1A/N: I still don't own Harry Potter, but it is one my wish list for my next birthday.
Thanks again to Dellacouer for her beta services!
Chapter 14 – Pirates' Run
7 July 1999
"Thank you, Mr. Teach. Here are your room keys. Please let the front desk know if you need anything. Have a pleasant stay."
Harry accepted the keys from the attractive young woman working at the hotel counter and thanked her. As he turned to leave, he noticed a small stand containing Wizarding brochures. Harry felt a small Muggle-repealing ward as he stepped next to the display and pulled out a few visitor guides.
The RV was parked in the St. Louis, Missouri area hotel parking lot in the late summer afternoon. The sun was setting over the hotel casting a large shadow across the large vehicle pulled into an open parking area consuming several spots. The man known as Edward Teach walked stiffly back towards his RV with a groan. Hours on the road took a toll in stiff muscles and a numb bum. Harry's comfort at driving the RV had increased with all the drive time, but he was not ready for simply how big the United States really was. The distance from London to Berlin, Germany is about 930 km (578 miles). By comparison, the distance from Washington DC to St. Louis was almost 1,150 km (714 mi) as the dragon flies.
Unfortunately, they hadn't taken the most direct route.
In order to throw off anyone following them, they moved north through Maryland and into Pennsylvania. To further build the evidence that the three were simply Muggle tourists, the three did take time to stop at certain landmarks and attractions. Their longest stop was in the town of Gettysburg.
Harry felt moved walking the battlefield at Gettysburg. The three-day battle had killed so many American soldiers. The clash of the Northern and Southern forces turned the tide of the war towards the North's favour, but the warrior in Harry realized the cost the soldiers paid here.
Like the war against Voldemort and the new fight with the phantom Dark Lord, every fighter who fell in the American Civil War was a citizen of the same country. It was easy to shrug off that fact without thinking about the true ramifications of that point. Every man killed, every building or business destroyed was something in their own country. It was like a family getting into a fight and destroying their own house. Standing atop Cemetery Ridge and walking through the Devil's Den where over 46,000 men were killed or wounded in three days, it saddened Harry to realize that none of them, magical or Muggle had learnt their lesson yet.
The battlefield was dotted with the occasional ghost from both sides of the conflict. Men in the uniforms of the Union and the Confederacy stood talking in pairs or wandering alone, their conflict long forgotten. None of them approached Harry, but instead seemed to nod at him in a type of recognition before drifting away.
Harry was still a bit shaken as he resumed his drive the next morning.
The drive to St. Louis continued without any sign of magical pursuit. The Queen Anne's Revenge had proceeded east for the last several days avoiding major highways and population centres when they could. Fleur and Michele made the best of things as they entertained themselves and Harry. The two witches surprised Harry by having very good voices when Fleur conjured a guitar and started to play.
St. Louis was approximately one-third of the way between Washington D.C. and their destination somewhere in the American Northwest. It was a calculated risk but Harry figured Fleur and Michele deserved a good night's rest in a real bed and access to real showers. Michele in particular was looking a bit worn from the travel. His great-granddaughter's system was still fighting the Lycanthropy but it still weakened her. Harry wanted her to have a chance to regain her strength before continuing on.
"I don't think I will ever complain about Portkeys again," Harry muttered as he started walking over to the RV. Harry felt himself cross a warning ward Fleur erected while Harry had gone to check in.
"We are all checked in," Harry announced as he stepped into the large camper. "If you are ready, we can go up to our rooms."
Fleur appeared instantly with a large bag over her shoulder. Michele was right behind her with a matching bag. Fleur snatched the room keys as she passed. "Merci beaucoup. You can bring the rest of the bags and lock up." Michele gave her great-grandfather a cheeky little smile as she followed the older Veela out of the RV.
Harry snickered as he watched the two enter the hotel. A small charm cast on a necklace each of them wore would alert him if they were in danger and provide their location, but watching them safely enter the building still felt right. With a shrug, Harry turned to grab the three bags Fleur considered 'essential' for her overnight stay at the hotel and the one each for he and Michele.
'Thank Merlin for Lightening spells,' Harry thought as he carried the bags out of the RV and followed along into the hotel.
--BD--
"Gramps?" Michele called as Harry exited his room's bathroom. "Can we go shopping, please?" This was asked with a sweet, innocent smile that all fathers recognized. "There is a Wizarding centre nearby according to this guide you picked up." She waved the brightly coloured pamphlet Harry found by the front desk.
