So this is the second chapter of this story, thank you for getting this far and hope you continue.
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Rider of the Singing fish.
Harry rode the whale until they came close to the shore at which point he had to swim the last bit in to land. The water was icy and as he'd been sitting on the whale in the icy wind he barely managed to get out of the water alive what with having to drag the heavy trunks along with him. His first priority was to change out of his wet clothes and luckily because of the women's careful planning his three trunks were waterproof. Getting out of the cold stiff clothes he had been wearing was hard work but he eventually managed to get into dry if not somewhat thin clothes, he ended up with several layers as he didn't want to freeze to death. Hermione and Luna had apparently thought that he would end up somewhere sunny and warm rather than somewhere arctic.
Having changed into the dry clothes Harry pulled his wand out preparing to cast a warming charm on himself, when he suddenly became more aware of his surroundings and the fact that he wasn't as alone as he'd thought.
Several fur clad men with long sharp spears stood eyeing him curiously, visible only by the light of the rising moon peeking out between clouds and he thanked the dark for it not showing his blush at having been caught in his birthday suit. The men almost blended in with the snow in their white furs and Harry eyed the coats with envy as they looked thick and warm. He resigned himself to being cold for a while longer as he didn't think it was a good idea to test if they were magic friendly or not as long as they had the sharp spears.
"Námondil, we shall call upon you when the time has come." Harry turned to look out at the choppy waters as the voice he had heard when he arrived sounded over the wind. The men gathered on the shore with him stirred nervously as they looked for the voice in the inky darkness.
"Er…Hello." Harry greeted, hoping Hermione's translator rune still worked. She had convinced him to have a tiny rune etched onto a tooth, after he'd disappeared for too long once and as he'd kept losing the stones she gave him. Harry still wasn't sure if it had been a punishment or not. The rune was charged to help him understand and speak the common language of whatever country he was in. It wouldn't help him speak the different dialects or minority languages but it meant he could usually find someone to communicate with. The men mumbled amongst themselves in a language Harry didn't understand and his stomach dropped slightly in dread. Perhaps the rune had failed after all.
"You ride the Singing fish in the angry sea. The old man sea calls you Námondil, are you of the star people tribe?" One of the men asked, with a heavy accent, pointing at Harry with a glowed hand. Harry knew it wasn't English as his mouth tingled.
"Um, I'm Harry…er, I mean, Námondil. I am not from the star people tribe but I come in peace." Harry said, remembering the name the water voice had given him to use. He wasn't sure what they meant by star people tribe but they seemed friendly enough as they weren't pointing their spears at him.
"You come to our shelter, we have hot stew. Tribe leader will want to meet you, to see your intent." The man said, motioning for Harry to follow in the darkness. Some of the other men dragged his trunks onto a dog drawn sled they had and slowly they all trampled through the snow, Harry shivering as his newly put on trousers and trainers got soaked by the deep snow. He really hoped that they lived close by, as that hot stew sounded like a really good idea right now.
Well, Harry thought as he sat on a raised bed glaring at the small oil lamp in the centre of the ice igloo he'd been given to stay in, he'd wanted an adventure and he'd gotten one of epic proportions. He was screwed and he had no one but himself and possibly Luna to blame. Well mostly himself as he could have said no to her crazy plan but hadn't. He wondered at his annoying habit of jumping before thinking, although he could be excused this time as Hermione had said that she'd been thinking about it for at least two years, and that was usually good enough for Harry. Hermione hadn't lost her habit of wanting to protect and shelter him as the years flew past, she had in fact gotten worse as it became clear that Harry wasn't aging. She'd admitted that she got worse as she aged but blamed it on having had kids and Harry looking and acting like one. Which was true, Harry couldn't even argue about him acting childlike but it was hard to act differently looking and being treated so young.
Harry huffed heavily, lost in thoughts and a large cloud of breath erupted from his mouth and rose higher looking like a miniature cloud. You would think it would be warmer inside but it was still cold, he was very pleased by the thick furs he was wrapped in though.
