Chapter 7 — Blind Magic

The next day a buzzing noise invaded the quiet and Siri said, "Scooter," to explain, which actually didn't explain. A snowmobile finally came into view around a tree-covered point in the lake. The rider got off and spoke with Per. Something like an argument ensued, where Harry was certain the rider wanted Per to come back with him. Per waved him off and the man reluctantly departed, slower than he had approached.

Per and Siri then exchanged words. "Come," she said, "we should not keep them waiting." She moved to get the skis and re-tarred them quickly. Per stalked off to check the smokehouse. He made a point of moving more wood inside. Harry moved to help but Siri restrained him with a shake of her head.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, quiet enough to not be heard four huts down.

"The village over the mountain needs a Seer," she explained.

"Per is a Seer?" Harry asked with interest.

Siri frowned and tilted her head while she worked at smoothing a ski bottom. "He used to be."

"Oh," Harry said, grasping at understanding.

"But used too much it is like staring wide-eyed into a blizzard and going snow-blind," she explained. She finished the last of the skis. "Fortunately, I am a Seer," she breathed more quietly.

"Why don't you go?" Harry asked, accepting his skis back, hopeful that they would work better somehow.

She gave him a wry grin. "Woman cannot be Shaman," she explained.

"Why not?" Harry asked sharply.

"There is not supposed to be any magic at all anymore. Per is accepted, but I would not be," she explained gently before going inside to collect a pack together. She came out and silently handed Harry a light sack of supplies to carry. Harry must have still looked difficult, because she pointed out, "You hide in your home country as well," which Harry couldn't argue against. She added, "Per is a very old friend to me."

Per reappeared, looking sullen. He took up his skis without putting them on and grumpily held out his arm. Siri grabbed it and they both disappeared. Maybe I'm not going, Harry considered, although he held a freshly tarred pair of skis. Siri reappeared with a bang and took Harry next.

They Apparated into the forest and Per was already gliding away. Harry struggled to get going and get into Per's trail where he stood a chance of not being a drag on their travels. They slid down into a village composed mostly of cabins with a few of the turf-covered huts. The simple wooden cabins looked like the life of luxury to Harry with their metal smokestacks out the top and tightly sealed walls with no drafty airvents for the fire.

People gave Harry glances and then ignored him. He took off his skis and propped them on the side of a cabin with a long row of others. Then he hung back and watched as a discussion involving the lake ensued. Per gazed out over the water and the crowd fell silent. People were ice fishing out in the middle, otherwise there was nothing of interest. Per stalked away to the left along the frozen surface of the lake. Only Harry spotted that Siri had tugged the back of Per's coat in that direction, and the group made their way down the lake shore following him. Harry followed as well along the top of the low hill that bordered the village. The wind was stronger up here, but it was warmer here in general, so it felt almost balmy.

Per led the way, Siri just behind. Eventually they stopped about a half mile down the lake. Harry had long since moved in closer, keeping himself just outside the crowd. Per pointed at the ice below him. A chain saw started to life and a stout man moved in to cut in the ice. Harry, intensely curious what exactly was going on, moved farther on away from the crowd to see better. The chain saw whirled higher pitched and was plunged again into the ice to form a square. When the ice broke loose, the saw was pulled with a jerk out of the way of the water that surged in as the ice block bobbed. The chunk was leveraged out of the way and a pole with a hook was put down into the hole. Surreally, someone sobbed just once, a woman. Harry leaned against a sapling and stood on tiptoe to see better. The hook had grabbed on something bright blue with red and white tassels. It matched the hats some of the villagers wore. Hands reached in and a body was heaved onto the ice.

No one made a noise; everyone moved efficiently to lift the body onto a tarp and away back toward the cabins. Per and Siri remained behind. Per, with a great shove of his foot, slid the block back into the hole with a splash. He then gestured impatiently at Harry to follow. Harry hurried over. Strands of red and white yarn had frozen to the ice where the body had laid, only for a minute. He hurried past, jogging to catch up to his hosts, who seemed in an even less talkative mood than usual.

It wasn't until they were back to their own hut and having a meal of reindeer meat, bread, and tiny berries that Harry couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He turned to Siri and asked, "Why was that person under the ice?"

"Accident or he was old," Siri explained.

Harry puzzled this, wondering bizarrely if somehow the man accidentally didn't stay above the ice, forgetting it was there because of a failing memory. Another possibility then occurred to him. "Oh," Harry said.

"The home is death too," Per muttered.

"The home?" Harry asked.

"The state-run home for those who cannot be cared for in their village," Siri clarified. "It is considered a slow death by some."