"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," Harry explained. "We are trying to stay out of sight."
"Please, Gramps? I won't play anymore pranks for the rest of the trip!" She threw in the sad-eyed puppy dog look with the not-quite whine.
"No, Michele, we are not going shopping. End of discussion."
--BD--
"I can face down Dark Lords, corrupt politicians, and homicidal professors, but I can't hold out against a Second year Hufflepuff witch," Harry muttered as he pulled up in the hire car the hotel had provided him.
Against Harry's better judgement, the threesome was now sitting outside what appeared to be a rundown Muggle warehouse. A faded sign that hung down on one side proclaimed it to be Mississippi Meat Warehouse Number 7. Harry could feel the subtle Muggle-repealing wards and Notice-Me-Not charms as they approached the location noted in the guidebook.
Unlike the magical Alleys favoured in Europe, North American magicals took their cue from their Muggle counterparts. Hidden magical malls served as the centre of shopping and commerce.
"The entrance should be just past the sign," Fleur noted in an amused voice. Harry grimaced at the laughter he heard in her voice.
"Take your Polyjuice now," Harry said as they pulled up.
Michele pouted, "Why can't I be a teenager again?"
Fleur suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the younger witch. "Just be glad this one is the same size you normally are or all of the new clothes wouldn't fit you."
Michele perked up at that. "Gramps is getting me new clothes?! Yay!" She threw the pill down her throat and scampered out of the small car.
"Thanks a lot, Fleur," Harry grumbled.
Fleur smiled impishly at the wizard known as the Count. "Oh, please, as if you had any chance of not giving in to her. If she were not such an angel, she would be a really spoilt brat the way she has you wrapped around her little finger!"
Harry shrugged, not knowing what to say. Emotional discussions were never his strong point. He was saved by the object of Fleur's comment.
"Come on! What is taking so long?" the excited preteen asked in an impatient tone.
--BD--
Harry had to admit that the magical mall had something going for it. It lacked the charm of London's Diagon Alley or Berlin's restored Die Ruhe des Zauberers, but the faux-warehouse was brilliant in its own way. The entrance looked like a Muggle loading dock; complete with a nearby dumpster, empty pallets and some discarded truck tires. Once inside, a magical ceiling like in Hogwart's Great Hall covered the two layer shopping mall. It looked much like a high end Muggle mall except instead of DVDs, computers, Macys, and Nike; the magical mall had fashionable robes for wizards and witches, goblins, brooms, and potions ingredients.
Michele dragged Fleur into a shop catering to teenage witches named 'Sabrina's Closet' leaving Harry outside the shop watching the other shoppers pass by. It was a low probability of any Black Watch operatives wandering by, but it paid to be careful.
Forty-five minutes passed and playing the role of a bored father dragged to the mall was no longer an act. To avoid wondering exactly how much Fleaur and Michele were spending, Harry let his mind tackle the more manageable problems at hand, such as what they should do once they reached their destination. Harry's mind muddled on the advice Collins had given to 'don't go stomping around like a bunch of Muggle tourists or hunters'. Another fifteen minutes passed before Harry realized the answer was right in front of him. Literally.
Smethsyk's Flying Emporium stood almost directly across the hall from the clothing store Fleur and her young apprentice had disappeared into. Displays of racing brooms, magic carpets, and various Quodpot gear filled the front window. Not too surprisingly, the shop had mostly school age wizards looking at the merchandise.
'Could it be that easy?' Harry wondered to himself.
Casting a subtle ward over the entrance to the clothing store, Harry casually wandered into the broom store. Harry felt a pang of nostalgia seeing the boys drooling over the latest brooms and arguing their merits. It reminded him of going into Quality Quidditch Supplies with Ron during his Hogwarts years before the war buggered everything up.
After a couple of minutes of looking around, an older wizard wearing a coverall with the logo of the shop walked over to Harry. "May I help you, sir?"
Harry had been admiring the high-end brooms. A number of very nice brooms competed for space with the familiar Firebolt and Nimbus 2001. Harry pointed at the broom next to the Firebolt. "What kind of broom is that? I don't recognize it."
"Ah," the man smiled. "That is an Iveris Lightning II, a shade slower than a Firebolt, but even more manoeuvrable. It is optimized for Quodpot and has inertial dampening charms that reduce the strain on the flyer during high G turns."
Harry felt a smile cross his face. "I bet that takes some getting used to if your reflexes are not used to it."
The clerk laughed easily. "Not too hard. Most have a problem going back to normal broomsticks. They claim the ride is too rough."
