Chapter Seven: A Folly

Chapter Seven: A Folly

Siofre and Johannes walked through the woods, making their way through bracken and over fallen tree branches and lichen-covered rocks.

"There was a good path here, once upon a time," Siofre said. "I will have to set Fandenz to fixing that. Just clear a bit away so the walking is easier, of course, not make a formal path."

"That is good. Walking through the trees like this, it is so pleasant, very natural. It would distract to have a path of stone, I believe. The pine needles make a lovely path."

"Aye, they're springy," Siofre agreed.

The two continued to walk and talk, and after about twenty minutes, Johannes stopped and looked around. "This is an old orchard."

"'Tis what remains of the apple orchard here. Since we have orchards closer to the house, we don't maintain it," Siofre said. "We are near our goal now." She pointed, and Johannes could just make out a structure ahead of them.

A few moments later, the two stepped out into the sunshine, and Johannes saw that they had arrived at a gabled cottage of three stories. Unlike the main house with its towers and turrets, this house was not all stone. It was a combination of half-timbering and uncut natural stone of different colours...quite unusual for Scotland, in Johannes's experience...but very lovely on this woody hill. It seemed half-grown from the land and the surrounding woods.

"This was my great-uncle's home," Siofre said. "He was an artist, a sculptor, and he wanted his own house away from everyone. He built this, designed it himself. No one has lived in it since he died back in . . . ninety-three. But the elves come down a few times a year and do maintenance, cleaning, and so on. Still, it is quite old-fashioned. Not really livable yet."

"You have plans to live here?" Johannes asked, puzzled.

"Nay, not for myself and Lydia, of course not. We will stay at the house, as always. But I have been thinking a lot about my granddaughter recently. Not Dorcas...she lives with Maisie, and that's probably best for them both...but Minerva."

"Minerva?"

"Aye. She is at that school of hers almost the whole year long. She used to have a flat in London when she worked at the Ministry, but now she has nowhere to call her own. An independent witch such as Minerva should not feel reliant on others. She is always welcome at home with Merwyn and Egeria, of course, and she visits Melina or Murdoch or other relatives, and comes to visit me, as well, but . . . I thought a place to call her own. This place." Siofre looked up at Johannes, waiting for his response.

"Ah. I see . . . yes." Johannes nodded.

"What are you not saying, Professor?"

"Ah, it is not for me to say anything."

"Come, come, Professor! I would not bring you here and ask for your opinion if I did not want it."

"I believe that Minerva is pleased to spend her time at Hogwarts, and also there is a place, an island, that Professor Dumbledore has. I believe that during holidays, she spends much time there."

"Aye, his island. It is a land out of time and awareness, Professor. It is not a home where one can invite visitors casually...have you ever been invited there or known anyone whom Minerva has invited?"

"I believe that Malcolm and Gertrude visited for a day last summer," Johannes said tentatively.

"Hmph. Still, it is not hers, and it is desolate." She looked around her. "This is . . . isolated and private, but not set apart the way that island is. And that other, that is Dumbledore's island. Do you know its name? Eilean Tèarmunn. It means 'Refuge Island.' A sanctuary from the wizarding world. Not even a Post Owl can get through to it. That is fine as far as it goes, but for Minerva, I would like her to have a place she could come that is hers if she needs it, and not just that island of Dumbledore's. She can use the cottage or not, as she likes...and bring Dumbledore with her if she wishes."

Johannes twitched a smile and quickly suppressed it. He had heard Minerva's grumbling the previous year when she and Albus had returned to Hogwarts from a visit to her Grandmother Siofre. Not only had Siofre given them separate bedrooms, which would have been appropriate and understandable, but she had put them in far distant parts of the house. Not that that could have stopped Albus and Minerva from spending the night together if they had wanted to, but Minerva had taken offence at it. Johannes had the impression that Albus had been merely amused.

"It is a fine offer for her," Johannes said. "I do not doubt that she will appreciate it."