The Warg hunter tribe of the Lossoth people, led by Farad the Warg hunter, had accepted him readily after deciding that he didn't seem to pose a danger to the tribe. They were great story tellers and had entertained Harry with stories of great hunts and famed hunters as he slowly got warmer thanks to the warm stew and the thick furs. Harry gathered that they were nomads from their stories and felt comfortable with them as he'd lived with different tribes during his stay in South America, Russia and Australia. They in turn wished to hear about Harry and where he was headed and seemed none puzzled by his explanation of going on an adventure. Harry had glossed over anything about his childhood, magic and had elected not to tell them he was nearing his hundredth birthday as it usually made people uneasy to learn that he was so much older than he looked.
Farad, the leader, had said that the oldest of his five sons was out on his own adventure and wouldn't come back until he had made himself a name. Farad had apparently hunted and killed a great Warg as a fifteen year old when he'd gone to find his name as was tradition for the boys of their tribes. Harry was suitably impressed by the size of the thick fur worn as a cape around the man's shoulders, which seemed to have charmed the leader who had then offered Harry stay in one of the igloos as a guest.
And here he now sat, feeling lost and utterly screwed. He was holding his wand loosely in his hand and wondered what he was going to do.
His wand was ruined, he'd attempted a warming charm and the wooden stick had split slightly from the effort. Hermione had mentioned several times that magical things hadn't seemed to travel well to this realm. He just hadn't thought that it applied to his wand as well, even though it had been made with magic. Really he had been stupider than stupid, he chided himself crossly.
One bright side was that Hermione wouldn't find out, or if she did he wouldn't have to live through the panic the discovery would cause. The other bright side was that he could still feel the magic around him, which gave him hope of finding other wizards and most importantly Wandmaker's. He'd been to other places where magic seemed more tangible and more near at hand. It would just be a matter of finding other magic users without getting into too much trouble on the way, easier said than done when your name was Harry Potter. Perhaps Námondil would have more luck, although he´d been given new names by people before and it hadn't seemed to negate his Potter trouble attraction powers.
Farad had said that Harry was welcome to stay until it was time to leave for the big tribe gathering once the weather grew milder, they apparently hunted whales and ice bears during winter to trade with the other tribes in spring time. Harry had accepted the offer as he didn't have any idea where he was and what dangers that lay in wait for him to discover. Besides this way he'd get a bit of a bearing to what the world was like through the tribes history and stories.
The sudden change from summer and day to winter and night had thrown Harry for a loop. He wasn't sure where he was or when and the tribe didn't carry maps as they followed the stars as all their ancestors had done before them. But he shouldn't complain as this was what he'd wanted, something new and unknown. He felt truly alive for the first time in a long while, not simply existing in a vacuum surrounded by never ending change.
Even with the time difference he was still able to sleep soundly and woke feeling refreshed when his door flap was pulled aside in the early morning of the next day. A woman, judging by the long dark braid that hung on the outside of the fur coat, came inside carrying a steaming bucket and some cloth for him to refresh himself with. She eyed him shyly before placing the water besides him and then quickly exited without a word to join a man who was waiting outside.
Harry quickly undressed all his layers of clothes in the lamp lit room and then swore loudly as he became aware of why his arm had hurt the night before in the water. He was right in that he hadn't been bitten by an animal, it was much worse than any bite he could ever be given. There on the inside of his right arm was the black outline of a small tattoo. It was a mark he knew intimately, holding a meaning that he'd been glad to have left behind for good. Black lines traced the shape of a circle within a triangle and a line cutting through them both. He was not free of them after all and now he never would be. In a perverted way he'd rather have back the words on the back of his hand that detentions with Umbridge had made. Hermione had invented a scar reducing potion for him to use which had done wonders to erase the words that the blood quill had left. He scrubbed at the new tattoo but finally gave up as the cold air was getting to him. He pulled on dry clothes and peeked outside at the snow which seemed to have deepened overnight. He was glad for the fur cloak he'd been lent the night before.
"Námondil you come share meal with Farad and other men." A young boy said, standing up from the ground which he'd been seated on as he waited for Harry, motioning for him to follow with a proud look on his face. Large dogs were tethered outside and Harry wondered what Hagrid would have said if he caught sight of one. They resembled wolves more than dogs really and they were of a huge size.
