Muggle Summer
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Chapter 36: The Rookery
Sunday, June 24, 10:00am
Windsor Castle
The morning sun mocked Harry as he gazed over the Tower's parapets and sipped his tea. The sun had stayed hidden behind rain clouds the entire day previous…the petulant and absent guest-of-honor at their Legoland solstice party. "No problems shining down upon the Ferris wheel and roller coasters today, though", he noted, as he looked out towards the theme park's grounds and recalled the previous night's activities.
The persistently heavy rain had prevented any of the theme park's rides from operating for the three-hundred or so muggle-born students and their families. Harry thought the gathering doomed, only to discover that contingencies had been made for the English weather. Theme park staff boarded the group's tour buses at the front entrance and directed them to a large building on the edge of the park grounds. Inside they found half-built large-scale Lego constructions surrounded by workbenches and piles of brightly-colored building blocks. Mrs. Granger used a loudspeaker to announce that they were in the place where all of the theme park's scale model replicas were designed and built, and that they had been invited to do some creative construction on their own.
Shouts of joy came from different parts of the room, as children dived head-long into the opportunity to build with out material limits. The activity quickly turned into a competition, with teams of students building plastic replicas of their magical world for their muggle parents and siblings. "Magical creatures" was decided upon as the main theme, and after a hour's worth of work (and with a seemingly unending supply of building materials), a small menagerie of half-metre tall hippogriffs, centaurs, unicorns and the like were on proud display. Of course, some of the students were more creative than others; Dean Thomas's group built a snarling potion master hovering over a cauldron and identified it as a "Hooked-nosed Snape." None of the magical children disputed its characterization as the scariest creature within the wizarding world.
The park staff was amazed at the breath of creativity on display (nobody chose to tell them that all of the creatures were inspired by real-life interactions). They also were impressed with the speed and efficiency with which the models had been built (not having seen some of the older students use liberal amounts of magic to replicate pieces, change their colors, and securely stick them together). The park workers went so far as to invite the entire group to create a much larger model of one of the figures for permanent display within the park. Strength of applause was used to select the Creevy brother's diorama ("Harry and the Horned-tail") as the winning model (much to his chagrin). Pallets of blocks were brought in, and for the balance of the evening food and music were afterthoughts to the construction project. For much of that time, Harry served as a fairly-good humored live model, with a muggle push broom held between his legs.
It turned out to be an enormously successful event, and something that Mrs. Granger had the right to be proud of. Not that her work was done, mind you. Due to the inclement weather, vouchers had been provided to gain following-day readmission, and many of the families had plans to do just that. Emily had been up and out of the castle by seven that morning to coordinate the logistics.
Clan Chief and Consort had other plans for the day. They had risen early, splashed through an early morning run, and taken breakfast before the tourist queues had chance to take form. Hermione had disappeared into the Love Shack for more work with her own scale model constructions, leaving Harry just outside the tent to whack away at a wooden post. That he was drinking his tea alone following that work-out bore witness to Hermione's attention to task. That he couldn't prevent his teacup from trembling in either hand bore witness to his need to increase sword-arm strength.
Wally interrupted the post-workout cool-down with a badge-call request for Harry to meet him in the MI-5 3/4 field office. After determining that it wasn't an emergency, Harry promised to meet with him after taking a shower. He then walked down to their bed chambers, pulled some fresh clothes from his wardrobe, and ducked into the Love Shack. A comfortably-dressed Hermione was hovering over her model wards on the tatami mats across from the hot tub.
"Hey Hermione, will you be a dear and press my suit while I'm in the showers?" asked Harry. "I'm pants at that ironing charm, and Wally needs to meet with me downstairs."
Hermione looked up at Harry and snorted. "Getting a bit dressed up for a weekend morning, aren't you?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled as he looked at the suit held in one hand and Italian loafers held in the other. "Well…Queen's Wizard and Lord…I do have a certain image to maintain, don't I?"
That earned a snicker. "When have you ever worried about your attire, Harry?"
"Erm…not worrying…just working with what you and your mum picked out for me."