Harry nodded his understanding. His Nimbus 2000 had been great, but he didn't think he could go back after having his Firebolt. "What about that one labelled a Quanta Blackbird?"
"Fastest broom in the world," the clerk commented as he turned and reached up to get the broom down. He turned back to Harry and asked, "You're from England, right?"
"Yes."
"That explains it. You won't see this in Europe. It's illegal to sell over there."
"Really?" Harry commented absently as he checked out the broom in the other man's hands. "I thought the Firebolt was the fastest."
"For sports it is," the man agreed. "This is a travelling broom. With such long distances here in the US, think of it as a private airplane. At higher altitudes, it can reach about .84 mach or 555 miles per hour. That's about the same as a Muggle 747 aircraft."
Harry's jaw dropped. "That's bloody impossible. You could never hold on! The wind shear would rip you right off."
"True," the clerk chuckled. "You activate a special charm similar to a Bubblehead Charm. It creates a bubble around the broom. It gives the rider breathable air at .7 atmospheres and creates a bubble of warm, still air around the broom. Carpets do the same thing but have a top speed of 80 miles an hour.
"Plus it has a Muggle Notice-Me Not charm to prevent passing airplanes from noticing you." The man snorted in amusement. "Half the UFO sightings in the US are from kids on brooms doing tricks at night. And unless you get stupidly close to one of the military radar installations or wear a suit of metal armour, you won't show up on radar as anything more than a ghost image."
Harry grinned at that. His recent 're-enactment' of the Endor speeder bike chase in London made that idea all too funny. "Why is it illegal in Europe?"
"Same reason I can't send carpets over there either," the clerk grunted. "Protecting the local market. 'Sides, they don't really need it over there. Everything is pretty settled and the Floo Network covers most of it. Ours is rather spotty depending on the size of the local magical population."
"And how much are they?"
"800 Galleons, sir."
Harry nodded. "Very nice. Too bad I am only here on holiday. I've always been rather rubbish at flying. Sure I couldn't handle anything like that. Thank you very much for your time." With a polite nod, Harry turned and made his way out of the shop.
The clerk muttered his goodbye as he turned to place the broom back into its holder. He'd been sure the odd stranger was a definite sale.
--BD--
Two hours later, the Teach family emerged from the magical mall with a number of shrunken bags stashed into pockets. After the witches emerged from their shopping, Harry led them off to a magical outdoor shop.
Harry told the store's clerk they were going camping in the Colorado Rockies and then heading to the Grand Canyon. He purchased a Wizarding tent and other provisions the clerk recommended for those locations. Harry was sure he bought too much stuff that would never be used, but it fit with the naive foreign tourist role he was playing.
The pair of Veela witches enjoyed their shopping excursion. Harry was thankful for shrinking and feather-weight charms when he was informed that he would be responsible for carrying everything back to the RV.
That seemed rather unfair to Harry.
--BD--
The magical mall was much less crowded later that night as a nondescript man in jeans and a tee shirt made his way down its hall. His walk seemed casual but a trained observer would have noted a definite sense of purpose to his walk.
It was only after passing Smethsyk's Flying Emporium twice that the man wandered into the store. The crowd of young teenage wizards that filled the store before were gone to be replaced by a few older teenagers off in a corner discussing Quodpot strategies. The same clerk from earlier in the day was still behind the counter.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Can a Quanta Blackbird safely carry a second passenger or is it one person only?"
The clerk smiled, no doubt sensing a sale. "The Blackbird can handle a load up to a combined weight of 700 pounds. Performance degrades after 300 pounds or so though. It is charmed for two seats and a third can be added for young children with additional restraining charms."
The nondescript man nodded. "Excellent, I'll..."
"You, clerk," an imperious voice interrupted. "Come here at once."
The clerk and Harry both turned to look at the source of the interruption. A pack of young wizards in casual but expensive looking clothes had entered the shop with an arrogant air that forcefully reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy and his cronies when they were the Inquisitional Squad. The young toughs consisted of four wizards and three witches, none of whom looked old enough to be out of school. Harry guessed Sixth or Seventh years; or whatever the Yanks called it.
"My broomstick requires servicing and I insist you deal with it at once!" The offending broomstick was dropped on the counter, almost hitting Harry with the bristled end.
"Maybe if you handled it right, it wouldn't need service in the first place."
It was only when the seven teenagers turned to scowl at Harry that he realized he'd spoken out loud. 'Damn it,' he thought. 'So much for keeping a low profile.'