"I be Àslat, son of Simit the Bear-meat curer, I learn Westron at market and I speak with you now." The boy introduced himself eyeing Harry interestedly as children were wont to do with any strangers.
"You ride the Singing fish in the cold water, I hear men speak?" The boy asked as they neared one of the larger igloos and looked suitably impressed at Harry's nod of affirmation, he then ran off towards a huddle of differently aged children who quickly gathered round him to hear the gossip about the new mysterious guest. Harry continued on inside, at the motion from an older man sat smoking a pipe outside the big igloo.
"Ah Námondil come, come sit here. We have food ready so we will eat." Farad said, indicating a spot next to him on the fur covered ground, as Harry entered. There weren't as many men as the day before but now there were even a few women present.
"My beloved Lejá, the mother of all my strong sons." Farad introduced proudly and Harry nodded respectfully at the short and stout woman who stepped forwards eyeing him shyly. Soon he was served a bowl of fish stew which really shouldn't have made him as excited as it did, but he was still feeling chilled and the stew was warming. After breakfast the men were heading out to track in the icy land hoping to find something worth either trading or eating. They invited Harry to come along which he did after they made sure he had the right gear. The thick furs made it harder to walk but they were warm and Harry found himself almost too hot by the days end. They had killed a large oxen and Harry was suitably impressed by their hunting skills.
He had learnt to use a bow and arrow when living with a tribe in South America and the Warg tribe hunters had deemed him an adequate hunter when he caught two snowy white rabbits in quick succession using a borrowed bow. Harry was just glad to have contributed in some way to his kind keepers. He would do what he usually did when living with indigenous tribes and offer potions or rune work as payment for letting him have room and board. If they had any witches or wizards in their tribe he'd offer to teach them some of the government approved potions and runes.
The ICW had decreed that magical knowledge could be offered to indigenous people under certain criteria's such as portraying oneself as a wise man or woman. The rest of the muggles in the tribe were not to know about magic but often the tribes had an explanation for magic anyway and as long as you played on that, things were ok on a government level. Harry wasn't sure what kind of rules existed here, wherever he was, but if he did something wrong he was sure to find out and would have to sort it out at that time.
The weeks flew by quickly as Harry got to know the tribe and the people in it. He got on well with Farad who seemed to know that Harry was more than he was letting on and thus treated him well. Farad's wife Lejá turned out to be a gentle woman who loved her husband and sons. She always made sure Harry had everything he needed and wanted for nothing, perhaps it was on her husband's orders but Harry appreciated it none the less.
Àslat proved to be a hoot as he seemed to have appointed himself as Harry's guide and always seemed to be around whatever corner Harry turned. It was through Àslat that Harry met twelve year old Tátá, the son of an older hunter who'd had his arm bitten of by an orca when whale hunting. Harry had sensed that Tátá was a wizard the moment they met and had petitioned Farad to be allowed to teach the boy some of his customs as Harry called it. Farad had been surprised by the offer and had instructed Harry to ask the boy's father instead, although he'd seemed happy with the respect shown by asking him first. Àslat had been somewhat jealous that Harry had chosen another boy as his companion but as Tátá was put to work and didn't seem to do anything more interesting than looking at dried plants he'd overcome his initial anger and graciously forgiven Harry.
Tátá's father Tárek hadn't been too sure about letting his son learn from the stranger but as Tátá had come home bearing a heavy silver coin after his first week of studies, and every week after that, the man had accepted Harry as his son's new teacher. The coins could no doubt be of use in the spring when they went to market as they mainly sold goods his wife made, due to his arm having been taken by the whale. The boy had been instructed to listen well to Námondil or there would be trouble at home.
Harry now eyed his young apprentice Tátá critically as the boy carefully stirred the gently simmering fever reducing potion, his second solo brewing since Harry had started tutoring him five weeks ago.
"You will have to take it off the heat soon, do you see that the colour is changing to a darker shade?" Harry asked making the boy nod, his eyes studying the potion intently, before lifting it off the flame and placing it on a small wooden table standing next to him.
"I let it cool now and then put in jar?" Tátá asked as he relaxed now that the stress of watching the potion was over.
