... which means that the unthinkable has happened: it's finished!
Chapters 1-13 can be found here.
In which Holmes and Watson discuss one or two remaining questions on the train South
Epilogue: Homeward Bound
The great Aberdeen-London express had left the soaring mountains of the Scottish Highlands far behind, and was racing through the rolling hills of Fife, where the corn stood tall and golden in the late summer sun. We were perhaps half an hour short of Edinburgh when Holmes stirred and woke from his slumber, scattering the papers that had piled up about him like drifted snow.
“Well, Watson,” he said, indicating my notebook, “I see you have wasted no time in chronicling our latest adventure. I am glad that you consider the subject a worthy one.”
“A most worthy tale indeed!” I exclaimed. “I would not have missed it for the world! I only doubt my powers to do the subject justice!”
Holmes chuckled.
“On the contrary, my friend,” he said with a smile, “I can think of no story better adapted to your powers of sensationalism and melodrama. The tale is overblown, the villain grotesque, the young man at the centre of the story most dreadfully wronged… in short, to entrust this story to any other hands would be criminal.”
“It’s a fine story, and I really believe I can make something truly splendid out of it,” I replied. “But it is not quite finished yet. For what has become of the Ravenclaw Codex?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Holmes in that offhand way that I knew so well, “the Ravenclaw Codex is currently in the possession of Godfrey Easingwold, ironically enough. He would have handed it over on the spot, I believe, but I was not quite easy in my mind about his security in London, and in the end I persuaded him to take it with him as a guarantee of safety. So long as Black and his minions leave the lad to recover in peace, the Ravenclaw Codex will return with Easingwold to Hogwarts. However, should Black cause any member of the Easingwold family – or their guests – so much as a moment's worry or inconvenience, Easingwold or one of his companions will convey the Codex secretly to the Reading Room of the British Museum – for I think I may safely say that it would never occur to Black and his like to venture there. There it will be held in a place of honour, where that the finest scholars in the world may come to learn from it, and delight in it. You might argue, indeed, that it will have come home at last, to be cared for by the true heirs of Rowena Ravenclaw – she who loved wit and learning above all things.”
“Bravo, Holmes!” I exclaimed. “I cannot think of a more worthy fate for that noble tome! But even so, the story is not quite at an end. What of Weaselby's tale? Of O'Connell's papers? Will their testimonies enable you to put an end once and for all to the machinations of the sinister Black?”
Holmes’s face darkened.
“Weaselby's tale,” he said after a pause, “was of little practical use, for all that I rejoiced to hear it, and learned much that will gladden the heart of brother Mycroft. Weaselby loved my brother dearly for his kindness when he first came to Hogwarts as a penniless and friendless (if pureblooded) child. However, Weaselby is not gifted with any great powers of observation or memory, and he can shed little light on the case itself. I have more hope, strangely, of O'Connell's papers. One can never fully trust the motives of a man of that sort, but there are little, indirect clues contained in those papers that may yet carry me a long way towards my goal. And if that is not far enough, well, I must resort to other means!” A fierce light came into his eyes, such as I had not seen since his final encounter with the late Professor Moriarty. “For men like Black are a pollution that both blight the world of wizards and, worse, spread their pestilence into ours – and I intend to put a stop to it, no matter how heavy the cost or how long it takes! If I could but free the world of Black’s malign influence, I truly believe that I would go to my grave a happy man.
“But enough of that. My poor Watson, you are looking quite done up. The air in these magical institutions can have a noxious affect on the unprepared, and in any case it would be the height of folly to return directly to London. O'Connell's fair words and promises are all very well, but they do not go quite far enough for me. I believe we would do well to alight at Newcastle or thereabouts, and make for the coast. The climate and scenery are, I believe, excellent at this time of year, and you will have ample time to take the sea air and compile your notes, while I subject O'Connell's papers to a really thorough examination. Oh, and I would recommend that you make at least one extra copy of your record, and secrete it in a safe place before our departure: one can never be too careful when dealing with these people.”
