Pack!

               Chapter Thirty-Seven

               Day Forty

               This time, it was Harry and the rest of the Puddlemere team, along with Oliver’s dad, who were seated at one of the outdoor tables, each buried nose deep in their individual copies of The Paddock’s business plan. They were giving things a final run through, looking for anything they might have missed and all of them hoping their plans had put eggs in the right baskets. Occasionally a hand would grope for a quill, or in Harry’s case, a pen, jotting down a note or question here and there, before going back to turn a page.

               A couple weeks ago, Oliver had proposed looking down the road to where they wanted to be and how they wanted to be operating in ten years, then writing their plan from that viewpoint. His dad, who’d told them all to just call him Rafe, had agreed. “Begin as ye mean to go on, laddies.” Everyone was laddie to Rafe, males and females alike. “If ye are goin’ to do this, do it once and do it right.”  They’d then spent several days hammering the details out, going over options and ideas, finally resulting in an ambitious document that had butterflies going a mile a minute, all of them biting their lips and casting nervous glances at each other as they stared at the mass of handwritten notes consolidated into their future that lay in the middle of the table. “Oh hell, I think I’m gonna be sick,” muttered Harley. Sienna was looking quite pale, and she swallowed hard, nodding in agreement.

               To a one, they’d chipped in nearly all their cash to ensure they could start up without having to cut corners. Thanks to Harry and Mr. Stowe, they would have solid and well-built barns from the beginning, and thanks to Ollie and the rest of the team’s hard work, they had enough feed in stasis to keep them going for what they hoped would be a couple of years, though they certainly hoped to be growing their own well before that point. They’d made sure to pass the word to anyone having livestock that if they ran into trouble about having enough feed to get them through the first year, The Paddocks would be available to assist. At the time of putting things together, they’d not yet fully defined their horse business and had a foot in both camps of private and community supplies. Even though they’d made sure that all the feed stock they bought was reimbursed to the community fund and paid for out of Ollie’s loan from Harry, they felt obliged to offer the supplies up if they were needed. If someone ran into trouble, it would be unthinkable not to help if they could.

               The added financial assets from the players had bought two magically expanded greenhouses from the community supplies with enough oats, corn, barley, alfalfa, and sorghum seed stocks to get them started. They’d even coaxed Neville to part with a small amount of sugar cane so they could make their own molasses. They weren’t planning to have all their feed grown in the greenhouses, most of that space would be for cultivation of horse approved medical plants or other small requirements, like getting their small shoots of sugar cane established into stock that could be transplanted later. They’d be reserving space to work with newfound plants to make sure nothing would be deadly to the animals if ingested, the outdoor fields and paddocks would have to be carefully monitored to ensure they were aware of every plant that grew in them, keeping watch for anything else that may spring up from windblown seeds and the like.

               There was going to have to be an extended conversation about what they wanted to do regarding growing feed; did they want to keep that entirely in house or contract it out?  They knew that they were the only team that had an entire seven man reserve, which gave them a bump to the hands available. One of The Paddocks’ current requirements was that if you wanted to play for Puddlemere, you had to work for the sponsoring company in some capacity. They were open to changing that philosophy later, but right now everyone was happy to be part of their singular focus. That said, they would spread themselves incredibly thin if they were going to try to handle all the work themselves. They had their 15 players, which now included Harry, and any of their family that wanted to work for The Paddocks was certainly welcome, but they could see the future tasking looming ahead. Planting and harvesting would be all hands on deck as the growing season demanded, but with the numbers of horses they had, the daily work required was itself an all hands on deck enterprise unless they kept a number of the animals in stasis. Then there would be the riding academies, leatherworking for tack and harnesses, as well as learning to build wagons, carts, and carriages, although that part was almost certainly going to be handled by someone else. They’d need a couple for training purposes, but that was it. So fifteen people, sixteen with Rafe, began to look like a pitifully small drop in the bucket against identified needs.