"You did well, this can be used if someone gets sick. " Harry said and nodded as he gave the boy a smile. Tátá beamed a proud smile before rattling of how and when to use it, showing that he had been paying attention to Harrys lectures. He then slowly but diligently read from the potions book they had been working from. Two weeks ago the boy hadn't ever seen written characters and now he was reading from a book. Harry was amazed at the boy's intelligence and memory but as the Lossoth didn't write or read he guessed that it was a matter of necessity to have a good memory.
He gave the boy another pleased smile. Tátá was one of the best students he'd ever had the pleasure of teaching, he might even be more thirsty for knowledge than Hermione. The boy had already memorized four potions and all the plants and animals Harry had identified so far as having healing properties in the land he now found himself in. He'd also memorized the plants and items that Harry had brought with him thanks to the ever planning Hermione.
Harry had snorted at finding the note from Hermione instructing him to plant the seeds she'd had the foresight to send with the dried plants as she'd worried that the plants might not exist where he was headed. She had also cautioned him not to spread the seeds all over as it might cause an adverse effect on all the native species, but to grow the plants in a green house and place restrictive runes at the entrance to stop self-fertilisation outside. So far the seeds lay protected in his trunk as the icy weather meant nothing would grow anyway. The potions Harry had taught Tátá were made up of ingredients he'd gotten from the tribe, as Harry wanted to be sure that Tátá could brew them easily. Harry had become very proficient in potions since leaving the Aurors and going on his many adventures. Finding himself in an unknown environment with unfamiliar plants and animals had taught him how to improvise which had saved his and others lives more than once.
Tátá had at first been a somewhat reluctant student but Harry had figured it had something to do with the others being unsure of Harry's intentions. The boy had however been completely convinced once Harry introduced him to his first patient, a small white fox with a chest infection and mange, found by the hunters and then given to Harry who'd spotted a chance for teaching a bit of healing to his new student. The fox had since been healed and now followed Tátá around like a lovesick puppy as the boy spoilt him with scraps of meat and scratches behind ears. He was the envy of all the other children who now wanted little white foxes of their own much to their parents chagrin.
They had now started studying runes and Harry had focused on runes which would be of use for the tribe, like runes that alerted against dangers or protected water supplies and food stores. Tátá didn't quite understand what Harry meant by feeling power and letting it flow into the stones or wood as he carved but he was none the less trying diligently. He had a good grasp on how to carve the runes and as soon as he cracked the code of letting his magic out they'd no doubt be of good use. Harry knew that the concept of power or force was hard to explain or understand to someone untrained or without knowledge about magic and it wasn't until it was felt by the person himself that they fully would understand. Harry had, had troubles with teaching it to others before but they eventually seemed to get it given enough time. Unfortunately they didn't have an unlimited time left though as Farad had told Harry that they were getting ready to move on now that the weather was getting warmer. Not that Harry had noticed much of a temperature change but he figured that the tribe knew what they were talking about.
The skin covering Harry's door-opening suddenly drew open and Àslat entered looking worried.
"Námondil, Farad need you now." He said motioning for Harry to quickly follow.
"Fill the jars with the potion and then you can practice with the stones." Harry instructed Tátá who nodded earnestly.
Harry hurried after Àslat who seemed to be in a great rush to reach the leaders igloo. He noticed that the others who were outside also looked worried. He entered Farad's igloo and furrowed his brows at the sight of the tribe leader lying paled faced in his bed. There were bloody rags in the floor and the shaman stood mule faced in a corner eyeing Harry with ill-concealed scorn.
"What happened?" Harry asked pulling his mokeskin pouch out as it contained a small potions kit, before he drew the animal skin covering the man off without asking.
"Ice bear was a worthy enemy." Farad whispered weakly eyeing him with dark eyes in a pale face.
"I hope he looks worse than you." Harry muttered, giving the deep scratches a hard look, bringing a strained smile on Farads face.
"He will make good skin for my sons." Was all the answer Harry got before Farads face relaxed and the man drifted into unconsciousness. His wife and sons, who were present, made noises of distress but as the man was breathing Harry still had time.
