Chapter 23: Sir Evan of Eastleigh
A/N: Sorry again that it's been two weeks between updates. Promise the next one won't take as long, and hope that it's worth the wait. Have to admit I'm feeling completely amateurish after reading the works of some of the real writers at this site. Inspiring, no doubt, but they also make the task at hand seem so daunting.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc. etc.
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Friday, June 15, 11:30am
Hermione shouted over the wind as the Trio sped down the road. "So when do we pull off the motorway?"
Harry reached into the pocket and pulled out his MI-5 standard issue mobile telephone/computer/global positioning system. After a few screen touches and pips he shouted back, "Just past Basingstoke. It's the A303."
Ron leaned forward to be heard from the back seat "How long will it take to get Luna's house?"
"Projected time is two hours and thirty seven minutes," Harry said, "and that's without stopping for lunch."
"Blimey, that's five hours, there and back," shouted Ron. "How do muggles stand all the time it takes to travel?"
"Well, we find ways of passing the time," said Hermione. "Like listening to the radio." She frowned when all that she heard was click when she twisted the radio knob.
"Erm, sorry," said Harry, "that was apparently the one part of the car that didn't survive Fred and George's road test."
"Oh, makes sense," said Hermione. "So what kind of magic were they able to do with the engine running?"
Harry grinned. "They claimed to have Reducto'd a pillar box at 100 kph."
Ron's eyes lit up as he leaned forward in his seat. "So can we try?"
"No," was the unified response from the front seat.
"You're not even driving," said Hermione, "why don't you sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride?"
Ron did as he was told…for all of five minutes.
"Are we there yet?"
Hermione shook her head as she scanned the horizon ahead of her. "Well, it does look like rain," she replied.
Fifteen minutes later they'd pulled off the M3, attached the car's protective soft-top, and used their mobile's wireless internet service to locate a muggle restaurant with positive on-line reviews. As Hermione expertly parallel parked her vehicle Harry caught sight of a dark green park a discrete distance away. He smiled and pointed their tail out to Ron and Hermione as they entered the traditional-looking pub.
The three found an empty table amongst the lunchtime crowd. "Order us a round of butterbeers, will you Ron?" Hermione asked.
Harry looked quizzically at Hermione as Ron headed up to the bar to speak with the publican. "They won't have butterbeer in a muggle pub, will they?"
Hermione just winked, and watched as Ron returned empty-handed.
"They don't have butterbeer," he said.
"Sure they do," Hermione deadpanned, as she pointed behind the bar. "Tell him that it's right next to the butterscotch."
As Ron returned to the rail for additional embarrassment Harry leaned over to Hermione.
"You are a wicked witch," he told her with a smile
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It was raining heavily when they'd finished their meal and fizzy drinks (the most potent brews Ron could garner from the ill-humored licensee) and discovered that they had time on their hands. Hermione had called home to confirm that the following car's occupants were friendly (they were), and in the process learned that they weren't particularly wanted back in Little Wizarding (at least until that evening).
"What's that about, then?" Ron asked.
"Mum was rather evasive," Hermione replied. "Your brothers are no doubt planning something."
"Are the Dursleys still there?" Harry asked.
"Yes," she replied, "though I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to leave for the airport early…George apparently decided that your Aunt and Uncle would blend in better with the locals if he lengthened their canines."
"Brilliant," Ron said. "Hope they took pictures."
"Any ideas on what we can do this afternoon, then?" Harry asked.
"Mum chatted with Brian while I was still on the telephone, and he suggested that it might be a good day to visit Sir Evan."
"Who?" Ron asked.
"The only other living member of the Order of Arthur," Harry said. "So does he live anywhere near here?"
"Turns out he does," Hermione replied, "at a nursing home in Eastleigh, down by Southampton. Mum's e-mailing directions."
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"Did you say Sir Evan, luv?" the nurse asked incredulously when they asked for him at the front desk. "You mean he actually is a knight? Next thing you'll be telling me that there are witches and wizards running about as well."
The three laughed nervously before Harry leaned forward with some disarming candor. "Well of course there's witches and wizards" he said with a wink. "What do you think we are?"
The nurse chuckled. "Really?"
"Swear on Merlin's beard," Harry replied. "Of course, that's top secret information…Sir Evan will have to answer to the Queen for that one, he will."
The terribly anxious moment that followed was punctured by a roar of laughter that would have given Hagrid's bellowing a run for its money. "Well don't worry about me, lad," she smiled, as she led them down the hall to the elderly knight's room. "I won't tell a soul." She knocked on a door then opened it just a bit to shout inside. "Oi, Sir Evan, got some witches and wizards that are wanting to talk with you."
"About bloody time," came a strong voice in reply. "Show them in."