"Sure, Harry…that wardrobe did include some jeans and polo shirts, did it not?"
"Well…I guess so."
Hermione smiled as she "tsk'ed tsk'ed" him. "Don't suppose it's because it's Wally you're meeting?"
"And just what are you suggesting?"
Hermione stood up and walked over to Harry wearing a bright smile. "That you're either a closet clothes-hound," she replied with a smile, "or that all of that witty banter with Wally means you're a closeted something else."
"Hermione!"
"Yes?"
"I'm surprised at your intimations….just because I'm secure enough in my own skin not to wither when he gets a bit catty?"
Hermione grabbed Harry's waist with both hands and pulled him close. "Perhaps I am reading too much into this."
With a frown of mock indignation Harry held the suit and shoes out from the embrace. "Mind the clothes!"
"There you go again, Harry….now I think you'll just have to prove yourself."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What…prove I don't care about clothes by tossing them?"
"Uh-huh."
"I'd rather prove to you that my friendship with Wally is completely platonic."
Hermione smiled. "And just how do you propose to do that?"
The linen suit and loafers fell to the floor as Harry grabbed Hermione and tossed her over his shoulder. She let out a "Squee!" as he carried her into the Love Shack's main room and tossed her down on the bed. Something more like a growl came out of her mouth as Harry stripped down to his boxers and pounced on her.
As he began nibbling on her earlobe, Hermione coyly noted, "You do realize that your suit is now completely wrinkled, right?"
Harry stopped nibbling long enough to murmur, "Would you worry if I cared?"
Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head as she pulled Harry's sweaty chest down to hers. "As long…ooh!…as long as you keep doing that……never!"
+++
Harry arrived at MI-5 3/4's field office a little later and a lot more rumpled then he had initially planned. He found Wally sitting alone in-front of three large computer screens.
"Well don't we look dashing," said Wally. "The wizard wears Armani...yet again."
Harry laughed. "Is that a complaint?"
"No, it's a critique. Bad form to be caught on a magazine cover twice…or ten times…in the same outfit."
"Perhaps I should let you lay out clothes for me rather than Hermione, then?"
"Erm…no thank you. First c-mug secret agent rule is `Never get in between a witch and her wand, no matter how gorgeous it is'."
"But Hermione always has her wand with her."
Wally made a show of fluttering his eye-lashes. "I was talking about a different wand, Sir Harry."
Harry winked at Wally. "Flirt"
"Tease."
Harry chuckled. "What have you got for me, Wally?"
Wally bit his lip before rifling back a scandalously funny retort, and waved Harry over.
"We've been working on improving surveillance capabilities for your Diagon Alley area, and have run across something you might want to see."
Harry leaned over Wally's shoulder and took a closer look a digital aerial photograph of an urban area. "That's Charing Cross in London, then?" he asked.
Wally nodded as he pulled up a correlative street map on one of the side displays. While Harry matched up the two images using street patterns, Wally pulled up a picture on the third screen.
"Look familiar, Harry?"
Harry looked across and nodded. "That's the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron." He then looked back at the air photo and pointed. "That's right about there, right?" he asked.
Wally nodded. "Exactly….which would mean that this cluster of small buildings behind it is Diagon Alley, right?"
Harry paused to match the bird's eye view of the area to a mental image of a street level view of the Alley. "Yes, it must be," he concluded. "That big building is Gringott's, and there's Madam Malkin's, and the Weasley Twins's store is right there." He then squinted and frowned.
"Something look a bit off, Sir Harry?"
Harry nodded as he pointed to a spot just one block away from the Cauldron. "That building just south of there is casting a rather long shadow…just how tall is it?"
Wally smiled at how quickly Harry was on the uptake. "Tall enough to look down upon you wizarding folk, or so we think, at least."
"So you think?" asked Harry with one eyebrow raised. "Are you not a secret agent?"
After chuckling, Wally noted, "It's listed as a residential building, but we sent four different people there yesterday for a look see and they all came back a bit dazed and confused."
Harry smiled. "Don't suppose you sent along a wizard, eh?"