"Bring me hot water and I want Tátá brought here with the healer's bag." Àslat ran quickly from the room and Harry felt reassured that his orders would be followed. He now concentrated fully on examining the many and deep wounds the man had gotten. The shaman had smeared some sort of earthy smelling paste on the wounds and Harry smelled it trying to work out what it was before asking the man. The shaman only answered as it became clear that the others in the room expected him to. Harry nodded in thanks and felt better knowing it was safe herbs and not something harmful. He was handed a bowl of steaming water from Lejá who gave him a pleading look to help her husband. Harry sprinkled a good pinch of some dried healing basil into the water. He then pulled out a glass vial from his small emergency potions kit and placed it beside himself before carefully starting to wash the wounds clean with the fragrant water. Tátá appeared at his side, placing Harry's bag next to him and eyed Farad with big worried eyes at the sight of the man's wounds.
"Tátá, wounds like these must always be cleaned so that there is no dirt left to cause flesh-rot. You make a mixture from the Kingsfoil plant and hot water." Harry told the boy who gave his leader a last look of worry before snapping into student mode. Kingsfoil Harry had learnt was the name the Lossoth called healing Basil, a herb that grew further south in the lands. Harry had told Tátá the importance of acting rather than not doing anything in situations like this and the boy now looked at him ready to do as Harry ordered.
"Then we give Dittany and if he get fever we give fever reducer potion." The boy stated looking at Harry for affirmation.
"This is a deep wound so it may take time to heal. He may also be in pain so we will give him a pain reducer so that his body can heal properly. "Harry said motioning for Tátá to help him bathe the wound with Essence of Dittany. The boy pulled a hard soap from his pocket and went to wash his hands carefully, as previously instructed by Harry who was a big believer of good hygiene, before returning and dutifully started bathing the wound. Harry carefully fed Farad some of the pain reducer he had and gave the man a thorough looking over to make sure he hadn't missed any wounds.
"Was anyone else injured?" He asked looking at the other hunters who still stood gathered quiet and sombre in the room.
"Malak was dead by the ice bear." They told him and Harry sighed heavily thinking of the man's widow and two young daughters.
"I'm sorry to hear that. He was a good hunter, husband and father." Harry said making the other men nod in silence.
"Námondil this one is disappeared. " Tátá whispered, eyeing the newly healed skin where a shallower scratch had been before.
"Good! Continue bathing the others, we will need to leave a dressing on and change it during the night. I hope that you got a good night's rest as we will be awake tonight tending to the wounds." Harry stated making the boy nod quickly as he eyed Harry with big eyes, seeing Harry and his skills in a different light. The boy was doing well, Harry thought, as it was the first time he was treating a human and perhaps the first time he saw injuries such as these. Harry felt a bit worried that it was too gruesome for the boy but then chided himself. Children from tribes, such as Tátá, grew up quicker and needed to in order to survive in often hostile surroundings.
"You are doing well Tátá, I am proud of you." Harry said, making the boy look down at the floor with cheeks reddening as the praise was given in the open where many of the tribe hunters could hear it. The shaman who'd stood quiet with arms crossed, eyed the wounds healing before him with narrowed eyes.
"This is your tribe's powers? Why you teach the child? I know many things to barter with you, children know nothing of use." The shaman said eyeing Tátá with the same scorn Harry had been given before the man now had proof that Harry held some powers that were of use to him. Some of the hunters moved closer to get a look at their leaders healing skin and gave Harry looks of wonder.
"My tribe only teaches children and they have to show signs that they are receptive to our teachings. If I didn't see the signs in Tátá I would not have taught him anything and then your tribe would not benefit from my tribes knowledge. And Tátá is a very good student, he already knows more than any of my other students at this time in their schooling." Harry answered lying through his teeth about only teaching children, not liking the man's tone or looks. He didn't think saying that the shaman had next to no powers compared to Tátá was a good idea. Tátá eyed him with surprise, not having known that he possessed any signs that had opened up for him being taught anything as amazing as Harry's powers. He then blushed again at Harry's open praise.
The shaman huffed and eyed Harry suspiciously before sniffing proudly and seating himself in a dark corner, eyes fixed on an unbothered Harry who was used to glares being sent his way.