               They’d already pulled out the four big barns Harry’d picked up from Stowe and Packers, and one by one set them up for a thorough inspection. The team had laughed themselves silly when they heard about Harry and his “multiple pet carriers”, often referring to them as MPC #1, #2, #3, and #4. They’d cleared out all animals except their horses and Abraxans from the barns when they’d arrived at their new site, once those willing to take on various livestock concerns had been identified and had facilities of their own set up. They didn’t have their final site selected, so they were limiting themselves to taking inventory and inspection of their biggest assets for now. They thought the barns currently configured for cattle could be converted to a more horse friendly arrangement without much effort, so that was good. Plans were drawn up for the conversion, and the required materials were bought and set aside for later work. It was Reggie Gibson who had been the first to find an owner’s manual for one of the barns, and as he was a detail sort of guy and didn’t know a thing about how a portable stasis equipped barn worked, he’d buried himself in the somewhat sizeable pamphlet that had been tied to a hook on the door of the office space of the first cattle barn. Then seeing the pamphlet in the horse barns was not identical, he’d read that one, too.

               He’d been surprised then thoughtful. Taking the pamphlets, he’d gone to Oliver to discuss a feature they’d all been unaware of, that the two horse stables were linked. Not the barns, just the stables. You could set the door charms at one end of each horse barn to tie directly to the other horse barn and walk from one right into the other. Ollie had immediately taken one of the barns and flew out in incremental distances to test it, landing then rolling a ball through the door and waiting for someone to roll it back, then sending a chicken through to ensure live animals would be fine as well. If he got a second “all good” via the returned chicken, he’d head out farther. They’d tested it up to two hundred miles distance with no issues at all. They’d check it again if the location they chose to work from was further out than that.

               The testing had resulted in them deciding on an operational split location. On the one hand, they needed to be relatively close to the town’s farmlands at least in the early spring for plowing and harvesting in the fall, but the Abraxans needed a lot of room for exercise and training, and that space would need to be warded. They’d need more land yet to put under cultivation for horse feed. On the one hand, a nearby town would be great for the sake of convenience, not to mention the social aspect. But looking down the road for ten years meant that the town would expand, and their big space needs would be in jeopardy, they’d likely have to move. Too far out of town and they’d be constantly on the move getting draft horses to the fields and back for at least the first couple of years they were renting the horses and ponies out. But the linking of the stables meant they could put one of them up in the village or near the fields and just walk the horses from one stable to the other regardless of distance.

               For now, they were keeping knowledge of the linked buildings to themselves as they didn’t want to have their barns be the equivalent of a public floo, or in an extreme example risking seizure of the buildings for the public good. Harry had already made it known that he was willing to be completely mercenary about this, and the rest of the team had agreed. Not to put too fine a point on it, if the word got out that you could link buildings, someone would insist they pursue replication of the process, and there went their horse business. They tried to dispassionately consider and discuss the situation as they didn’t want to hoard something that there might be a critical need for, but currently nobody in the village minded the lack of a floo system, and they weren’t even muttering much about not being able to apparate, just rolling with it and enjoying the walk, or catching a broom ride if they didn’t have their own. They’d work something out if the village developed a future need, but for now, it was going to be considered a Paddock secret.

               The actual breeding and training facilities could be where ever they wanted and the riding schools were at least a year away and more likely two, from being established, they had to train themselves up before getting that part of their operation up and running. So, for now, they needed a local location where they could place one of the linked horse barns and that had enough space for the future academies, but that was it. They had quite a few other barns and buildings still needing reviewed, courtesy of the Malfoy estate as well as a few Harry had kept from his Pack! and dash routine; he’d made sure to give a part of what he figured their value was to Sirius for his help. They were eager to get to the Malfoy buildings up for inspection, Rafe especially was champing a the bit to see if any records for the Abraxan were to be found.

               The location for their secondary site was an ongoing discussion, the sky being the limit thanks to the linked stables and Harry’s land. Last week, the Gnomes had finalized Harry’s gold for land trade and Harry had wound up the owner of the entire western half of the island, although there was a chunk in the far Northwest that Charlie and Sirius had bought of about five hundred square miles. It was nearly all mountain, and Sirius hadn’t said much about why he’d asked the Gnomes and Harry for that section in exchange for a chunk of the Black fortune, but it had still left Harry with about 180,000 square miles. Not quite as impressive as it sounded, a significant measure of it was inland lakes and mountains, but it had a very nice piece of forest, and on the southwestern edge was an immense swath of grassland and beach. Harry had offered up a location on his land if they were interested, or they could remain near the village. There were pros and cons to both options, with no definite conclusion having been reached as yet. They were leaning towards Harry’s land for the tax benefits, a point which had Harry seriously thinking about having his land established as its own entity rather than a province or the like. He was now extremely cash poor; if he had to pay yearly taxes to the Crown for his land he was effed.