"I think she will appreciate it more once the place is fixed up. It needs a new kitchen, and the plumbing is antiquated . . . I suppose that when we have the plumbing at the main house re-charmed, I will have the wizard redo all of the plumbing here, too." Malcolm had been able to quiet Lydia's pipes, but he said that the plumbing charms were deteriorating and they should have a specialist come out and look at them before they either had no water pumping into the house or, worse, had a back-up.

"Perhaps you should let Minerva decide whether she wishes to accept your offer before you invest in the decorating," Johannes said.

"You think Minerva might not want it? Even if she uses it seldom, it will be here for her. It can be a holiday cottage for now, if she likes, but she will want a family one day and a home to raise her children. Knowing that she has this house will open up more possibilities for her, I am sure. I will do some redecorating, too, of course. I thought . . . perhaps you might assist. I'd like the gardens redone." Siofre walked toward some brambly looking plants and reached out one hand to them. "There used to be primrose everywhere. So beautiful. Now they are just . . . scraggly. Primrose, Scottish primrose, is my favourite flower. Could you do that? Bring them back? And do some gardens? An herb garden and flowers?"

"Ja, natürlich, and the primrose is easy to bring back to health." Johannes crouched and felt of the soil. He crumbled some in his left hand and passed his right hand over it. "The soil is only tired. We will wake it up," he said, standing and turning to her with a smile. "Your primroses will again be beautiful."

"And perhaps you would help with the redecorating? I know that it isn't gardening, and it isn't a part of your job, but I would value your assistance and advice. Minerva will want to change some things, I am sure, but I would like it to be comfortable for her right from the start. Would you mind?"

"I would enjoy that very much, Madam Tyree."

Siofre's expression brightened. "Lydia will no doubt wish to help, as well, when I speak to her about it. She enjoys such things. You haven't seen the formal dining room yet, but she redid that a few years ago with new colours and patterns, and it is a most pleasing room. And I believe you have seen her suite...including her bedroom," she said with a smirk, "and those she decorated herself, as well. She has a nice sense of colour and of comfort. I think she will be rather excited to have a new project, and one where she may have a bit freer rein than she does in the main house, where tradition dictates certain parameters."

"You haven't spoken with Madam Lydia yet?" Johannes asked.

"I will. We can discuss it tonight at supper. Come, let's go in and take a quick look around before we go on to our next destination."

Siofre gave Johannes a quick tour of the house, which was well laid out, though almost bare of any furniture. The ground floor included a wing that extended behind the cottage and contained the usual kitchen and pantry, but also a sort of atelier, a studio where the artist had created his sculptures. Siofre opened a door that led out of the studio to the back garden, and showed Johannes a large kiln.

"I haven't any idea what to do with this," she said. "I suppose we will just leave it and let Minerva decide."

"It is a nice cottage," Johannes said. "I believe that Minerva will be pleased. You are right, though: it needs work."

"It will be a birthday present. It will be her thirty-fifth birthday this year. Her birthday is in October, so we have time, but I hope we are finished sooner so that she may have use of it this summer." Siofre drew out a watch from around her neck and looked at it. "We don't have more time now, though." She looked up at Johannes. "I had wanted to walk the way down, but . . . I will Apparate us part of the way."

Johannes nodded his assent, and Siofre took his arm and stepped closer. He tried not to notice how warm her hands were, or how close she was standing. He placed his right hand on her left arm and closed his eyes, and the sensation of Side-Along Apparition came over him. It was a smooth Apparition, though, and perhaps the most comfortable Side-Along he had ever experienced.

"You can open your eyes now, laddie, we're there!" Siofre said with a smile.

Opening his eyes, Johannes could feel himself blushing, and he let go of her arm, which he had been grasping more tightly than he realised.

Siofre didn't seem to notice, however, and gestured broadly at the area around them. "So . . . what does the Herbologist think? We really should have waited until May, but we can return then."

Johannes looked around them. "It is beautiful." He crouched and touched some of the delicate-looking plants, gently fingering through them, caressing the small buds. "Such variety."

Siofre knelt beside him. "Machair."

"Pardon?"