"I will keep watch in the night and if the great spirits come to claim Farad Warg hunter I will guide him right so that he may join the great tribe leaders in the eternal hunt." He stated with dark eyes boring into Harry who shrugged. The man just best stay out of his way though or he'd be booted out, spirits and all.
Lejá who'd given Harry space to work now came closer, wringing her hands worriedly giving Harry a hopeful look.
"I will give him more healing potions but he should be fine." Harry reassured her. His potions should work well on Farad as all of the Lossoth people had some magic in them, not as much as Tátá but enough that Harry wondered if they all were squibs with a hint of magic. He would have to meet other people to know for sure, it might be that magic was simply more abundant here in these lands. He'd noticed that his potions and runes acted differently, some had a stronger reaction and others a weaker. Even the few spells Harry knew wandless seemed to be either amplified or powerless, not that he'd had a chance to test it out much as he was surrounded by people all the time. The joys of living in a cramped camp with people who were used to living in each other's pockets.
Lejá smiled weakly at his words before straightening and shaking off the worry with a determined look on her face.
"You need food to work in the night." She stated and left to cook which was fine with Harry and Tátá, by the hungry look that appeared on the boy's face.
Harry tended Farad all through the night and by morning the man looked almost completely healed, some of the deeper wounds would need to be tended a little longer but they might only need Murtlap essence from now on. Harry had given him a dose of Blood-replenisher, as he'd seemed very pale and Farad's face now looked rosy and hale. Thank Merlin for Hermione's emergency potions kit Harry thought, making a note to brew new potions as soon as he could to replace what he'd used. Tátá had stayed awake until Harry had told him to rest, at which point he'd slumped into deep sleep at once were he was sat. The shaman had fallen asleep almost as soon as the last hunter had left the igloo and silence had descended disturbed only by the man's loud snorts as he slept.
"I live still, to see the sun rise again." Farad mumbled as he slowly woke. Tátá jerked awake at the light sound and blinked owlishly at the tribe leader before eyeing Harry with a look of awe. The shaman gave a loud snore which woke Lejá, who'd slept fitfully beside her sons. She muffled her astonished gasp with a hand, at the sight of Farad awake and carefully getting into a seated position, before hurrying over to gingerly touch his cheek. Her four sons all came tumbling out of bed after her and soon cheered at the sight of their father looking alive until Lejá chided them and cautioned that their father was still healing. The shaman looked like he couldn't decide whether to be pleased or disappointed at Harrys healing success. He inclined his head to Farad in respect before stiffly exciting the igloo no doubt to go back to his own home to sleep some more.
Harry was treated with more warmth and respect by the tribe as the weeks leading up to their journey south were drawing nearer. Tátá was learning how to deal with his new found roll as a respected healer's apprentice. The tribe all saw the value of having someone in their tribe with powers like Harry, who had saved their leader from his gruesome wounds. Harry had cautioned Tátá to not let his head grow too big and to remember to treat others with the same respect he was given. The boy had promised to use his knowledge for good only, with such fervour that Harry had, had a hard time keeping his face straight. Merlin, he wondered if he'd ever seemed that young and innocent.
During the evening talks by the fires, there were talk of the dangers the journey south would bring. One night Harry was told of the Black beast men, an enemy of great significance to the tribe. Many a tribes throughout the years had been all but wiped out by raiding bands of the foul man creatures.
"They come from the north in the dark of the night." The grizzled hunter said in a quiet tone, his words heard by all gathered as they held their silence.
"Women, children even the dogs they kill. None is spared their slaughter and torture." He continued darkly before almost draining his cup of strong mead. One of the other men quickly topped his cup up with more.
"Arms, legs and heads they rip off. Nothing but burnt fur, gnawed bones and broken shelters they leave to be found by others." He said darkly and the men looked down as if in remembrance of past attacks.
"The dark spirit leads them and they are filled with his powers. The Black beast men can be killed by men but they do not fear death, for their evil spirit leader can bring them back to cursed life." The man spat on the floor in contempt.
"The old stories say that the Black beasts were human men like us once, but they followed the dark spirits summons and were made into creatures of evil." The gathered men muttered among themselves and gave each other looks as if to check that all present were of good character.