"What did you say, twig?" the brown-haired ponce with the broom sneered. He took a step towards Harry in an attempt to look intimidating.
Harry assumed an innocent expression. "I was merely commenting that you obviously haven't cared for your broom properly from the rough patches on the handle and the mess the bristles are in."
The teenager's face flushed red as his friends snickered slightly at the innuendo they read into Harry's comments. Meanwhile, Harry was cursing himself mentally for allowing this Malfoy clone to provoke him.
Harry turned back to the shocked clerk and said, "I will take two of the Blackbirds, please."
Excitement knocked the clerk out of his shock. "Two?" At Harry's nod, the clerk scurried into the stockroom. Harry could almost see the man counting his commission.
"Who did you steal the money for that from, hedge-boy?" It was the ponce again. "You're not from around here. I know all the wizards of calibre and you're not from any of those families.
"Just passing through," Harry allowed.
"Hmm, he sounds British," one of the witches commented in a throaty voice. The girl had deep black, almost blue, hair and was dressed in a black sheer robe that reached to her mid thighs. The material of the robes was transparent enough to hint a great deal without actually showing anything. The overall effect would have been sexy if not for the 'psycho-Bellatrix' air she had going. She sauntered up to Harry in a seductive manner. Placing one hand on Harry's shoulder, she rubbed her body up against Harry. "Hmm, smells British too."
"Smells British?" one of the other American teen wizards asked with a snort.
"Yes, he smells like one of those weak, inbreed Purebloods," the witch purred as she slinked back behind Harry. She put her nose almost into Harry's ear and took a deep sniff. "Yes, just like one of those weak Purebloods," she almost sighed.
Harry seemed to ignore her as he focused on the young wizard in front of him; in his peripheral vision though he kept an eye on her.
"Probably so weak he can barely cast a Lumos," one of the cronies jeered.
"Too busy doing his sister," another provided to the amusement of the others.
"Krystal, get away from him," the gang's leader called the girl. "We wouldn't want you to catch any bugs."
"Oh, Derek, I never get to have any fun," the girl, Krystal, whined as she started to play with Harry's hair.
Harry was considering his options when the clerk returned with a pair of broom-sized boxes in his arms.
The clerk set the boxes onto the counter with a smile until he noticed the tension between Harry and the local teens. He looked hesitantly at the teens and then turned to Harry. "May I just take care of this gentleman while you look at your new brooms, sir?"
Harry nodded, grateful that the older wizard provided a distraction to the teen witches and wizards. He wasn't concerned with the teens per se, but this confrontation was drawing too much attention. He was just glad Fleur and Michele were safely back in the hotel.
Seeing Derek's attention was now focused on verbally abusing the clerk and demanding his broom be repaired by the next day, Krystal whispered in Harry's ear. "I suggest you get out of here quickly. Derek just got adopted by the Travis family. He wants to throw his weight around."
"Councillor Travis?" Harry asked as his stomach turned over. Of course, it had too be that Travis family. What else would it be in the life of Harry Potter?
Krystal hummed her agreement to Harry's question. "Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked.
"You're not up to his weight class, Pureblood, and I hate bullies." She kissed the back of Harry's neck and added, "There's no sport to it." With that she giggled and strutted her way back over to her friends and draped herself over Bill's shoulder.
'Why do I always attract the psycho witches?' Harry wondered idly as he kept an eye on the group while pretending to look at some of the other equipment on display.
Derek was finished with the clerk and turned to leave the shop when he turned called back over his shoulder, "You take care, Pureblood. Accidents can happen to you twigs." With that parting shot, he strode out of the shop his robe flaring behind him as his cronies followed with laughter.
"That was only a five on the Snape scale," Harry muttered in amusement. "Even Malfoy did it better by Third year."
The clerk approached Harry with a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir, for not taking offence to those young idiots. Young Derek used to be a good kid until he tested out as a rather powerful wizard. His parents were squibs and now that he is a Travis he is overcompensating. His new father is a major stockholder in this store so I have to put up with it."
Harry waved off the man's apologies. "I've dealt with worse." The clerk smiled and they turned back to business.
Ten minutes later Harry was leaving the shop with a pair of shrunken brooms in his pocket and a befuddled clerk left behind. The Confundus Charm would allow the clerk to remember the transaction occurred but blurred the details and his impressions of his customer.
