Fury of the Light
Harry was eating dinner with the Girardis. After the cleanup of the day before, and having done a bit of heavy casting over the previous days, he had mostly rested for the day. The invitation to dinner had been welcome, as he really didn't know many people in the town.
Besides, he still needed to look over the notes he had asked Joan to make.
Conversation was fairly comfortable, but Harry noted that Will seemed distracted. Finally he asked, "What's been bothering you?"
Will, who hadn't been concentrating at all, suddenly noticed that everyone was looking at him. Finally he sighed and said, "There was another attack last night. A mosque was vandalized."
Joan became very interested. "What happened?"
Will really didn't want to describe what he had seen. "Someone killed a few animals and used the remains to desecrate it. They also damaged a free-standing arch which has some religious significance. It was an ugly scene."
Joan gave her father a pointed look. He knew what she meant: She still believed it was Ryan Hunter. The problem: There was no evidence.
Meanwhile, Harry still had questions. "So, it's a matter of cleanup and repair now?"
Will shrugged. "I don't know if there are any religious hindrances. You know, consecration rules or some such. But as bad as it was, it probably isn't the worst that could be done. At least it wasn't a fire this time."
Harry nodded. "I guess I can see if they want some help."
Will looked at him curiously. "You seem to be doing a lot of that in town. Isn't there somewhere you're supposed to be?"
Harry smiled and shrugged. "Not really. Learning to live again after tragedy is my current journey. Help out here and there. Who knows? One of my friends in school said I had a 'Saving People' thing. I was kind of infamous for it, really."
Will chuckled. "I can understand that – I have my own thing."
When dinner was done Harry asked Joan, "Did you do as I suggested?"
Helen, who was cleaning up, was curious. "Something I should know about?"
Harry shook his head. "The other night when we talked she had a couple of personal things – non-family, intellectual issues she didn't feel comfortable talking to her normal social circle about. Being as I won't be around for more than a few weeks at most – she felt comfortable asking me. Anonymity and all that."
Helen looked at her daughter and then back at Harry. It just seemed weird. But Harry had been good for both their family and Arcadia – so she resolved to ignore it.
Joan shrugged at her mother in embarrassment. "Yeah. I'm going to go get the book. Since I'm sure Mom and Dad don't want me entertaining strange men in my room," she smirked even as her mother gave her an annoyed look, "I'll bring it back down and we can talk … in the garage. Enough privacy without being … weird."
Harry shrugged.
Joan rushed upstairs and brought back a book in a bag. Helen noticed the book was hardback and green. It looked to be a ledger – but she wasn't sure.
The two went into the garage. Helen was tempted to spy through the glass, but suddenly realized that it was more trouble than it was worth.
Harry finished surreptitiously finished casting a few charms. "Mild repelling and notice-me-not. They know we're here but won't be too interested. So, you got the book? Have you written anything down yet?"
Joan shook her head. "I didn't want to until I knew it was safe."
Harry sighed and looked at her for a moment before holding his hand out. She pulled the book out and handed it to him. He looked through it and nodded. "Excellent. You'll have to give me a minute – I have to remember all the charms."
He concentrated on remembering the ever-lasting book charm as well as the privacy charms needed. The privacy charms were not that hard because he had used them a few times recently. The ever-lasting book charm was one he had only used twice: For Hermione's birthday after the war (and before the massacre) and for a Grimoire for another Hermione in another universe (a gift). He chuckled.
Joan looked at him curiously. "Sorry. You remember our conversation where your young friend mentioned his tutor that I knew?" Joan nodded. "The only times I've used on of these charms were for her … she was kind of like my sister – at least the original."
Joan smiled but impatiently. She really wanted this done.
"Alright. I remember the wand movements." He then cast the spell. When he was done, he leaned against the incomplete boat.
"It's done?"
"Well … not quite. Do you have a pin or a needle?" Harry asked innocently.
Joan shrugged. "Sure." She went back through her house to her room and brought back a needle used for some project she had done for God once. "How's this?"
"Clean it with alcohol."
Joan gave him a look and then went back and did so. Finally she was back.
"Okay. Take it and open the cover." She did. "Now … prick your thumb with the needle and put a drop of blood on that square."
"Ewwww!" She gave Harry a look. "Why do I need to give blood?"
"Blood is the basis of a number of security charms where I come from. Only you, those you allow, and your children should be able to open the book when we're done."
Joan scrunched her eyes. She turned her head as she poked herself. Harry shook his head. This girl was almost a cliché female teenager at times.
"Okay, what now?" There was a drop of blood on her thumb.