“But Holmes,” I exclaimed, “surely you do not mean to suggest that Black and his cohorts will fall on us unawares and take our memories from us, in spite of all you have done?”
Holmes considered this for a movement.
“It is possible, I suppose, but unlikely,” he said. “Once Black's behaviour becomes common knowledge among wizards (as it inevitably will), he will hardly be able to move against us directly – and even if he did, my behaviour when I left London was so eccentric that I expect to be pestered with questions on the subject for months: I feel quite certain that one or the other of the clues I left in the course of our journey to the station would be bound to jog my memory sooner or later – those that were not secret messages to Mycroft. It does not pay to leave such matters to chance, that is all.
“But perhaps I am giving the man too much credit,” he continued as our train slowed slightly in preparation to cross the Forth Bridge. “For what, after all, are the works of wizards, compared to what we have achieved here? Look, Watson!” he cried, gesturing towards the struts and spars of the towering, iron-red structure as they flashed past the windows of our carriage, “there's a miracle, if you like; there's a worthy subject for the history books; there's a fitting use of human talent and ingenuity! Why fear Black and his like when the future belongs to us? No wizard could build such a bridge, or the Crystal Palace, or Eiffel's tower in Paris; no wizard could invent the telegraph, or the smallpox vaccination, or the steam engine: why, the very train we took to Hogwarts is copied from a Muggle design! So long as we have science at our command, our future will contain miracles that will make the very best that Black can offer seem like the tawdriest of music-hall performers.
“But for now, let us turn to more pleasant matters. On our departure, O'Connell was kind enough to furnish us with a most splendid picnic, including a selection of bottles that appear to have been purloined from friend Black's special cellar. It is perhaps a little early in the day, but you and I need not stand on ceremony. Can I tempt you to a dram of whisky? Or perhaps a little of this rather unusual cognac?”
THE END
The great Aberdeen-London express had left the soaring mountains of the Scottish Highlands far behind, and was racing through the rolling hills of Fife, where the corn stood tall and golden in the late summer sun. We were perhaps half an hour short of Edinburgh when Holmes stirred and woke from his slumber, scattering the papers that had piled up about him like drifted snow.
“Well, Watson,” he said, indicating my notebook, “I see you have wasted no time in chronicling our latest adventure. I am glad that you consider the subject a worthy one.”
“A most worthy tale indeed!” I exclaimed. “I would not have missed it for the world! I only doubt my powers to do the subject justice!”
Holmes chuckled.
“On the contrary, my friend,” he said with a smile, “I can think of no story better adapted to your powers of sensationalism and melodrama. The tale is overblown, the villain grotesque, the young man at the centre of the story most dreadfully wronged… in short, to entrust this story to any other hands would be criminal.”
“It’s a fine story, and I really believe I can make something truly splendid out of it,” I replied. “But it is not quite finished yet. For what has become of the Ravenclaw Codex?”
“Oh, as to that,” said Holmes in that offhand way that I knew so well, “the Ravenclaw Codex is currently in the possession of Godfrey Easingwold, ironically enough. He would have handed it over on the spot, I believe, but I was not quite easy in my mind about his security in London, and in the end I persuaded him to take it with him as a guarantee of safety. So long as Black and his minions leave the lad to recover in peace, the Ravenclaw Codex will return with Easingwold to Hogwarts. However, should Black cause any member of the Easingwold family – or their guests – so much as a moment's worry or inconvenience, Easingwold or one of his companions will convey the Codex secretly to the Reading Room of the British Museum – for I think I may safely say that it would never occur to Black and his like to venture there. There it will be held in a place of honour, where that the finest scholars in the world may come to learn from it, and delight in it. You might argue, indeed, that it will have come home at last, to be cared for by the true heirs of Rowena Ravenclaw – she who loved wit and learning above all things.”
“Bravo, Holmes!” I exclaimed. “I cannot think of a more worthy fate for that noble tome! But even so, the story is not quite at an end. What of Weaselby's tale? Of O'Connell's papers? Will their testimonies enable you to put an end once and for all to the machinations of the sinister Black?”
Holmes’s face darkened.