"Ah," Harry said, understanding that, but not feeling any happier.

- 888 -

"Come in, Severus," McGonagall invited when a black-robed figure appeared on the staircase to the Headmistress' tower.

Seeming distracted, as he had the last two weeks, Snape accepted the indicated chair and stared into the hearth. A jangle of porcelain brought his attention to the teacup and saucer the headmistress held out to him.

"Have some tea. I have chocolate as well . . ."

"What?" Snape uttered, pulling himself into the present finally.

A crystal model of Hogwarts Castle drifted nearby, suspended on a thin metal arm off the corner of the desk. It swung over Snape's teacup when he set it down, scattering miniature snow into it, creating a puff of steam.

"How is Harry?" McGonagall asked over her own steaming cup. "You have heard from him, I assume?"

"Yes. Hedwig is reluctant to make the trip, but I have convinced her to do so twice and will do so again soon." Snape clasped his long-fingered hands in his lap and resumed staring at the hearth. "He is living in a turf hut, apparently, despite the arctic temperatures and nearly nonexistent sunlight, but he insists that his host is keeping the Darkness at bay. He is also learning to ski," Snape added as an afterthought, sounding wry.

McGonagall didn't respond right away. The bright partial moon appeared and disappeared from the charcoal clouds out the tall window behind her. Two clocks ticked in tandem, setting a rhythm to the crackles of the fire. A portrait near the ceiling snored faintly.

"So, what is wrong?" McGonagall finally prompted.

Snape huffed. He had not moved at all in the silent minutes. "I do not know if I am doing the right thing, sending him off like that to someone I barely know anything of."

McGonagall smiled lightly. "You'll never know if you are doing the right thing. You just have to try your best," she stated philosophically. "Things in the end always seem to work out."

Half a minute later, Snape snorted.

"Your tea is getting cold," McGonagall pointed out.

Snape stood and excused himself, gaze still inward.

"Severus," McGonagall called when he had reached the doorway. "It will work out."

"Are you branching into Divination, now?" he asked with some derision.

"No," she said, smiling against his harshness. "I have just never seen Harry defeated by anything, that's all."

- 888 -

Short days passed north of the Arctic circle. In the mornings before Per got around to it, Harry fell into a routine of hacking the hole in the lake ice back open and splitting a fresh supply of wood from under the big tarp. The task was easy now—his aim as good as a practiced Quidditch Beater—but also satisfying, because the benefits of it so stark, as in, having water to drink and not freezing to death overnight. These meaningful, athletic tasks left him relaxed and almost tranquil for much of the day.

The sky glowed blue-grey earlier in the day now and stayed that way longer. The temperature didn't seem to improve much as a result. Hedwig returned again with a bundle of letters from all of Harry's friends. Harry impatiently finished the chopping before returning to the hut to answer them all. His hand cramped as he wrote out replies, already growing unaccustomed to holding a quill.

After Hedwig headed off with an equal bundle of letters, Harry swallowed a sigh at the notion that he had nothing else to do now. Siri's narrow weaving was hanging from a nail on the wall. "Can you show me how to make one of those?" Harry asked, pointing.

Rather than getting annoyed at being interrupted from the work of pounding something in the stone-floored kitchen area, she gave Harry a broad smile. Without speaking she located a folded and sliced plastic card and long lengths of yarn. She started a weaving by tying each thread to a stick, notched to hold the yarn securely. At the end she made a hoop with the excess, just the size to hook it over a toe. Then she meticulously slipped each length of yarn through a slot on the card, alternating edge and fold for where they passed through. Folding and flipping the card up easily swapped the two layers of thread to make a weave. This didn't produce a pattern though, Harry noticed, after he passed the longer weft thread back and forth a few times, getting corrected in silence with slow re-demonstration. The trick of using one's finger to bunch the weave the same tightness after each pass of the weft was going to take some practice, Harry could see.

Harry only had two colors to work with, white and red and the old shoe band Siri laid beside him had a pleasing, and dauntingly complicated diamond pattern on it. She took the weaving back from him and slowly showed him how to swap selected threads from the edge of the card to the middle to get the colors to change. Or, alternatively to skip selected thread when passing the crosswise weft thread through. Harry realized that even a simple diamond was going to take some concentration, which explained how someone could bend for so long over the task.

She handed the rig back to Harry who hooked it on his toe and stretched his already stiff back before hunching over to try the next line. He undid it many times before deciding he had finally gotten it right. Siri moved back into the kitchen and said, "I will make you a matching hat. Then all you will need is some reindeer." She was grinning broadly as she said this.