"It is called a machair," Siofre explained. "This area here above the beach, beyond the bog behind us, these plants . . ." Her hand brushed the surface of the plants, and her fingertips met Johannes's hand. Johannes felt the heat rise in his face.

Siofre glanced at him a moment, then stood. "There is a book in the library that I can show you, today or tomorrow, with a chapter on the flora and geology of the machair."

Johannes rose from his crouch, looking away across the machair, certain that his blush was evident and hoping that the cool sea breeze would hide it. "It is very beautiful. I do recognise a few. Butter flowers...no, buttercups they are called. And there are orchids here. It must be wonderful when it all is in full bloom."

"We will return in a few weeks, then," Siofre said briskly. "But this is not our ultimate destination today."

"No?"

"We shall walk the rest of the way," Siofre said. She looked up at him, a teasing sparkle in her eyes. "You do wish to accompany me, don't you, Professor?"

He bowed slightly. "Indeed."

She raised her hand, and he offered her his arm. Resting her hand lightly on his elbow, Siofre led Johannes down the beautifully carpeted machair toward the beach.

"This is wonderfully fertile country," Siofre said. "There is another area, similar to this, where my father grew bere...that barley you like. It was the best bere you could ever taste, sweetly nutty, with a lovely texture. Now, though, the machair has been returned to nature. That was a long time since."

"Perhaps we...you...might grow bere again. What you do not use, I am certain you could sell."

"It would improve the estate's coffers," Siofre said with a nod. "But I do not know . . . I have a green thumb and do well enough with a vegetable garden, but I never learned very much about farming. I believe it takes special skills. So my cousin Martin always tells me when I visit and admire his fields."

"There are certain skills required," Johannes agreed, "but you could learn them. And you have house-elves who would lighten your work quite a bit. Fandenz is quite talented with plants of all sorts, it seems. If you require cash crops, I am certain you could generate a good income. Even this summer, you will have more produce from the kailyaird than you and Madam Lydia could possibly use, even sharing it with friends and neighbours. There are, no doubt, restaurants or shops that would appreciate your vegetables and be glad to purchase them."

Siofre looked up at him. "It would be good to have another source of income. Not that we are wanting, of course. But there are expenses, you know, and it is good to put something aside for the family's future."

"Then I will earn my keep and my commission and find you a market for your produce. We can begin immediately...there are many lovely greens that are ready now. And the bere? You would like to grow that again?"

"Aye, perhaps . . . but not here on this machair. I will show you the other sometime. And we can discuss it." Siofre sounded doubtful.

"I had a farm in Germany, as well as the greenhouse. We grew cabbages, potatoes, and such. I did not grow a grain, but when I was a boy, I would help my uncle with his farm, and he grew wheat. I believe I could start the bere crop for you."

"We will think about it. I will discuss it with Lydia and ask Merwyn's advice, too."

"It is a large investment," Johannes said. "It is good to consider it carefully."

"And here we are," Siofre said as the rounded the base of a small hill.

"Very charming," Johannes said with a smile. "It is a . . . a . . . what do they call them?" He wanted to say it was a silly, but he knew that didn't sound quite right.

"It is a folly. A shell house." Siofre smiled at Johannes's reaction. "My grandfather had it built for my grandmother for their fifth wedding anniversary in seventeen eighty-two. Come. I'll show you."

The two walked up the shell-inlaid path to the small stone and shell house. It consisted of three rounded sections, and shells decorated the window frames and the doorframe. The shutters were closed, but Siofre waved her wand and opened the shutters and the door. As they stepped into the tiny house, Siofre waved her wand again and opened all of the windows, which swung outward, letting in a fresh breeze.

Inside, the little house was divided neatly into three rooms; each floor was inlaid with both shells and glittering stones in pleasing patterns, geometric and figurative. The centre room, which was the largest, had Poseidon with his trident, surrounded by dolphins, sea serpents, and white-crested waves. The floors of the two rooms on either side each had different scenes of selkies and sea-witches, and fish, dolphins, seabirds, and seals.