“Weaselby's tale,” he said after a pause, “was of little practical use, for all that I rejoiced to hear it, and learned much that will gladden the heart of brother Mycroft. Weaselby loved my brother dearly for his kindness when he first came to Hogwarts as a penniless and friendless (if pureblooded) child. However, Weaselby is not gifted with any great powers of observation or memory, and he can shed little light on the case itself. I have more hope, strangely, of O'Connell's papers. One can never fully trust the motives of a man of that sort, but there are little, indirect clues contained in those papers that may yet carry me a long way towards my goal. And if that is not far enough, well, I must resort to other means!” A fierce light came into his eyes, such as I had not seen since his final encounter with the late Professor Moriarty. “For men like Black are a pollution that both blight the world of wizards and, worse, spread their pestilence into ours – and I intend to put a stop to it, no matter how heavy the cost or how long it takes! If I could but free the world of Black’s malign influence, I truly believe that I would go to my grave a happy man.
“But enough of that. My poor Watson, you are looking quite done up. The air in these magical institutions can have a noxious affect on the unprepared, and in any case it would be the height of folly to return directly to London. O'Connell's fair words and promises are all very well, but they do not go quite far enough for me. I believe we would do well to alight at Newcastle or thereabouts, and make for the coast. The climate and scenery are, I believe, excellent at this time of year, and you will have ample time to take the sea air and compile your notes, while I subject O'Connell's papers to a really thorough examination. Oh, and I would recommend that you make at least one extra copy of your record, and secrete it in a safe place before our departure: one can never be too careful when dealing with these people.”
“But Holmes,” I exclaimed, “surely you do not mean to suggest that Black and his cohorts will fall on us unawares and take our memories from us, in spite of all you have done?”
Holmes considered this for a movement.
“It is possible, I suppose, but unlikely,” he said. “Once Black's behaviour becomes common knowledge among wizards (as it inevitably will), he will hardly be able to move against us directly – and even if he did, my behaviour when I left London was so eccentric that I expect to be pestered with questions on the subject for months: I feel quite certain that one or the other of the clues I left in the course of our journey to the station would be bound to jog my memory sooner or later – those that were not secret messages to Mycroft. It does not pay to leave such matters to chance, that is all.
“But perhaps I am giving the man too much credit,” he continued as our train slowed slightly in preparation to cross the Forth Bridge. “For what, after all, are the works of wizards, compared to what we have achieved here? Look, Watson!” he cried, gesturing towards the struts and spars of the towering, iron-red structure as they flashed past the windows of our carriage, “there's a miracle, if you like; there's a worthy subject for the history books; there's a fitting use of human talent and ingenuity! Why fear Black and his like when the future belongs to us? No wizard could build such a bridge, or the Crystal Palace, or Eiffel's tower in Paris; no wizard could invent the telegraph, or the smallpox vaccination, or the steam engine: why, the very train we took to Hogwarts is copied from a Muggle design! So long as we have science at our command, our future will contain miracles that will make the very best that Black can offer seem like the tawdriest of music-hall performers.
“But for now, let us turn to more pleasant matters. On our departure, O'Connell was kind enough to furnish us with a most splendid picnic, including a selection of bottles that appear to have been purloined from friend Black's special cellar. It is perhaps a little early in the day, but you and I need not stand on ceremony. Can I tempt you to a dram of whisky? Or perhaps a little of this rather unusual cognac?”
THE END
no subject
Date: 2008-01-02 11:21 pm (UTC)That was an extraordinarily fitting end to a high entertaining story. Holmes' monologue at the end there in particular made me very happy. It is a) the kind of sentiment I always wanted someone to express in a HP fanfiction (if only to counter all the weird pureblood fetishizing that sometimes happens) and b) so very perfectly Holmes that I feel compelled to observe that, if Doyle had ever been inclined to write a story that pit Holmes against a supernatural world, he would have given Holmes a very similar sort of speech.
And now that it's done, I'm off to rec it in my journal!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 01:03 am (UTC)Maybe a sequel, after Holmes has gone through O'Connell's papers?