When Per reappeared, Siri announced, "We need supplies."

Without further discussion, they put every empty sack over their back and shoulders and, towing the sled, skied to the village at the far end of their lake. Harry's skiing was almost acceptable, he thought, although he was by far the slowest. Siri didn't suggest Apparating this time and Per started out fast, getting far ahead, which implied that he did not want to. They made the distant village in four hours and some, by Harry's watch. Most of the good daylight was gone the fires inside the huts windows glowed even from a distance. There were three cabins in this village, one of which housed the store.

"We will stay here with a friend for the night," Siri informed Harry.

This raised Harry's spirits. He waited outside as his hosts greeted and caught up with acquaintances. A pair of girls trudged by wearing tunics with colorful belts around the waist and thigh-high fur boots. They giggled at him standing there and glanced back many times before going out of sight. Harry doubted they spoke English, but he wouldn't have minded a little conversation with someone his own age, even one-word sentences. He sighed, leaving a puff of breath in the air.

A group emerged from the hut, including Harry's hosts and they all trudged down to another hut and piled inside. Harry bundled his feet under him to keep them out of the way. Conversation bubbled and then quieted. Harry looked around at the various faces, all worn and lined except for the very young. A plastic bottle of something alcoholic was passed around. Harry, feeling like he should remain alert, passed it up. The offerer said something insistent and Per explained—Harry assumed—that he didn't speak the language. An uproar of sorts ensued at the stranger in their midst and explanations and questions went back and forth until the topic was dropped as suddenly as it had been taken up. The small children were lying down, Harry wished he could too; it had been a long trip getting here although neither Per nor Siri showed any effects. Harry shucked one of his jumpers in the warmth of the hut and hung it up where the other guests had, on one of the crossbeam poles. His clothes were looser, Harry realized as he straightened his soiled shirt. They needed a wash but that had only come up once and had involved tediously heating lake water and very cold hands and in the end, even with the help of some spells that Harry had never been very good at, things hadn't gotten all that clean, or at least not house-elf clean.

Pipes were drawn out and the hut filled with blue smoke. Harry was offered a pipe that he turned down also, to much amusement of the assembled. The women sitting at the edge of the stone floor by the window gave Harry small smiles of sympathy at the ribbing. Eventually the crowd thinned and Harry could stretch his sore legs out. Their hosts were a man and woman and two small children. The man made a strange sound after he put the children down to sleep as though singing but not like any singing Harry had ever heard. It put him strangely in the mind of waterfalls and rolling waves. He had to shake his head to clear it in fact, the image was so strong. Harry lay down now that no one was paying any attention to him, making certain to leave space for Per and Siri who were also sharing the left side of the hut this time. The singing sent Harry directly off to sleep despite the loudness of it.

Harry woke in the middle of the night when the fire shifted. Per was adding wood, carefully lining the logs all up in the same direction. Harry raised his head and looked at the sleeping forms around the hut. Per sat back, reclined against the entryway log and sucked on a pipe. He gestured impatiently with his head that Harry should go back to sleep. Harry lay back then, realizing that Per had to stay awake to guard everyone from the Dark Plane. Harry glanced at the fur bundle on the far side that held two children and hoped he was indeed a Master of this.

A commotion interrupted their fish breakfast. Someone was knocking on the door and calling for Per. Siri followed quickly out the door, both dressing as they went. Harry was slower but the crowd still huddled in the middle of the village when he made it out. Several people were talking to Per with animated gestures. Harry watched as Siri looked around, gaze distant. She had to pretend to be nothing, Harry thought, and do Per's job. Harry at first had wanted to think less of the Shaman, but anyone willing to stay up all night to keep Harry's Darkness at bay, Harry could hold nothing against. The conversation went on. When Harry saw Siri shake her head every so slightly at Per, Harry moved into the crowd.

He tugged Siri by the sleeve away from the others and asked what was going on. Per either noticed this or just happened to step away, moving the villagers with him. "What is happening?" Harry asked, feeling like himself for the first time since he had arrived. His wand felt warm in his cloak pocket.

"A child went missing in the night. The villagers believe the Shaman from the neighboring area is responsible." At Harry's mystified look, she explained quietly, "It is believed the Shaman take the form of wolves to wreak havoc on rival Saami."

"Do they?" Harry asked, thinking that Per had made a point about the reindeer he had taken down not having an owner. Perhaps that wasn't ordinary care.

"Perhaps," she replied. "Partly they believe this because Per is here now. Coincidences are not readily accepted here."

Harry, feeling danger on more levels than he had recognized before, said, "I know some tracking spells. I can find the child," he said. He had even practiced in the snow, he thought gratefully. "What house did the child disappear from?" Harry asked insistently.