Wally let out another small laugh. "Actually, I asked Fred and George to visit, but they came back just as befuddled as the others."
Harry thought, "So maybe it's a wizard residence with ward's tied to ownership…"
"There's an idea," said Wally. He quickly searched for (and found) building ownership records on an internet database. This search revealed that the building was built in the late 1890's, and currently owned by a rather nebulous corporate entity with a non-descript name. During this search, Harry focused not so much on what Wally was doing but rather on the street address he typed into the various search engines.
"Eight-seven Shaftesbury Avenue…you know, Wally, I've seen that address somewhere before," he said. After a minute or so of rather intense concentration it came to him. Harry pulled a miniaturized ledger from an inside coat pocket and stepped into an adjacent empty room (so as not to fry the electronics). A quick search of holdings provided the information he needed, and he returned to Wally's side with a lopsided grin on his face.
"So why exactly are we interested in this building, Wally?"
"Erm…because we'd like to be able to keep an eye on the Weasley shop," Wally replied. "They are out in a rather exposed location."
Harry nodded. "And we watch over our own."
+++
Thirty minutes later Harry and Hermione were in downtown London, standing across the street from the building that had piqued Wally's interest. Hermione looked skeptical
"Remind me why this was worth changing into a dress and leaving my ward models, Harry?"
Harry smiled as he grabbed her hand. "Potter estate management, my dear."
They noticed small brass plaques on either side of the front entrance that provided a street address and building name. It was called, "The Rookery." The entrance itself had a neo-gothic archway, and was guarded by stone gargoyles. Harry felt a magical tingle on the back of his neck as the two stepped onto the building's front steps. Hermione felt a strong urge to back away, and this urge to flee remained until Harry literally dragged her by the arm through the front door. Once inside, they found an elegantly appointed lobby of what looked to be a small hotel. They walked towards the back of the room, where a smartly dressed house-elf greeted them from behind a mahogany desk.
"Good day, Clan Chief Potter," he said. "The goblins informed us that we might be see your return sometime soon."
Harry adopted a look of confusion on his face. "Good day, erm…I'm sorry but what's your name?"
"Forgive me, Clan Chief. My name is Gilbert, and I am The Rookery's chief concierge."
The house elf looked surprised when Harry reached out to shake his hand. "Please to meet you, Gilbert. This is Hermione Granger, my, erm…"
Hermione giggled a bit at Harry's hesitance. "Nice to meet you, Gilbert. I am the Clan Chief's Consort."
Gilbert gave her a wide-eyed nod. "It is an honor, Consort Hermione."
Harry gave her a fish-eye, then turned to the house-elf. "Gilbert, it is my understanding that I own an apartment in this building."
"Yes indeed, Clan Chief Potter…would you like to see it now?"
At Harry's nod, Gilbert led them into a magical lift, and asked Harry to place his hand and wand tip onto a metal plate where floor buttons might otherwise be. The plate gave off a glow and the lift began to move. After a few moments the lift door opened and Gilbert announced, "Twenty- third floor, otherwise known as `Potter's Playpen'."
+++
That night Clan Chief Potter and his Consort invited most of the Art Club over to The Rookery for a small housewarming party (Sir Evan and Steve remained at Windsor to serve as anchor and Royal bodyguard respectively). While everyone one thought the apartment (which actually took up the entire 23rd floor) was lovely, they were far more interested in the large balcony and the differing views it provided.
Witches and wizards that looked down from the balcony saw the Leaky Cauldron's rooftop, and, beyond that, a breathtaking view down the full length of Diagon Alley. Muggle Art Club members, however, could look in the exact same direction and see only warehouses, similar to the two-story structures that everyone agreed could be found in the adjacent city blocks. Evidently, the same kind of magic that protected Hogwarts from the prying eyes of muggles was at work in Central London.