               The land acquisition had put him a bit on the spot as he and Sirius had had to front up to Bill, Percy, and The Queen. Although the governmental committee hadn’t yet finished its work, it seemed pretty clear to Harry that the Queen was going to be the Queen and they’d wind up with some sort of Monarchy, probably constitutional, but Liechtenstein had come up more than once as a possible model to follow, the idea seeming to be heavily favored. Either way, Harry wasn’t about to proceed without Her Majesty’s input, as his ownership raised questions about what government his and Sirius’ lands would answer to or if they’d have to establish their own. It had been a fruitful conversation but with few answers available until the final government setup was decided on, something that would be happening quite soon from what he was told. They agreed to meet back up in three months to resolve any issues and formalize any agreements.

               Day Forty:  Neville

               Neville looked down at his absolutely filthy coverall and boots. He’d had the building inspectors out a week ago to advise on his greenhouse drainage and where to draw water from, then hiring their recommended charms contractors to complete the work. An enterprising group of friends had married themselves up to the inspectors, who’d put them through their paces to ensure they could work to the necessary level and requirements before recommending them to property owners. They had promptly been inundated with work orders and Neville knew he was fortunate to have been classified as a priority business. He had nearly all the already established plants Pack!ed up in his storage and they needed to get them out of said storage and growing. Neville had to have a ready supply of water before he could make that happen, hence him being bumped up the list.

               At the time, he hadn’t yet placed Longbottom Hall and now it would have to wait until his name came up on the list again, the manor being residential and not a necessity. As an interim measure, he’d rigged up a small but functional bathroom in the end of one of the greenhouses, next to a cot and couple of boxes holding some of his clothing. Setting his boots aside to be brushed off later, he made use of the shower and stood under the lukewarm water until most of the debris had rinsed off his clothing, then stripped off to scrub at the remaining dirt. He had an appointment to meet with a group of potential employees in thirty minutes and he’d lost track of time while he was in his happy place, which was pretty much any greenhouse, any time, any where. Toweling himself off and putting on a fresh set of jeans and a jumper, he hung his wet clothes over the back of a bench outside the greenhouse to be dealt with later.

               His recent mucky state had been due to working his way through planting various tea bushes with dragon dung fertilizer, well dampened. This past hour had been devoted to cuttings of Camellia Sinensis Assamica, the source of his preferred black tea. One entire greenhouse was slated for nothing but tea bushes of various types, coffee would be relegated to a portion of another. He wasn’t getting into the commercial part of that business, but having bushes well on their way to maturity would allow whoever did take it on to purchase their starting stock from him, after which he’d be sticking to raising enough for himself and a friend or two. Although, he’d no doubt do some experimentation with local flora for new tea blends.

               In a last minute acquisition, he’d managed to get hold of a small independently owned orchard containing several types of fruit trees that included several dozen of his much favored cherries. He’d worked like a man possessed to remove the trees and protect them for transport. He needed to get those back in the ground as trees, for some reason, didn’t handle stasis well. They would start dying off at about ninety days no matter what spell work or containment was used. Those where his cherries, dammit, and he by Circe wasn’t going to let hard work stand between him and the Cherry Bakewell that he’d been craving for weeks now. Next week he’d soon be planting those in two of his greenhouses. Having the fully mature trees would save the community five to ten years of waiting they would have to do if they’d needed to start from seed. He wasn’t willing to be cherry-less for that long, hence his ensuring he started in a better position than seedlings. Again, he wasn’t taking on tending them as a business, he’d be selling off cuttings to those wishing to start such a thing or to those wanting a fruit tree in their yard. He was just ensuring he had the ability to keep the basics going as a failsafe. And so what if he loved cherries enough to make sure he devoted extra attention to the three trees he was keeping for himself?

               Humming to himself, he mounted his seldom used broom, setting off to Gringotts, the Gnomes having decided to keep the name in remembrance of the goblins. Remus, on the other hand, had wasted little time in renaming Hogwarts; it was now Indicia Academy. Remus had been tickled with the idea of a word for finding a clue/evidence being applied to a school, and announced the name change during lunch one day and been met with emphatic nods of agreement.

               Arriving at Gringotts, he entered the indicated meeting room to start talks with Aisling Byrn and the Kenmare Kestrels team in regard to their becoming part of his at yet unnamed business and sponsorship of the team. Neville rather thought Kenmare Botanicals had a nice ring to it, they’d have to see.