Harry emerged from the magical mall into the night air and was walking to the hire car when his instincts screamed causing him to jump to his left. One of his wands dropped automatically into his hand as he whirled to face his attacker.
Or attackers as it turned out.
"Not bad for a twig," Derek sneered.
"I don't want trouble," Harry said in a firm tone. "Just let me leave and we'll all be happier."
"You might be happier but we're bored and you're gonna entertain us!" Derek answered with a smile. Harry remembered seeing that same smile on Dudley's face when his gang found a little kid to beat up.
Three of the sidekick wizards threw spells at Harry that he dodged casually. Harry recognized the spells as they were cast. Two of them were NEWT standard and the third was a border-line Dark curse that Hogwarts didn't teach. He would have been impressed by the first two if this was a demonstration in class. The third would have lost fifty points and a been a week detention.
"Nimble little twig, ain't ya?" Derek sneered. "Can't you even cast a shield charm?"
Harry pointed his wand at the group. "This is your last warning. Leave now."
"What are you going to do, Pureblood?" one of the cronies growled.
Harry recognized him from earlier. "Just a little light spell. Bombus lux!" The Flash Bang Charm created a sudden flare of light with a thunderous sonic boom. The sudden flare caught the unprepared American teens by surprise.
Cries of shock and anguish filled the air as the teens squeezed their eyes shut and covered their ears with their hands as their eyes were overwhelmed with the bright spot that still filled their vision and the boom caused pain in their ears. Harry almost felt bad for the teens but they pushed this confrontation.
"Accio wands," Harry cast. The cries increased in protest as the teens felt their wands leap away. Harry caught the wands easily than cast a minor healing charm that restored the would-be bullies vision.
"You bastard!" Derek yelled at Harry. He started to storm at Harry His advance came to an abrupt end as he noticed Harry's wand pointed directly at his heart.
In his best professorial tones, Harry commented, "Today's lesson is Basic Dueling 101. Don't be so taken with your most powerful spells that you forget what an opponent with a bit of cunning and wit can do with a common everyday charm. Here ends the lesson.
"I'll leave your wands just down the street. You can get them later."
The American teens looked at Harry in disbelief as he put their wands in his pocket. An odd look crossed the witch named Krystal's face.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Harry grinned, "Would you believe I'm just a guy on vacation?"
"You won't get away with this!" Derek hissed.
Harry grinned back, "Yes, and I'll rue the day too. But not today." Harry caught Krystal's shocked eyes and said, "You lot really shouldn't let your prejudices get ahead of you. Sopous!"
The Sleeping Gas Charm created a cloud of gas around the teens allowing only an instant of panic before they dropped to the ground asleep. Harry snickered as he levitated their sleeping forms into the nearby dumpster.
Harry stepped over to his car. True to his word, Harry drove a short distance down the street before stopping to put the wands up against a nearby building with a small ward to prevent anyone but the wands' owners from finding them. That done, Harry smiled as he drove off back to the hotel.
--BD--
10 July 1999
The RV travelled I-70 west to Kansas City and then north on I-29 towards Omaha, Nebraska. They passed through Missouri, Nebraska, Colorado, and Wyoming before crossing into their destination in Idaho. They drove around the clock switching between Harry and Fleur driving six hours a shift, only stopping for food and fuel.
When Harry returned to the hotel with his new brooms, he told Fleur and Michele about his run in with the young witches and wizards at the magical mall. While Michele thought it was fun, Fleur frowned at how poorly Harry handled the situation.
"The rude git just wouldn't let it go!" Harry defended. Harry related what Krystal whispered to him. "He was like a kid with a new wand, trying to cast any spell he could think of."
Fleur assumed a haughty expression. "Very well. I guess it just shows that the only thing more uncouth than an English wizard is an American one!" Unlike the Fleur from the first timeline, this Fleur made the comment with a teasing glint in her eye. Harry huffed in mock indignation but hit her with a wandless Tickling Charm as soon as she turned away from him.
--BD--
Harry felt something like relief as the RV approached Boise. Driving across the United States was a very long, but very interesting experience. So much of the country was still undeveloped and empty. They had driven across all kinds of terrain from plains to mountains. The oddest sight was one not long after entering Idaho. They passed a llama ranch of all things. But what made it really memorable was the rancher's wife chasing him with a large frying pan while wearing a leather bustier, leather boots with six inch stiletto heels and a studded miniskirt. Fleur was impressed by the woman's ability to move so quickly across grass in those heels.
It was Fleur's casual remark a minute later that really caused Harry problems.