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 04:31 am (UTC)"The air in these magical institutions can have a noxious affect on the unprepared." - HA! I can just hear him saying it too.
I love Holmes's closing words, especially about the Hogwarts train being 'copied;' - I've always loved that it was a steam train in the first place, and the homage to Muggle invention with all that you mentioned was brilliant, touching, and exactly what Holmes would think. Not for him to remain wrapped up in the gloomy clouds of what went on in his latest adventure; he prefers the real things in life.
Bravo!
And yes, there had better be a sequel.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 10:30 am (UTC)Aha! Then Holmes didn't really retire to take up bee-keeping, and all that Mary Russell guff is just a cover story?
The whole thing was simply marvellous. I look forward to the sequel...
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 10:59 am (UTC)I have such an image of the Codex in the Reading Room - and I wonder what other peculiar texts have been squirreled away there. I love, love, love Holmes' pride in the works of man - the bridges and the Eiffel Tower and so on, it makes much sense for a man of his era, when everyone was wondrously impressed with how clever they all were.
It's been so much fun to read along with this! Congratulations on getting it done!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 01:33 pm (UTC)In short: this is the kind of story that makes me regret that I've already Niffled one of your fics, as this would have been an ideal Niffle!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:20 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked this part - I've really enjoyed reading your comments on this story!
And thank you for enjoying Holmes's little monologue on the wonders of Muggle technology. It's actually inspired by the end of one of the later short stories (annoyingly, I can't remember which one), in which he points out board-schools from the train window, as beacons leading to a brighter future...
And a rec? I'm honoured! Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:22 pm (UTC)Maybe a sequel, after Holmes has gone through O'Connell's papers?
I have vague ideas for one or more sequels - though not all of these feature Holmes going after Black straight away...
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:28 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked the Ravenclaw's heir conceit - nobody ever said it had to be an heir of the blood, did they? Black just assumed it!
Thank you for picking out the closing words on the miracles of the modern age - over Christmas I saw a lot of stuff on the Victorian age on the TV, and it really hit home how proud and optimistic people were then about their acheivements and their future.
There may well be sequels - I've got several ideas that I think would make nice short stories - though sadly the Adventure of the Absent Stag-Beetle is still not fit for the world at large, not even after all these years! Still, other prospects beckon: The Adventure of the Three Lovegoods, anyone?
Thank you as well for all your lovely reviews while I was writing this!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:34 pm (UTC)I have several ideas for sequels. It's a question of getting a coherent story out of an idea - and finding the time to write it down...
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:43 pm (UTC)I'm glad you approve of the Codex's fate (interestingly, everyone seems to assume that Black will do something and that's where it'll end up!). And "when everyone was wondrously impressed with how clever they all were" pretty much sums up the Victorians, doesn't it?
I'm glad you enjoyed following this - despite the long breaks between updates...
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 02:46 pm (UTC)It's an honour to get approved by a Niffler even once - I'm proud to lap up the praise even if it doesn't translate into a Niffle (and why should it? Plenty of excellent stories never get Niffled!)
I believe it may have been you who drew my attention to the precautions, and reminded me that I shouldn't leave that bit of the story hanging - so I'm glad you noted them!
And yes - I do have certain plans for one or more sequels - not necessarily all of them taking on Black - but it's early days yet.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 07:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 08:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 03:45 am (UTC)Also, I loved the epilogue. Holmes's speech is great!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 04:41 am (UTC)Pogo is a possum and Everyman as well.
The critters in that particular icon are Albert Alligator, Howland Owl, and Churchy La Femme, a turtle.
Your fic (and sheer magnitude of concept) are extraordinary.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 05:13 am (UTC)I of course grew up with tactile versions of the comic strip, being read out loud to me, so...my admiration for it knows no bounds, and makes websites like these probably something better for the fans.
And yes, I want The Adventure of the Three Lovegoods. Very much!
I wonder if our age has the same kind of pride & optimism the Victorians did? ...in thinking about it, I tend to feel a sense of world-worry!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 02:20 pm (UTC)