Beautiful Dreamer

Chapter 4

Classes

Harry's jaw dropped. Margaret smiled, her happiness shining brightly. Harry looked over at the crowd surrounding his Hermione and felt the urge to barrel through them all to get to her. Margaret must have seen it in his eyes because she said, "You will be able to see her soon."

Harry turned to her, and all the questions tumbled out of his mouth at once.

"How is this going to make her ok? Won't she still turn into a Hessonite? Why was she glowing like that? How did all the Vesuvians get here? Is she going to be ok?"

The words came a mile a minute and Margaret took them calmly. Once Harry paused for breath, she took it as her turn to speak.

"The chant was a disabling chant that canceled out the charm on her. She won't turn into a Hessonite because the charm has been in effect since before you left, the charm has done enough damage to repel any further 'attacks' that would transform her. She was glowing like that because that was a part of the chanting spell the Vesuvian were casing on her. The Vesuvians are here because I contacted them. She's going to be fine," Margaret relayed with annoying calm.

Harry stared at her, confused. It took a moment for all of her words to sink in.

"Wait," he said, "you contacted them?! Why didn't we just do that before?!"

"Because the charm on her wouldn't have done its job and Sirius and I weren't sure that I, a class D, would be able to contact them."

Harry was even more confused.

"A class D? A class D what?!"

"I'm a class D Vesuvian."

"YOU'RE A VESUVIAN?!"

Harry froze solid. Margaret was a Vesuvian. Well, that certainly would explain some things, like how she'd been able to speak the language and the familiarity in her and Hermione's voice. Not to mention the blue eyes.

"There are four different 'classes' of Vesuvians," she explained, "A class D Vesuvian like I can't do very much at all. Our powers only appear when we're feeling a strong emotion of some sort. Like, when I get mad sometimes things explode. We can still learn the language however. A class C Vesuvian can use small song spells that don't have a great effect, but sure come in handy. A class B Vesuvian can knock out an opponent for hours, charm anything lighter than a chair, and learn with rapid speed. Most Vesuvians are class D's and C's." Margaret said.

Harry hesitated before asking, "What about class A's?"

Margaret's face darkened. She looked as though consider her words cautiously.

"They could do nearly anything, but nobody is really sure. Control the weather, charm objects heavier than a car, kill a foe with a simple song, heck, they might even be able to fly. No one knows for sure. There has only been one class A Vesuvian ever recorded in history, Galena Regnarg."

Comprehension dawned on Harry's face.

"Hermione's great-great-grandmother!"

"That's right," Margaret said as she looked over at the huddled forms.

Harry thought about all the information that had just been pushed into his head. "...They might even be able to fly..." But Hermione did fly!

~

Hermione was levitating about thirty feet above the surface of the middle of the lake. Her arms were outstretched toward the heavens, her hair whipping around violently and her eyes glowing like beacons. Her mouth was twisted in concentration and anger. Limbs from trees, rocks, dirt, and debris, even little statues, swirled around her in a strange sort of dance. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance above the forest.

Harry was numb with disbelief. She was flying. Well, levitating, at least. He quickly recovered himself.

~

She was controlling the weather that night! Does that mean that Hermione's a class A Vesuvian? Harry looked up as a finger tapped him on the shoulder.

A young man, about 25 or so, with scruffy chin hairs was towering above him, his muscles evident through his robes. Harry gulped. To Harry's surprise, the man beamed at him.

"Hello, Harry Potter! My name is Nickeline Cassiterite."

Harry was shocked at the sudden booming voice and then realized he was surrounded by a group of 14 Vesuvians, all of them smiling but one. Sirius stood firmly next to Harry and Margaret next to him. Harry noticed Margaret had bowed her head since they approached and would not look up again.

"We," the man gestured toward the group, "are the members of the Vesuvian Council! Well, except our young leader who is resting at the moment." Not once did the lopsided smile leave Nickeline's face.

"Here we have Tourmaline Kornerpurine, the Supreme Chancellor's second in command." He placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of a young looking witch who was no doubt beautiful. She had black-brown hair with bright blue eyes that seemed out of place with the rest of her, which was tan and dark. Harry noticed something pass in Nickeline's eyes as he looked at her.

