" he thought, What a beauty!" as the breeze brought him the scent of Mrs Norris. "I think I'm in love! In fact, I know I am!"
~~~~~
Harry and Ron got out of the taxi not far from the old warehouse that held the Knight Lines office. "I'll never understand muggle money," Ron said. "Thanks for taking care of it. I mean, I know the driver thought I was a bit strange, but you didn't have to tell him I was an American."
"Well, it seemed to explain why you couldn't figure out the currency," Harry said. "But you're right. There's no reason for us to go around catching Knight Boats at random until we find the right one. If we're going to be Aurors, we should conduct a proper investigation."
"Exactly. So don't forget the cover story."
They walked around to the back of the building and used a charm to reveal the door. Inside a group of middle-aged wizards was seated at desks, busily writing on scrolls. Stacks of shipping crates filled the rest of the warehouse behind them.
Ron wanted to look important, so he did his best imitation of Percy. He walked up to the front counter, cleared his throat, and rang the bell impatiently.
A thin wizard with a receding hairline looked up from his work and asked, "Can I help you?"
"We're from the Auror Department, and we want to talk to someone about Knight Boat schedules," Ron said officiously.
"That would be me." The man's nametag said 'Flushwell'. He didn't seem particularly impressed by Ron, but fortunately he didn't ask to see their identification.
"One of your boats picked up some animals from an island off Scotland for us a few weeks ago," Harry said. "Could you tell us which boat that was?"
"That would Number Six," Mr Flushwell said. "Their home port is Baltimore. That's in America, you know," he added. He looked annoyed. "What has that bunch of irresponsible good-for-nothings done this time?"
"Oh, they haven't done anything wrong," Harry assured him. "We believe a small magical creature escaped then, and we're trying to track it down. We think it might have stowed away on that boat. Can you tell us where Number Six has been, and where it might be going?"
"Where she's going," Flushwell said, looking even more annoyed. "Ships are always referred to as 'she'." He took a scroll out of a rack and waved his wand over it to make a copy. "This might not be complete or accurate. That bunch on Number Six is the absolute worst when it comes to completing their paperwork properly." He shook his head as he handed it to them. "Hopeless, the lot of them. Do you want me to contact them and tell them you're looking for them?"
"No, that's okay, we'll handle it," Harry said quickly. "Thanks for your help," he added as they headed for the door.
When they got outside, a light rain was falling, and Harry cast Impervius to keep the scroll dry. Ron conjured two umbrellas.
"So what does it say?" Ron asked.
"Let's see." Unrolling the scroll, Harry read, "North Wales, Melbourne, an unpronounceable place in China, Borneo, Manaus, Lake Tanganyika, Lisbon, Acapulco, Baltimore, Pittsburgh … There's no pattern to it."
"There wouldn't be a pattern," Ron observed. "Knight Boats are like Knight Busses. They go where they're called, or where they're needed. Does it say anything about where they might be going?"
Harry read down the scroll until he reached the end. "Yes! Here at the bottom, it says they're expected to make a pick-up at the Southern Academy of Magic soon." Harry smiled. "Do you think we can get a portkey to New Orleans?"
Ron looked pained. "Probably," he said.
To be continued …