Sir Evan Turnbill was the kind of sprightly old man who wore his eighty-eight years quite well, thank you very much. He credited his vigor to a daily regimen of five walked miles and four gin and tonics, and had been rather put off that a broken hip had confined him to the bed of a nursing home.
"Good afternoon, Sir Evan," Hermione said as the three approached his bedside. "I'm…"
"Dame Hermione Granger, here with Sir Harry and Mr. Weasley, I presume?" the old man interrupted. "So, tell me how I know you lot aren't Death Eaters."
The three looked at each other, slightly taken aback, before Hermione reached into her purse and retrieved her Order of Arthur badge. With their identities thus confirmed, the three were treated to the very same stories that the nurses had proclaimed so fantastical; which they were, of course, unless you happened to have lived in both the muggle and magical worlds.
Evan Turnbill was card-carrying muggle (younger brother a Hufflepuff, Class of '47) who joined the Royal Air Force at the onset of the Second World War. He had spent the first few years as a Spitfire mechanic, with an excellent service record that was nonetheless rather ordinary. That all changed, however, when he was ordered to report to an airbase in East Anglia, along with five other men from different service branches and fronts. A sonarman whose submarine had been ordered home just to deliver him to shore, an army attaché based in India, a tank driver, a codebreaker, and a cook...they thought that they had absolutely nothing in common until Albus Dumbledore strode into the room in full wizarding regalia. It was then that they realized they all were muggle soldiers with magical siblings.
The muggle government's war against the Germans and Dumbledore's battle against Grindelwald
had reached a point where collaborative efforts had been deemed necessary. Dumbledore had learned that Grindelwald, a Dark Wizard based in Bavaria, had begun to work openly with the Nazi government. Unlike Voldemort, Grindelwald didn't despise muggles; in fact, he hid from wizarding world by living with the muggles, and helped Hitler with things like the initiation of a nuclear program (theoretical physics not all that different from the study of arithmancy). Deciding to fight fire with fire, the muggle and magical governments of Britain had allied to develop a small, integrated team of wizard and muggles in the know to defeat Grindelwald and thwart Hitler's plans for world domination.
Each of the muggle servicemen was paired with a hit wizard save for Sir Evan, who was paired with Dumbledore himself. The reason for this pairing became clear rather quickly; muggle skills were critical to the team's success (much to the consternation of the Aurors). Most of their initial missions involved information gathering; since Grindelwald was living and dressing like a muggle in the muggle world, English muggles were needed to do things like drive vehicles, coordinate clothing, and spot things that just seemed out of place.
The first attempts to side-arm apparate Evan and the other muggles behind enemy lines had been near-fatal; it was only after the King had knighted the six muggles and six wizards and invited them to join the Order of Arthur that they were able to get around this transportation problem.
"How did knighthood make side-arming any easier?" Harry asked Sir Evan, as he, Hermione and Ron stood around his bedside to hear his story.
"The badge" replied Sir Evan, "is a instantaneous transportation device."
"Really?" asked Harry.
"Yes," Sir Evan said. "A very convenient way to travel. Safe for muggles, too."
"I've never come across this in Hogwarts, A History," frowned Hermione.
"Oh, well then it's not possible, right?" Ron chided.
"Dumbledore had said that there had been rumors of the badge's powers, but with no living member of the Order there wasn't anyone to pass that information on. Took him almost two years to find Merlin's research journal."
He pointed towards his badge, noting that it was shaped like the sun, with twelve golden rays pointing out from an amber core (each representing a member of the Order). "The magical properties of each badge are activated when the user calls out the war cry used by Arthur and his round table knights," said Evan.
"What was that?"
"Well," said the elderly man, "for some reason, the cry was 'Clarence!'…now, you see, when I used the war cry my badge was activated." He held his badge up to reveal four of the twelve sun rays lit, one at each compass point. "My ray is the East," Sir Evan said. "You can tell it is the only one activated because it's brighter than the rest."
Sir Evan urged the Trio to try out their own badges, only to be disappointed by the fact that Hermione was the only one that had hers on her person. When Hermione used the rallying cry her badge lit, with both East and South rays glowing brightly and the North and West faintly. "Ah, Dame Hermione, so you are the South….or would you prefer six o'clock?"
"I think 'South' has a better ring to it," she said in reply.
"Now that the badge is activated you can transport to my position merely by saying the word Socioarus."
"And I'm transported exactly to your position?" she asked with a tinge of concern.
"Well, actually, you'd end up in a safe piece of unoccupied airspace a few feet away."
"So does it work like a portkey?" asked Harry.
"I'm not sure," Sir Evan said. "Never used a port key."
"What does it feel like when you are transported?" asked Hermione.
"Well," said Sir Evan, "it feels like you've got a fishhook in your stomach that somebody is trying pull out through your navel."
"Portkey," said all three in near unison.
"Is it traceable? Does it work in places that are warded? Does it have a range limitation?"