Per led the crowd farther away. Siri said, "Per is explaining that he doesn't have his drum, but he doesn't really need it."

"But he isn't a Seer anymore," Harry insisted.

"He can often manage. He can be stubborn about these things, and sometimes the trees tell him, I think. Or he uses a wolf's sense of smell." The crowd had moved far enough on. Siri headed the other way and stopped before one of the cabins. "This one," she said.

Harry pulled out his wand and looked all around. "No one is supposed to see," he explained, although the British Ministry of Magic certainly wasn't going to know. Harry wondered who else might notice magic in the middle of a nonmagical village; not knowing made him more careful. Siri moved to stand between his wand and the crowd, which wasn't paying any attention to them.

Harry whispered the tracking spell which caused glowing trails to appear on the packed snow, colored according to how old the tracks were. There was one set of small tracks leading away, orange because they were old and then a gap in colors until red for this morning. The orange trail disappeared between the buildings.

"Nice magic," Siri breathed.

"Why don't you have a wand?" Harry asked.

Siri tilted her head side to side. "It would be talking to me all the time. I would have to get rid of it."

"This has never talked to me," Harry said as they moved to follow the trail. "Although it has gotten me into an awful lot of trouble with its silence."

Rounding the next cabin hid them from view. Harry repeated the spell and the tracks reappeared leading up the hill and disappeared from sight in the copse of trees beyond. Snow hadn't fallen in a few days so the physical tracks were not distinguishable from the general pounding the ground had taken. "I'll fetch Per," Siri said.

Harry stashed his wand away and stood off to the side. Per passed a minute later, leading the crowd. He turned and with a sharp argument and a gesture, insisted they stay behind. They clearly didn't want to do this. Siri stood in their path and the crowd seemed to deflate, letting Per walk away. Harry took a few quick steps to join him. Per walked on without speaking, with Harry jogging occasionally to keep up. They made the trees and Per kept going. Harry considered repeating the spell but he would have to stop to do so. Per seemed to know where he was going, so Harry followed beside along the well-used trail of packed snow.

Per stopped suddenly and Harry had to turn and step back to rejoin him. A trail crossed the main one, a trail of large dog tracks. Per started out again. He stopped again a few steps later and turned left, following a small set of prints through the close brush. Harry wanted to ask if children were silly enough to run off at night often. It seemed a self-limiting behavior. He remained silent however. Per shifted to wolf form and sniffed the air before shifting back to himself without breaking stride. The trail stopped at the edge of a steep downhill of rocks. The view would have been breathtaking if the situation had not been so serious. Snowy hills stacked up on top of one another all the way to the pink horizon. Harry tried the tracking spell but it came up empty.

After they stood there for a cold minute, Harry suggested, "Maybe she turned into a bird?"

Per tilted his head and appeared to give this due consideration. "Perhaps an äparistook her off in revenge," he replied, suddenly speaking clearly, although Harry's eyes seemed to be blurring strangely as Per spoke.

"What's an äparis?" Harry asked, when he decided that wasn't just an English word he wasn't hearing properly.

"A ghost we don't want to meet without Siri here to put it to rest." He finished this in a way that made Harry's skin prickle. Per turned back into a wolf and scanned the distance before transforming back to man. "Can you take us?" he gestured forward ahead, seeming angry at himself.

"Sure," Harry said and took the arm held up for him. Harry focussed on a point three hilltops away and bunched them both down for the trip. They reappeared on uneven stone and struggled to stay upright.

Per turned into a wolf again, and this time he growled before he transformed back. "There, a wolf leads her." He pointed. Harry followed along where Per indicated and with a great deal of squinting and pushing his glasses up his nose, could barely make out a figure in blue moving among the rocks following something grey. Per transformed yet again and started down, slaloming easily between the rocks. Harry followed slower, not wanting to intervene in something he wasn't completely clear on.

The invading wolf heard or smelled them approaching and it turned and snarled. Per continued forward, weaving around the larger boulders. Harry realized as Per got close that the invader was substantially larger, with a collar of long thick fur and beefy haunches. Per on the other hand was as boney a wolf as he was a man and the match didn't look so promising. The wolves faced off and growled in unison, fangs bared. Per lunged.