Conjured telescopes, binoculars and window panes were used to work out just how that magic was working. Hermione had hypothesized that muggles might see through the magic if they weren't seeing it with their bare eyes, based on the fact that Colin Creevy hadn't been killed when he viewed the basilisk through his camera lens. Unfortunately, muggle eyes were still fooled, even when looking through glass. It was only when Wally set up a digital camera and Harry aimed it towards Diagon Alley that the Grangers and he could see in the camera's image display what they should have been seeing with their bare eyes.
The house-elf that Gilbert had assigned to serve them for the night had been thrilled when Harry and Hermione asked him to decide on food and beverages for the small get-together. He was flat-out gobsmacked when they asked him to place an additional setting on the dinner table for himself. The house-elf, who was named Dalton and spoke the Queen's english, demurred, until Harry pointed out that it would be the most efficient way for everyone to learn more about the building's history. The house-elf told an amazingly interesting story.
Diagon Alley had hidden in plain sight for hundreds of years, with walls and street-level notice-me-not charms all that was needed to remain in the shadows. That changed, however, in the early 1800's, when muggles invented balloons and ways to build taller buildings. In response, wards were constructed to provide a hemispherical illusion for any muggle who might spy down upon the magical enclave. This allowed unabated development of the surrounding muggle neighborhoods, including residential buildings similar to The Rookery.
The Rookery distinguished itself from these other buildings not just with its wards and magical conveniences, but with its somewhat colorful origins. It took a bit of prodding, but Dalton finally admitted that the Rookery had been built by a small, elite social club of pure-blooded wizards for randy rendezvous. Some patriarchs kept their mistresses there, while others used their apartments to entertain muggle prostitutes. The building's location was perfect for these purposes; conveniently close enough to Diagon for them to slip away, but on the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron (where no proper pure-blooded witch might care to follow). The club itself held nominal ownership of the building, and arranged for maintenance and upkeep through discrete and automatic withdrawals from Gringott's accounts.
Remus noted that the information Dalton provided was amazingly candid. The house elf shrugged his shoulders and stated that it didn't really matter how candid he was, since nobody other than Harry would remember what he said once they left the property. Immediately pressed for details, Dalton explain that the entire building was charmed so that anyone other than the flat owners would magically forget about the building (and everything that occurred within its walls) once they crossed back over the wards. This automatic obliviation process was created and maintained not just for privacy but for discretion; with the charm in place philandering wizards didn't have to worry about remembering to obtaining consent from the women they brought there.
The implications of the house elf's information cast a shadow on the evening, particularly when they realized that at least a few of the original patriarchs were probably alive and actively using the rest of the building. The group decided to call it a night and either badge-jumped or apparated back to their homes. Wally held back to talk about setting up long-range cameras on the balcony, until Harry reminded him that he would forget everything they talked about as soon as he left. With that conversation thus deferred, Harry and Hermione were soon the only two remaining.
Harry refilled their wineglasses with the last of the open bottles and joined Hermione on the balcony. It was nearly eleven and just barely twilight, as the summer sun dipped behind the western suburbs. They watched quietly as Diagon Alley's street lamps were lit. Hermione broke the silence, noting, "The more I think about why this building was built and what it's used for the less I appreciate this view."
Harry agreed. "Also a waste of tasteful interior design, if you ask me…I was planning on ravishing you in the boudoir until I realized that you wouldn't remember any of my kisses."
Hermione grinned. "So you think your kisses are worth remembering, Potter?"
"You'd be the one to know, sweetheart."
Hermione's eyes lit up a bit. "Oh there may have been one or two that stood out."
"Only one or two?"
Hermione nodded. "Of course, it wouldn't hurt to reinforce those memories by recreating the scene of the crime."
Harry smiled and began to quietly sing. "I'm headin' down the Atlanta highway…"
"I'd rather you be quietly heading to Windsor."
"Hey Hermione, do you think you'd like my singing any better during the trip?"
"Don't think I'd be able to notice, with all of the flashing lights and sounds."
"Guess I'll just have to sing louder, then."
Harry called Sir Even and they said the badge-jumping magic words. Hermione imagined that it was the first time a B-52's song had been sung on the astral plane.
"Love Shack, baby Love Shack!…Love Shack, baby Love Shack!…Love Shack…."
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