"Just smear it against the little box there."
She did. She was fascinated when the blood disappeared. "What now?"
"Write something." Joan searched through the garage and wrote her name on the first page. She then wrote a short paragraph saying what the book was.
"Okay?"
"Go and ask your brother to read it. See what he says. I'm going to ask your father a couple of questions."
Joan shrugged and then did so, even as Harry removed the security charms. He went and asked more about the mosque. When Joan came back down, she had a surprised look on her face.
When Harry led Joan outside, Joan had to control herself. "He could only see some comments about my ex-boyfriend. How does that work?"
Harry replied, just as quietly, "He'll find what he expects to find, except what's there. Only with your permission can someone open it and read what's really there. I imagine he just decided it was a waste of his time?"
Joan nodded. "Part of the security. Uninteresting book, about something he has no interest in. You're safe now."
"Cool!" Joan replied, looking at the book.
"Now, flip through it."
Joan did. She noticed that she couldn't to the end – unless she deliberately pulled the last page. "Very cool!"
"Yeah. So write what I asked. You can use it as a journal of your life. You might need to remember details in the future."
Joan resolved to do that now.
Harry made his way back inside. "I'm going to make my own way back the motel," he told Helen and Will.
The two adults thanked him for coming. Kevin, who had rolled out his bedroom, asked, "You sure you don't want a ride? Lilly's picking me up for a movie and I'm sure we can drop you off."
"Nah. I'm good."
Kevin shrugged. He was moving to the bathroom to finish cleaning up – he wanted to look good for his date.
Harry went outside and moved off of the porch. He paused. Kevin's car was down – it needed a new starter, according to Will. They had been working on it before dinner and the hood was still up.
Harry went over and looked at the car. He glanced to the house and then cast a few charms discretely – better not be to be seen.
He then centered himself and cast a heavy reparo on the car. Luckily, the battery was disconnected – otherwise he might have fried it. And he knew that a battery didn't get damaged with magic if it wasn't hooked up to anything. Earlier, Harry had also glanced through the repair manual Kevin had bought for the car: For the spell to fully work, he really needed to know how everything was supposed to look like when fixed and the idealized drawings were sufficient.
He mused that it was good he had put up some privacy charms. There were definite noises coming from the car as small items slightly pushed out of place adjusted themselves. Small pieces of metal at the bottom of the oil pan from wear and tear moved back through the engine and refused themselves back to their original positions. Slight dings on the doors and other places straightened themselves out.
There were still imperfections in the paint job, but now they appeared to be just placed the paint had worn off instead of the rust that had been apparent before.
All in all, the car looked to be a very-well cared for instead of extremely used.
Harry took the charms down and continued on his way. He found a semi-private spot and then apparated to his motel room.
The girl just home from college had seen the attractive man walk past the trees. She kept an eye out because – hey, she was a woman and she liked to look. And he had been a very attractive guy.
After a minute though, she decided something was wrong. The man hadn't passed the trees and bushes.
Feeling curious, she walked the hundred feet over to the tree stand and casually walked around it. There was no man there. Where did he go? She had certainly seen him walk behind the trees and she hadn't seen him walk out.
Very mysterious. She giggled. Maybe he was a spy!
After a couple of hours, she forgot the incident.
Harry casually walked out of his motel room. If anyone saw him, they would ignore it – he was under notice-me-not charms. Harry had applied a charm that he had learned from one of the Dumbledores he had run into. He was also under a glamour. He had changed his features as he didn't want anyone to tie Harry Planter to this – he had been angry when Will had described what had happened and he decided he was going to do something about it – and it wasn't going to be nice and explicable.
He made his way to the mosque Will had described. There were a couple of cars there. Harry went to knock on the door.
A man of middle-Eastern descent opened the door. He could see another behind him, keeping an eye out.
"Hello. Through a contact I heard of your tragedy. I am considering perhaps helping to arrange for some help for your mosque. May I come in and see the damage?"
Abdul Raoof looked at the man who had arrived at his door. He had been dealing with the attack all day – and dealing with heartbroken and angry members who were horrified with the attack. It had taken much talking to calm them down.
One of his cousins, Jahid, had agreed to stay overnight and watch: No one wanted to allow unknown vandals to come back and make it worse.
He had just completed giving Jahid instructions when a knock at the door came. The man before the door looked to be darker than most Americans but lighter than an Arab – he had trouble fixing his background. The man also had eyes which … what was the word from the song that his little girl had learned at pre-school? … twinkle! … yes, the man's eyes twinkled. But instead of a cheerful face, he looked resolute.