"NO!" Harry shouted, fearful of the mismatched outcome and perhaps remembering too starkly the fight between his godfather and a werewolf. Harry transformed and leapt from the nearest high-jutting rock, flapping twice to get above the fight, his wings relishing the cold wind. The invading wolf turned its snout up in surprise as Harry angled his wings and dropped forward fast. The wolf dodged as he descended. Harry swerved as well, cutting him off and then swerved farther to separate the invader from the other two figures. The girl let out a squeal of panic. Harry's claws hit and he hefted the thrashing wolf into the air and tossed it aside. It landed hard and struggled to its feet, red streaked on its flanks. Harry wondered if it were truly animal or just a man.

Harry used his wings to hop agilely from rock to snowcapped rock, following the creature as it angled away. It turned and lunged at him, but a powerful flap took Harry easily out of reach and, as he drifted back to earth, he took a swipe with claws as long as the wolf's snout and much sharper than its teeth; it heeded and jerked away.

Harry, not fully understanding the situation, wasn't keen on seriously injuring the wolf, which was now slinking off with purpose, belly low. Harry hopped a few more boulders to follow and make certain it slunk away for good. Eventually, it found a wash and disappeared more rapidly. Harry landed and looked back. Per, now human and leaning down to talk to the girl, gazed at Harry in wonder. Harry flapped his way back over to them. The child gaped at him, eyes like tea saucers before burying her face in Per's coat. Harry transformed back to himself, but Per gestured for Harry to go, holding the girl's eyes against him so she could no longer turn to see the human Harry.

Harry transformed again and flew back up to the ridge where he watched Per carry the girl over the rocks and up to the top much farther down. When they were gone, Harry flew down to the wash and made sure the wolf had continued to retreat, and indeed, it was crossing over the next hill already, moving fast. Harry followed and landed ahead of it. With a last sweep of his wings for balance, he transformed back to himself and pulled out his wand.

"Are you man and not beast?" Harry demanded and then berated himself inside because were this another Shaman, he probably didn't speak English. The wolf growled. "One bark for 'yes'," Harry joked and to his surprise the animal barked once. When the wolf tried to advance and pass him, Harry aimed his wand and said, "Don't."

The wolf turned to him with a furious glare in its eyes. "What were you thinking?" Harry snarled, making the wolf pull its head back in surprise. The wolf simply glared balefully at him in response and finally Harry ordered, "Get out of here."

The wolf sidled away. "And don't come back," Harry added.

At this the wolf turned and gave Harry a look of derision. But Harry's anger was opening gateways again. Things slithered and snapped their jaws. Many, many things. An oily air blew around the rocks. The wolf froze for just an instant, eyes wide, ears back, before it loped away in a panic.

"Oh well, that worked," Harry said, calming himself with the humor, which helped the noises considerably.

Worried now that more villagers were in the area that might see him, Harry Apparated back to the top of the first ridge, rather than fly, and then began walking, reversing their earlier route. "Sure, sure," Harry said aloud. "That idiot is going to go home and insist some friggin' British dark wizard has invaded Finland." He sighed and shook his head. "Talking to myself is not helping."

When he reached the trail finally after two wrong turns, Per was there. He seemed relieved to find Harry. "I scared him off," Harry said. "Or the Dark Things scared him off, anyway." Per shook his head, looking like someone who had been in a panic and now realized it was for nothing. "Sorry," Harry said, regarding the gateway. "I got angry with him." Per didn't comment just started walking back the way they had come.

A party was in full swing when they returned. They were urged to stay but Per shook his head repeatedly and they went back to the hut to collect their things.

Packs laden from a visit to the supply story, which opened just for them, the three of them headed back over the frozen lake. Harry's legs felt like jelly and he really didn't think he could make it all the way back, even with his pack as light as it was compared to the others'. After they were out of view he was going to ask if they wouldn't mind him just Apparating the rest of the way, but after fifteen minutes or so, his legs unstiffened and warmed to the task and the miles disappeared behind them. When they arrived, he helped unload and immediately curled up for a nap under his cloak, even though the hut was icy from the fire being out.

Harry woke again to a meal of reindeer meat and more of the bitter leaf mush in sweet milk, which wasn't half bad now. As well there were now oranges from the store. Per and Siri ate bites of the peel as well as the middle. The coffee could lose the salt still, but this serving had whiskey in it, so it mattered less. Per ate, seeming impatient about something before dressing again and disappearing out the door. Harry sat twiddling his thumbs without anything to do.

"Do you wish to help with the bread?" Siri asked.

Harry shrugged, bored enough to take any task. She gestured for him to come to her part of the hut. Harry moved to join her, but stopped at the edge of the stone floor. She gestured again for him to come closer. Harry pointed out, "Per said I shouldn't be on the stones."

She gave Harry a narrow, doubtful look. "Are you certain you defeated Voldemort?"

Bemused, Harry replied, "Yes. Very."