"The evil spirit will have to be killed before the beast men can be crushed forever." The hunter said darkly and the men looked away, none willing to go out and find the evil spirit at the present moment.
"The spirits cannot be killed by men, they are the creators of all and even the evil one has powers to create." The shaman said standing up, leaning hard on his staff. Harry had spied him drinking liberal amounts of mead and wondered how the man managed to get up at all.
"When the evil spirit looks away we have days of peace and prosperity and when he looks our way again we must guard our tribes and tend our families." He stated lifting his staff in the air importantly before wobbling slightly and sitting down again. He motioned for more mead and greedily drained half his cup, clearly feeling as if he'd added value to the story. The men started dispersing into the night, ready for sleep in their safe shelters. Harry wondered at the beast men, were they werewolves or of a similar kind. Tátá his ever present shadow eyed him with big eyes and Harry decided that perhaps it was time he led the boy back to his parents and they both went to sleep in their beds.
The shaman had finally come round grudgingly and now saw that Tátá could be a great asset if used correctly, the boy certainly didn't seem to know how to use his powers for profit. Harry didn't mind as long as Tátá was treated right, his father would no doubt make sure he wasn't taken advantage of. Harry had made sure to impress the importance to Tátá of not teaching his potions to others. Potions may not need wands to be magical but they did need a witch or a wizard brewing them to become magical and not simply a poisonous slurry. The runes he didn't care about as without magic they were just a nice etching on a hard surface.
The shaman even treated Harry with a lofty acceptance as Harry had come to him for advice, somewhat against his own better knowing. He'd been having vivid dreams, reminiscent in strength of his visions about Voldemort, and he'd mentioned them to Farad one night as they sat gazing out at the icy bay. He'd been wondering if the lands and structures he dreamt of had any baring in the land he now lived in. Farad had urged him to talk to the shaman who specialized in interpreting dreams and not wanting to insult Farad by ignoring his advice, Harry had gone and spoken with the old wise man.
The dreams weren't bad per say, just extremely vivid. He dreamt that he was flying, which wasn't odd as it had been a favourite past time of his for years. He was high up in the air, soaring over valleys and deep dales. Mountains loomed above him, lakes glimmered far below and deep forest of green spread out over vast lands. Every dream sent him flying over new lands but he always came to the same white medieval city and landed by a tall white tree all withered and dead. And then he woke feeling refreshed and ready to get on with his day, all but thrumming with pent up energy.
The shaman had told him it meant he was being told by the spirits to travel out into the world to continue on his adventure and that he had stayed too long in one place. And that perhaps if he found the tree, or what it symbolised, he could help heal it as that was what the spirits might have tasked him with as a mission. Harry was pretty sure the shaman just wanted him to leave and get going already but had thanked the man for his services with a galleon which had made the man's eyes gleam greedily as he had weighed the heavy gold coin in his hand.
All of a sudden the day was come, they were packing up their things and getting the dogsleds ready. Harry who had sorted through his trunks had his own sled to place his three, now lighter, trunks onto. He was planning to gift one of the trunks to Tátá when they separated, so that the boy had somewhere to keep his potions items but for now he used it for himself.
Àslat, Tátá and all the other children had been delighted when he invited them to receive some strange gifts from his trunks. He´d handed out clothes, shoes and other odds and ends which marked him as an outsider and had no use here. He figured they could barter them away for something useful at the market if they wanted to.
Tátá, who was staying with Harry full time now as Harry wanted to teach the boy as much as he could before they parted, had been given a few things in private. Harry had given him an ornate knife, which Harry knew he'd never use himself as it was too gaudy with a snake head and several colourful stones set into it. Hermione and Luna had filled one of the trunks with jewellery and other precious things for him to sell or barter.
The boy had accepted the knife as if he was handed the Excalibur and had carefully and secretly taken it to show his father with pride. They seemed to be under the impression that it was a magic knife to be used when preparing the potions ingredients and that Harry had given it as proof that Tátá was nearing the end of his studies. Tárek had personally come to thank Harry for offering his son an honourable place in the tribe and had said that Harry was forever welcome to stay with the family if his journeys took him back to them again.
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Well that's the end of this chapter, hope you liked it