"I am Abdul Raoof Raheem. Please come in."
The man bowed briefly before entering. "I am Maarek Ilumian."
Jahid, who had a degree in anthropology and studies many cultures, tried to imagine where that name came from and what it could mean.
The Imam led Maarek to the large room which served to allow the members of the mosque to pray
The building had been a store in times past, which had been converted into a church. The church had moved to better quarters and he had bought it. Islam had a long tradition of taking the former buildings which had been used for worship by the People of the Book and converting them to mosques.
Some of his teachers had taught that this was to show the dominance of the Islam faith. Abdul Raoof, however, felt that it was just more respectful to use a place already designated for worship to Allah – whatever he was called by others.
The large room had had all of its pews removed and lines of mats had been placed. Because it hadn't been facing the correct direction, the orientation had been changed so that the lines were at a slight angle – and sideways to the room. A divider had been placed so that the women and men were separated. Truthfully, he had spent more time on the aesthetics for the women's side: They seemed to appreciate it more.
The "doorway to Paradise" … the decorated arc which showed in what direction to find Mecca … had been placed so that both sides of the partition could see it.
Westerners decried his faith for requiring men and women to pray separately. But he, as the Imam, knew that this allowed each member of his faith to concentrate upon their devotion to Allah instead of being taken by worldly distractions.
The mats, however, were all now defiled. The arc had been kicked by feet covered in the blood of animals. The divider had been torn down. It would not be difficult, he imagined, to repair the physical damage. The spiritual damage …
Harry looked around the room. He could feel the malevolence that had been present in the attack. The damage was harsh. He turned to the man who ran the mosque.
"This is a terrible sight. Could I ask that you and your man sit at the back and pray while I consider this?"
Abdul Raoof was surprised by the request … and a little confused. But he was pious. A request to pray was not a hardship. He and Jahid took two mats that were not defiled and began their prayers.
When they were fully distracted, Harry cast a silencing charm around them. He then cast a spell which was used by healers in his world to remove blood that had been spilt.
The blood soon disappeared. He glanced back and saw that the two were still praying. He cast a reparo charm at the damaged arc. It reformed into its whole form: The decorations were now pristine and beautiful. The parts that lay around it were reattached and there was no indication that it had even been kicked.
Harry then cast a cleaning charm, with as much power as possible, into the room. The mats, the walls, and the items within the room were all now free of foreign matter.
He looked back once again and then cast several charms at the walls. Anti-fire, anti-hostility … common charms and wards that he had been casting repeatedly recently. Finally he was done.
He turned around and removed the spells which prevented the two men from hearing and seeing what he had been doing. The two finally finished and then opened their eyes.
Their eyes were wide at the changes they saw.
The room was returned to its former state – there were no damaged items fallen from walls, there were no defiled mats. One could not even see where there had ever been an attack at all.
The mihrab, the Gates of Paradise, was now in one piece again. The mosaic which was at its center was once again complete. The divider down the middle of the room was once again complete and in good order. The two men looked at the man who stood at the center of the room.
"The damage to a house of God, a house of Allah, offended me. Just as I have taken steps at the church and the synagogue that were both damaged, I have taken steps here. I am not God, nor an angel. I am not a member of your faith. But I have a great reverence and respect for Allah. My name is Maarek Ilumian, Fury of the Light. I will do what I can to ensure the one who committed the crime is prevented from doing it again."
With that Harry apparated away, leaving two men wide-eyed, kneeling on the floor. They looked at each other and then carefully began their prayers again, giving thanks to Allah for sending a messenger and restoring their faith.
Harry knew he shouldn't have done it, but some things really bothered him. He carefully removed the glamour and cleaned himself up before making his way out. He wanted to get a bite and the diner was nearby.
As he made his way over, the server poured a cup of tea – they had started getting the idea. He thanked the woman and sipped it and then sighed in satisfaction. He caught someone sitting next to him through the corner of his eye.
A boy, looking no older than Joan, sat before him. The boy had spiky hair, a made up face, a number of piercings, as well as black clothes. He recognized him from Joan's description. "Hello. How are things today?"
"Fine. I saw your work."
"I know. It offended me. All of that work at the synagogue and then this happened. I had to fix it."
Goth-boy God shrugged. "Your choice."
Harry smiled ruefully. "Yeah. But I might have gone a bit overboard with the drama – I really don't need to become a part of someone's worship."
God smirked. "Well, you did an okay job at explaining that. The didn't start praying to you."
Harry sighed in relief. He then turned and asked, "You want some pie? I was going to get some."