"Per did not say to stay off the stones." She gestured with her arm back and forth. "He told you not to cross the stones. To go around the goahti the other way."

"Oh," Harry said, thinking that made more sense, but then thinking again that perhaps it didn't. All parts of the hut seemed more or less equal to Harry.

Harry made loaves of bread, kneading and flattening with his fingers. Siri started a lesson but halted it to just watch. "You are good at this," she said suspiciously.

"What?" Harry's thoughts had flown off elsewhere, to Hogwarts, to the Ministry, to Belinda, which had sunk him into a moment of anxiety. "Oh, yeah. I had to do a lot of cooking for my aunt and uncle, to earn my keep, I guess, when I lived with them." He set that flat loaf aside and started on another ball of dough that was handed to him.

"The stone should be hot enough soon," Siri said, putting a crooked, time worn finger on it. "Almost."

Per returned later and crouched beside Harry, taking a chunk of the bread that was on the stone and eating it. He looked Harry over as he ate, seeming to be thinking about what to say. Instead, he spoke in Saami to Siri who returned a question and a long conversation ensued.

Siri finally said, "He says you can become a monstrous cat griffin. He didn't think the British had this art."

"It isn't very common," Harry admitted.

"He says you took on the Skolt Shaman without hesitation."

"I wasn't sure it wasn't just an ordinary wolf," Harry pointed out, moving the bread from the stone to the coals to brown. "And at the time I was a beast too. Besides, how evil could he be? He doesn't have a wand."

Sternly, Siri said, "Do not underestimate powers you do not see."

"I'll try not to," Harry said, but found himself dismissing the events, nonetheless. "What did he want with the girl?" Harry asked.

Siri replied, "Probably just wished to increase the rivalry between the groups. When people lived closer to the reindeer, slaughtering a few guaranteed this, but now the reindeer are on their own more, so the dead ones aren't always found."

Harry frowned at this explanation. "I didn't know if I should kill him or not."

His hosts gave each other a long look. Siri said, "Sending him off defeated is best. He will be embarrassed to return."

Per was still eyeing Harry very closely as though they had just met. Eventually, he backed up and occupied himself with looking for something among the lockers. When all the bread was baked, Harry returned to his side of the hut and relaxed on the soft furs, enjoying the heat of the fire. The wind was lower today so the smoke trailed obediently out the hole at the top of the hut and the place was actually quite pleasant.

Per took out his drum and eventually the brass ring. Again the ring ceased its bouncing over the distorted stick demon. Per put the drum away and took out his pipe instead. After a long span of smoking he said, "Tell me a story."

Harry wasn't certain who was being addressed but Siri was looking at Harry expectantly so he said, "A story about what?"

Per shrugged, gaze far beyond the sapling and turf walls.

Harry sat up and crossed his legs. His socks were wearing out, he noticed, and his big toe was peeking out on both feet. "Um, you want a story about me, or Britain . . .?" Per didn't respond, just puffed on his pipe. Harry waited for an answer but these two were good at silence, so he didn't get one. "I could tell you about Dumbledore, he was the greatest wizard of our time. When he died, he was over a hundred and sixty years old-"

"A story," Per repeated.

Harry stopped and thought that over. A story. He had never really told a story before, he didn't think. "Um . . ." Harry finally began. He wanted to tell a story about Dumbledore, but where to begin? When he and the old wizard first met, Harry was too young to remember, although Hagrid had described the meeting often enough. "Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was already older than most when he took over being headmaster." Harry paused, this was hard, he thought. Especially since Harry really didn't know the old wizard all that well, really. He had to guess. Harry waited for Siri to finish translating before going on, "He needed to live longer, though, because he suspected that one of his old students was going to sink deeper into evil and would need to be countered. So he and another wizard by the name of Nicolas Flamel created a Philosopher's Stone. Flamel was a master of this and was already eight hundred years old."

Per sat up a bit at that with a sharp look and, for a moment, ignored his pipe as he took in Siri's version in Saami. Harry went on when it was quiet. "Dumbledore didn't just finish Riddle off though, I don't know why," Harry said in frustration.

"Story," Per insisted sharply.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, forgetting. Also forgetting where he was going with the story. "To combat Voldemort's rise to power, Dumbledore gathered his friends and others together in an organization called the Order of the Phoenix. The Ministry didn't believe in the threat that he warned of, so they had to operate in secret as well. They also had to operate in secret because when Voldemort learned who they were, he would seek them out and kill them, or send one of his Death Eaters to." That is what happened to my parents, Harry wanted to say, but it needed to be a story, so he said, "More than a decade into this struggle, Dumbledore heard a prophecy that said that one was coming with the power to destroy Voldemort. Lily and James Potter, who were members of the Order, fit the prophecy and went into hiding. They had defied Voldemort three times, that's what the prophecy had said, and they had a son at the end of July, which fit as well. So they went into hiding and assigned a secret keeper to make them impossible to find.