The tables, chairs, and benches were all decorated with shells, as were the walls, window frames, fireplaces, and even the ceiling. It was wonderfully whimsical, and Johannes was smiling widely in delight as he gazed at it all.

"This is one part of the grounds we never neglect," Siofre said. "We enjoy it most in the summer, but even in winter, with fires in the fireplaces and the lamps lit, their light glittering off the mother-of-pearl and the other shells, some warm rugs and soft cushions, it is a beautiful place for a casual supper. The waves crash, the wind blows, and in here, it is warm and cosy . . ."

"And romantic. I mean to say, I am sure it must be," Johannes added hastily.

"It is." Siofre ran her hand along one of the shell-encrusted window sills. "My grandmother loved the sea, and this was my grandfather's gift to her, so that she could come down and enjoy the machair, the beach, and the water, no matter the weather. We sometimes have our midsummer bonfire on the beach down below. The last one we had here was a year or two before Mother died. We had fireworks, too. She enjoyed it very much, and it was good for her to be able to come inside and watch from the shelter of the shell house."

"You will do a bonfire here again this year?" Johannes asked.

Siofre shook her head. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it. Now let's see if Multry and her wee ones . . . yes, here we are," she said, opening a shell-inlaid cupboard door. She pulled out a basket and looked into it. "Tea, Professor? We have tea . . . poppyseed cakes . . . and here, some cold milk."

"Yes, thank you," Johannes said. He took the bright blue napkins from the basket and placed them on the nearest small round table, then he helped Siofre set out cups, saucers, and cake plates. He held her chair for her, then he sat down opposite as she poured the tea.

"This is lovely, Madam Tyree. It is kind of you." He put a poppyseed cake on each little plate.

"Nonsense. We need our tea, and you need a bite to eat, too, after working in the fresh air. And we both had a long walk." She stirred her tea. "It has been a good afternoon. I should thank you."

"I enjoyed it very much." He looked at her over the rim of his cup as he took a sip of tea. She was lovely, her hair slightly windblown, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes so bright. He smiled at her. She had enjoyed his company, it seemed, and he most assuredly had enjoyed hers. He took a steadying breath. "I will be forever grateful to Malcolm for referring me to you. Working here is a pleasure beyond the work itself. I am very glad that I have made your acquaintance, yours and Madam Lydia's."

Siofre nodded. "I am, too. And although it may be a convenience for you to distinguish between the two Madam Tyrees by referring to us as Madam Lydia and Madam Siofre, perhaps you might simplify it."

Johannes raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

"I would not be offended if you simply used my first name," Siofre said, "and I doubt that Lydia would mind if you addressed her so, either. It would be easier." Her cheek twitched as she gave a crooked smile. "And you would sound a bit less like one of our house-elves . . . and more like a friend."

"I accept. Thank you. And you must call me by my Christian name," Johannes said.

"Johannes. That is like John, isn't it?"

"Ja. It is one version of John."

Siofre smiled. "I like the way you pronounce that. 'Tchon.' It is charming."

Johannes blushed.

"Really, I do," Siofre said. "You know, I have heard Malcolm call you something else...Honnie?"

"Yes. It is a sort of nickname a few friends use."

Siofre chuckled. "The first time he said it, I thought he was calling you 'honey'! I was a wee bit taken aback."

Johannes laughed at that. "No, just Honnie."

She nodded. "Would you like another cake?"

"No, thank you."

"More tea?"

He nodded, and she poured.

"May we do something like this again?" Johannes asked. "Perhaps this weekend . . . on Saturday afternoon, I am going to visit a garden I worked on last year. I need only spend a few minutes. If there is work to be done, I will return some other time. Perhaps afterward, I might be able to bring you to tea? If you are not busy, of course."

"I would enjoy that. Thank you." Siofre's eyes sparkled at him from across the table, and Johannes felt exhilarated by her smile.

"It will be my pleasure, Madam Tyree . . . Siofre." Her name seemed a gentle breeze from his lips. He smiled softly. It would be his pleasure.