"This is Chalcedony Cassiterite, my big sister and head judge in the Imperial Court." He pointed at the woman next to Tourmaline, who was a round, pleasant looking witch with frizzy light brown hair and looked nearing 40.

"Over there is Trona Pestanta, the royal advisor." A very young woman, barely 20, inclined her head as her name was spoken.

"This here is Borax Verharst, head of Magical Relations." The elderly man next to Trona gave a small wave.

"Next to Borax is Gypsum, the leader of the Magical Cooperation Committee." An overly cheerful middle-aged woman beamed at Harry as Harry nodded his hello as he did with all of the others.

"Here's the man who organized this all, Euclase Baratona, Chief of Defense against the Hessonite." The round man next to Gypsum gave a small embarrassed cough. They were now halfway around the circle.

"Over there is Talc Attua. He's the young bloke who's in charge of Muggle Relations." A young man with blond hair was sweating very much next to Euclase and Harry was quite alarmed when he began to go into a coughing fit.

"He's very illness prone." Nickeline added in an undertone to Harry before continuing.

"There's Nepheline Liverar, she's the head power-usage instructor."

"There's Breccia Liverar is her husband and he's the Ministry Communication's Chief Executive."

"Loess Sloant is that woman over there and she is the Organization representative, along with Shale Sloant, that man trying to hide behind Potash."

"Potash Shines is a judge in the Imperial Court also, though not as high as Chalcedony."

"Last, we have Septarian Malfoy."

Harry, who had been nodding numbly at everyone, wondering how on earth he was going to remember all these names, snapped his head toward the man at whom Nickeline was pointing.

There was no doubt that the man before Harry was a Malfoy. Septarian had a slightly pointed face of 23 years hiding under platinum blonde hair and was the only member not smiling. He was considering Harry with a slight sneer on his face, his blue eyes sharp, cold, and calculating. Harry did not like the way he was looking at him. Harry had a flashback to his and Hermione's encounter with Malfoy.

~

"Are you ok?"

Hermione nodded and absentmindedly rubbed her wrist, still watching Malfoy's back.

"Thank God he didn't get Septarian here."

"Why?"

"That crime is taken very seriously, and you probably would have been taken away. Malfoy never has a problem with me unless it has something with you or Ron. There's even times when he can be very valiant. Like the time last year when he kept Septarian and Nickeline from putting me through combat training."

~

"After me, the Chief of Security, Septarian is the second in command," Nick explained. Harry inclined his head very slightly as he didn't dare take his eyes off of Septarian. Septarian was giving Harry a odd look of utmost loathing, not unusual coming from a Malfoy, but as Harry had never met him before, Harry expected to have at least a chance to make a good impression. Septarian seemed to have made up his mind about Harry already, however.

"Um, Nick? Can I see Hermione?"

Septarian spoke for the first time after Harry's statement.

"No, Nickeline, this boy must have no memory of Enoimreh," he said, pulling out his wand as he did so. Nickeline looked nervously from Septarian to Tourmaline. Tourmaline spoke up first.

"As Enoimreh is currently unconscious, it will be up to me to make that decision."

Tourmaline strode across the circle to Harry, seized his arm and dragged him out into the hall. Harry, who was glad to get away from Septarian's glares, was still confused and trying to remember all the new names.

Once they were out in the hall, Tourmaline rounded on him.

"It is rule that if anyone who could put the Supreme Chancellor's secret in danger, that person's memory should be immediately modified," she said, twirling her wand in her hand idly, "but I will allow you to say one thing that might change my mind from doing so. If it is a good enough reason, then you shall keep your memory of Enoimreh. If it is not, or I find out you're lying, and I will know if you're lying, then your memory is gone."

Tourmaline took a sneakoscope out of her pocket and set it down on the table between them. She then waited, staring at him. Harry didn't even have to think to find the reason.

"I love her more than I've ever loved anybody or anything my entire life."

Tourmaline gazed at Harry, her mouth shut tight, her eyes on the sneakoscope. Then she stood up and smoothed out her robes.