"But the old friend from school they had trusted to keep them safe, instead betrayed them, and Voldemort came to where they were hiding, intent on killing their son." Harry paused for longer than it took for Siri to translate. It was harder telling it this way, as though it wasn't himself. It was easy now, through practice, to say, Voldemort killed my parents, but it was all so complicated and it so easily could have worked out differently.

Harry was seeing the scene clearly now as he spoke. "My fa- James Potter was downstairs when Voldemort came in, black hood pulled over his head so that he looked only out of the depths of it. But . . . James, despite being a . . . pretty good wizard, didn't manage to stop Voldemort." Harry stopped; he could imagine this confrontation too well, having been in that position himself. Had his father made a mistake? Had he been too surprised or panicked with a wife and young son to defend? Harry released the pent up breath he had been holding. He didn't know why his father had failed. Maybe he was just overwhelmed and not good enough. "Voldemort went upstairs where Lily Potter was left guarding their son. She pleaded with Voldemort." That I know, Harry thought and swallowed hard. "But Voldemort was hardly going to heed her. He killed her too and then turned on the boy. But in dying for him, Lily had created an old magic charm more powerful than anything Voldemort had, including the Killing Curse. So when he used it next on the boy, it bounced back at him and nearly killed him instead."

Per sat in silence after Siri's retelling. Harry didn't feel like telling any more; the rest of the story was too long. He hugged his knees even though he wasn't cold and stared at the tiny blue flames flicking occasionally above the red coals of the fire. The sudden silence turned out to be acceptable, since no one spoke.

- 888 -

"You are exceptionally quiet this afternoon," Candide observed over a steaming mug of butterbeer. The Three Broomsticks was quiet as well, the only movement coming from Madam Rosmerta wiping down the bar.

"Yes," Snape uttered, sounding not quite present.

"Worried about Harry?"

Snape didn't bother to reply to this, just continued to stare at the far ceiling.

"How long is he supposed to be gone?" she asked. When Snape shook his head to indicate he didn't know, she added, "The Prophet has been full of all sorts of theories. Rita Skeeter's last column said you refused to talk to her. Why don't you just set things straight?"

Snape laughed mirthlessly. "She does not truly wish to print the truth. It would be better if she made something up."

Candide appeared dubious but dropped the topic and moved to collect her things. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go out this weekend, but I expect the answer is no."

Quietly, Snape stated, "Harry always comes first."

Candide leaned forward over the table and said, "Harry isn't here to come first. That and he is eighteen." She shook herself and hitched her pocketbook over he shoulder. "Sorry, forget that. Of course he comes first," she conceded. She moved to stand but then held off. "You're making me feel sorry for you, Severus." His angled left brow and sharp disbelief made her confirm, "Yes. You're tormenting yourself."

The bitter wind made the window rattle. Snape said, "I should have been able to help him. He has already gone beyond me." Candide dropped her gaze and he said, "If you wish to do something, perhaps a distraction is in order."

She shook her head with a wry grin. "All right. I'll owl you then." As she stood, she said, "Who'd have known you were a sucker for sympathy?"

- 888 -

The next morning, Per pulled out a waist-high corkscrew and the three of them trouped off carrying a small tent to sit on the lake for the day and fish. Harry watched his host speak to the ice drill and it must have listened because the task of cutting a hole went quickly, and Harry didn't ask if he should use his wand instead. The task of fishing did not go quickly, and a quarter hour into it, Harry decided this had to be one of the most boring activities in the world. It was cold on top of mindless and Harry constantly tugged Snape's fur-lined cloak even more thoroughly around himself as he sat on a crate beside Siri. Even an extra inch of overlap of the cloak seemed to make a difference in his comfort.

Per fished not with a pole but with a large empty tin with a line tied around it. He could wrap and unwrap the line with ease though and soon a pile of stiff fish sat on a plastic sheet laid on the ice. "Tell me a story," Per said after an hour of silence. "O red winged one."

Harry, who had opened his mouth to dive into a story about Quidditch that he found he must have prepared without thinking, shut it again and tried to read what was behind that comment. He was forced to decide it was merely playful, because he couldn't sense anything else. "It was a beautiful day and Gryffindor had a Quidditch match against Slytherin," Harry began and decided from Per's expression of dismay upon translation, that he had gotten even. "Harry Potter was only a first-year, but he had been allowed on the team anyway as Seeker, which was a first in over a hundred years." Harry felt himself warming to this method of telling, especially given the rolling of Per's eyes when he heard what Harry had said.