God actually looked breifly surprised at that. The notion had just come to him. But, getting a nod of approval, Harry quickly ordered the pie.
Very soon, both were eating their pie in companionable silence. They both finished. Harry drank some tea, and God had water.
God held the cup up. "Water. One of my better ideas, between you and me. Water is perhaps the most unique substance in the world."
Harry was curious. "Why is that?"
"The laws of thermodynamics, the laws of motion – I built a structure into the world and it runs by rules. I limited myself deliberately to those rules: Life, especially intelligent life, needs the freedom to decide for itself. But before there could be life, there had to be something which would balance out the rest of the elements and combinations. Every substance gets larger as it gets warmer and smaller as it gets colder – with one exception. Water. Water, when it freezes, gets bigger – takes up more space. Now, there had to be a proper, scientific reason for it, but it's mostly because there had to a balance in place so that life could form. Without water – there would be no life."
Harry looked at the cup that God had placed in front of Himself. "Wow. Never thought about that."
God shrugged. "Just something interesting."
Harry took more tea. "So, any suggestions?"
"Nah. Just keep doing your thing. Your moment is coming. It might be less time than I originally implied: A few decisions have changed the situation: It won't be months to resolve anymore.. I'm not saying it's good or bad, it's just different."
"Interesting. Well, I'll continue with what I think is right. It's all I can do."
God shrugged and got up. He waved backwards as he walked through the door.
FUTURE CONSEQUENCES
6 years after
Lilly smiled enthusiastically as the family came in. "Oh, good! My husband will be here soon."
The man looked at the former nun with a frown. Why was she so cheerful? "With the bus schedule, it was now or be late. Why do we need your husband?"
"You'll see!" She walked over to the man's wife and the baby she was pushing in a modern pram. "How is the little one doing?"
The woman, who seemed sad, replied, "She's doing well. Our parents have been helping since John came back. I just wish things weren't so hard."
Lilly gave the woman a nod of understanding as she put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, Lilly's phone rang. She opened it and listened. "Okay. Good! We'll be right out. Stay there till we come out."
She closed the phone and looked at the couple. "Okay! Come with me!"
Lilly cheerfully moved out of the church.
The family, much more slowly followed. As soon as they exited, they saw Lilly standing next to an older station wagon. The family came up. "Okay! Wait here!" She turned to Kevin and their daughter. "Okay, come out."
Little Olivia climbed out of the car seat she was really too big for as soon as Lilly opened the door.
Kevin, however, took much longer to get out.
The man who was with his family frowned as Kevin exited the car with his wheelchair. He finally asked angrily, "Is this some sort of gimmick? A show? Cause I'm not entertained!"
Kevin smiled as he rolled over. "Nope. I've been in this chair for about … 9 years. Through chance or faith or a miracle …" Kevin reached behind and pulled out a small stick and flipped it. It expanded out and the man could see it was a cane, a telescoping cane. "… or whatever, I have come to the point where I really don't need it."
Kevin stood and carefully walked with his cane. He didn't walk like he was 27 – but he didn't walk like he was 90 either.
The man looked at Kevin bitterly. "Yeah. Great. You got better. It's a miracle!" He closed his eyes and then opened them. "I'm not going to get better! That IED made sure of it. I'll be in this chair," he smashed his hands against the wheels of the chair he was confined to, "for the rest of my life. So why are you telling me this?"
Kevin, having been there, was not offended at all. "Well, considering the fact that I no longer need a wheelchair, I no longer need a car with hand controls. I called my mom who bought it for me and she told me she paid 800 bucks for it from the police impound – and it's seven years older now. So, for 400 bucks, I can give it to someone who actually could really use it."
The man and his wife were staring at Kevin and the car in shock. Kevin looked at the car curiously. "It's kind of surprising. When I got it, it was a heap. But for some reason it seemed to get better as I drove it. Except changing the oil and getting new tires – it hasn't needed service for about five years." He shrugged as he turned back. "Lilly just thought that maybe you could use it more than me."
The man's wife started crying. Kevin, who wasn't good with tears, said nervously, "If it's about the money, you can make payments!"
The woman rushed over and threw her arms around Kevin. He looked at the man who was sitting there. He had been having a hard time getting a job because he had no way of getting to most of the places that were hiring. Most cars with the proper controls cost a whole lot of money. An affordable car he could drive? It was like hope out of the blue, a gift from God.
Even with his wife wrapped around the man, John reached over and shook his hand.
Lilly, who was holding their daughter, smiled joyfully as she watched.