"I'm not sure. You folks are the wizards, imagine you'd know better than me. I can tell you that back during the war we used it to travel between England and Germany, so it works that distance at least. Beyond that, I'm not sure." He went on to explain that when a muggle-wizard team went on a mission the wizard would apparate to a target area, then the muggle would use the badge to catch up with his partner. He then added that the badges also acted as a communication device.
"Like a two-way radio?" asked Hermione.
"More like a twelve-way radio, if you wanted to talk to everyone in the Order at the same time," said Sir Evan. "To talk with a specific person, you touch a specific ray and say "Confabulus."
"What if you want to talk with more than one person?"
"Then you simply press a finger on each of the target rays as you say the activation word. If you are in a hurry, or wanted to create a conference call, you can press your palm against the badge centre and contact everyone in the Order.
"Does the person you want to speak with have to have their badge activated to talk with them?"
"Yes they do. If you try to call someone whose badge is turned off, that person's badge would vibrate and warm to the touch, so they'd know to turn it on. The connection would be established once they say the war cry; you don't have to say Confabulus to receive a call."
"So it's a medieval cell phone?" asked Harry.
"Yes, I imagine you could think of it that way," said Sir Evan. "Of course, fifty years ago we didn't have cell phones to compare it with. Even so, there are some advantages today to using your badge…you don't need to be near a transmitting tower to talk, they work inside caves and underground, and you don't need to recharge a battery."
"Or worry about going over minutes," mumbled Hermione, speaking from experience.
The Trio chatted with Sir Evan for a few more minutes about his wartime experiences. Harry wanted to learn more about the missions Sir Evan undertook by Dumbledore's side, but the elderly knight suggested that those stories could wait for another day….particularly since they had some new toys to play with when they returned home.
And so the three bade Sir Evan goodbye with promises to make a return visit soon.
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The conversation was rather animated on the return journey to Little Wizarding.
"Do you believe the stories the old muggle told?" asked Ron.
"Why shouldn't we?" Hermione replied. "because he's a muggle?"
"'Course not," Ron replied rather defensively. "Just the idea of powerful magical devices being held in the hands of muggles, and worse still, them knowing about it."
"He's a c-mug, remember?" Harry replied. "And if being around Brian and Wally these past couple of weeks have taught me anything, it's that there's a lot more of them and they know a lot more then I ever imagined…and that's not a bad thing."
"Why do you say that?" asked Ron. "Keeping our magical existence quiet from the muggles has been the key to our world's existence, hasn't it?"
"To what end, though?" Harry said. "Our Ministry seems much more interested in keeping its secrets than defeating Voldemort, and muggle lives are being lost as a result. It'd be different if we could handle our internal battles, well, internally, but that's not how it's working out is it?"
Ron thought about that for a second. "So if defeating Voldemort requires breaking our secrecy laws…"
"Then I'll break them," Harry replied firmly, "And anyone who wants to be a part of Clan Potter should be willing to do the same."
Ron leaned back a bit in his seat, wondering if Harry was issuing a defining challenge. "I'm with you, Harry, no worries there," he replied quickly. "I'm just worried about having to fight Voldemort and the Ministry at the same time, especially with dad being on the other side."
"Don't sell your dad short before he's asked to make that choice," Hermione replied. She tried to defuse the situation by changing the subject. "So do you think Sir Evan will be able to help us?"
"Don't see how, given his bad hip," Ron replied.
"Think about how the badge operates, though" Hermione said. "If they work like he says, then we could always transport to his location if we ever got into trouble, or stuck within an anti-apparition field. Assuming," she added, "that we all have our apparition licenses sometime in the next decade or so."
"Yeah, yeah," Ron replied. "Kind of limited use, though, if it means we'd always end up in Eastleigh…without someone being badged inside Little Wizarding…too bad we can't get our hands on more of those things."
"Well," said Harry, "I can always talk to the Prince about getting more badges, though I think we'd have to think hard about who they'd go to. And as for having a badge in Eastleigh but not one in Little Whinging, there's a solution to that, isn't there?"
"Think he'd want to move?" Ron asked.
"In a heartbeat, if it meant spending some time with Hermione," Harry replied with a grin.
"Oh stop," Hermione said. "He's a very nice man, and if he flirts a bit, well, at eighty-eight he can get away with it." She took a hand off the steering wheel and, after activating the badge she was wearing over her summer jumper, touched Sir Evan's ray.
"Oh, Sir Evan?"
"Yes, Dame Hermione, brightest ray of the sun, what can I do for you?"
Ron grinned while Hermione shook her head at him. "We were just wondering if you'd like to stay with us for a while up in Surrey."
They heard something mumbled on the other side, and a moment later Ron had company in the back seat.
"Thought you'd never ask," Sir Evan said with a frail smile, as he leaned back on the rear bench of the Bentley.