Per baited his hook from a worm that had been staying warm in his mouth, and dropped the line into the icy water. Harry had even gotten used to that.

"Terence Higgs was the opposing Seeker for Slytherin and had at least played in a match before. Harry had practiced a lot but he had never played, but he had a very good broom that the teachers had bought him and he was small and light enough to be quick on it. That and he made a very small target for the Bludgers." Harry paused to huff into his mittens for warmth while Siri translated. "But well into the match, Harry's broom began to jump about, trying to toss him off. He was high off the pitch and had a long way to fall.

"Harry's two best friends were watching this through field glasses and noticed that Professor Snape appeared to be the one cursing Harry's broom. He was looking up intently and mouthing something constantly while the broom kicked around."

Per appeared to decide that this story was perhaps interesting after all, so much so that he let a fish tug his bait away by being half a second too late in jerking on the line. While Harry continued, he re-baited the hook with a fresh worm from his mouth.

"Harry's friend Hermione was one of the smartest students in school. Maybe the smartest. She hurried around to the other bleacher where the teachers sat and lit Professor Snape's robes on fire. Harry's broom calmed down immediately in the commotion and he caught the Snitch, thereby defeating Slytherin, Professor Snape's house. It was the first time Harry had won anything, so he was pretty happy."

Indeed, Harry re-felt that moment of primitive joy even this many years later. He sat enjoying it again, until Per said, "That isn't the end."

"Yes it is," Harry countered. "It's my story."

Silence ruled for a long while as fish after fish was pulled up out of the water after patient waiting in between. Per said something to Siri and she said, "Didn't you or your friends complain about Professor Snape?"

"Oh, yeah. We complained to our friend Hagrid, the gamekeeper. He told us we had to be mistaken. Then he accidentally confirmed that the Philosopher's Stone was being held at the school to protect it from being stolen. We decided that Voldemort wanted to use it to return to life and that Professor Snape was trying to steal it for him."

Per relayed through Siri: "Did you know he was a Death Eater?"

"No. We just didn't like him. Didn't trust him. In the end after finding my way to where the stone was hidden, I found another Professor, Quirrell, trying to steal the stone, and he told me he was the one cursing my broom and Professor Snape was countering him to save me."

Another long silence was finally broken by, "So, what happened?"

"Quirrell dissolved when he attacked me trying to get the stone. He was harboring Voldemort like some kind of parasite so he couldn't touch me. The charm from my mother was still on me."

Per again missed a fish. "So, how did you get the stone?"

"Ah, that's another story," Harry said tiredly, to his audience's dismay.

Per rolled up the line and hook, scooped up the plastic sheet with the fish and said, "Tomorrow we take a journey."

Harry stood when they did and, given the complaints of his muscles, thought his legs could use a little more rest, but he didn't argue.


Next: Chapter 8 -- The Journey

By the time Harry meandered his way beyond the worst of the metal barriers and stood at the cliff edge, he had attracted quite a following. Dark shadows with pin wheeling light inside them hovered above salivating Shetani which jostled and climbed over things that looked like thorny puffballs except with human mouths on the bottoms. The shadowy cloak turned to a bat shape and flitted around Harry's head. Many other slightly less aggressive things scrambled around behind the first line of creatures. The stench of them all resembled fermenting rancid earth and as their numbers increased, the air grew weighty and slow like being underwater.


Author Notes

Quidditch Schedule -- If there was a canon fixed order of games (I honestly never noticed), then McGonagall must have rearranged it when she got the chance ;-)

Lappland -- The Saami culture presented here is an amalgamation of 1970's setting and 1600's pre-missionary Shamanism. (Nearly every Shaman drum was burned, for example, and just a few remain in museums. Their owners may not have fared any better.) The culture is changing very rapidly, due to imported goods and techonology, tourism, land use rights issues, flooding of grazing areas to build hydroelectric dams, and now, and probably the clincher, arctic warming. (Warm is worse in the artic because the snow ices over and the reindeer can't dig for moss to graze on.) Do the Saami exist as written here in 1999? I'd imagine some still do since it is only 30 years since the publication of the books I read to write this part, but it is fast disappearing or reinventing itself for tourism, so a distorted snapshot is perhaps all you could ever capture unless you want to try to capture change itself, which I didn't attempt.

I finally put up a page of my own: darkirony(dot)com if you want links to all other stories.