Her French accent softly came out as she absently commented, "I vonder if I should vear something like that so I can fit in better vith these Muggles." Harry couldn't see her, but he heard Michele giggle from somewhere behind him.
--BD--
They parked the RV in a lot not far from the local airport just after sunset. The lot provided off-site parking for the airport and included a shuttle bus to the terminals. Harry told the attendants that they were on holiday but a family matter came up and they had to fly out to take care of it. Harry pre-paid for a week in the parking lot.
The small family loaded onto the shuttle bus with only three small carry-on sized bags. The bus took them to the small international terminal of the airport. Harry purchased three tickets to Paris via a stopover in Chicago. A small Confundus Charm caused the woman at the ticket counter to trick the system into showing the three boarded the flight on-time and left with the plane.
Harry led them two witches to a small, unoccupied niche that was out of sight. He cast Notice-Me Not and Dissillusionment Charms on all each. Fleur transfigured their bags into rucksacks. The spell work done, Harry led them back out of the airport terminal. Within five minutes they were mounted on their brooms and leaving Boise behind in the growing darkness.
--BD--
The area north of Boise was mountainous with only a spars covering of trees. Michele rode behind Harry as they flew several thousand feet over the mountain ridges below. Although the brooms were moving at almost five hundred miles an hour, the broom's charms kept the wind down to a pleasant breeze with a very comfortable air temperature around them. And unlike a Muggle aircraft, the brooms were silent in the night sky.
After flying for forty minutes, the two brooms were over 300 miles north of Boise. The sparse tree growth had given into thickly forested, rugged lands. Even from this height, Harry could only see distant lights. Below him the land was pitch black. If not for a charm allowing Harry and Fleur to see in low light conditions, they would have been flying completely blind. Casting a quick navigation charm, Harry reckoned that they were over Cour D'Alene National Forest.
Harry turned and gestured to Fleur to follow them down. After she nodded her confirmation, he turned his head to speak over his shoulder.
"Hold on Michele. We're going to land now."
Michele yawned against Harry's back. "Good, I'm falling asleep back here. I'm so bored I'd even do homework."
Harry chuckled as he rolled the broom into a dive. Michele yelled her encouragement as Fleur took a more ... relaxed decent into the forest below.
Pulling out of the dive, Harry flew just above treetop level looking for an appropriate clearing to set up camp. Fleur joined them just as Harry found a clearing on a small rise with a wide, but shallow stream below the rise.
The two brooms landed in the field and the three riders climbed off. Leaving the brooms deactivated the charms, revealing that even in the height of summer the mountain nights were cool.
"Set up the tent so Michele can get inside and stay warm," Fleur directed Harry. "This cold air is not good for her."
"I'm fine, Fleur," Michele insisted in a tired voice. "I'm just sleepy."
"You are still fighting the infection," Fleur insisted. "The harder you make it for your body to fight the less time we have to find a cure."
Fleur drew her wand and transfigured several nearby rocks into a neat little fire pit. With smooth efficiency, Fleur summoned a nearby log. A single spell split and stacked the wood in spot convenient to the fire pit. Several pieces of wood floated into the pit. "Incendio!"
When she was finished, she saw Harry had the tent up. Harry and Michele were watching her with shocked expressions at her creation of the camp fire.
"What is wrong?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. "I'm impressed. That's all."
Fleur smiled teasingly. "What? Veela are supposed to live in great castles and high society? Prim and proper princesses?"
"I am," Michele giggled back.
Fleur smiled back as she acknowledged the younger part-Veela's comment. "Some of us are," Fleur admitted. "Veela are descended from mountain nymphs. My grandmother insisted we grow up with some of the traditional Veela values. I spent many summers in their villages and camping in the Alps."
Harry nodded at the admission. He would have never expected the Fleur he originally knew to have experience camping. Could that have been an effect of a ripple in the timeline?
Fleur turned to Michele and imperiously ordered her into the tent. Michele's grumbled, "Are all Healers dictators at heart?" as she passed her great-grandfather caused Harry to chuckle.
"I've always thought so," Harry agreed.
Fleur turned on Harry with a mock scowl. "Don't encourage her! Or I will see that you need a physical too, Monsieur Potter!"
Before Harry could come back, Michele spoke up. "Oh please. You've wanted to give Gramps a physical every since that dinner in Switzerland. Gabrielle noticed it that night too."
Harry's jaw dropped as Fleur whirled on Michele in surprise. "You little witch!" Fleur yelled as the young girl ran laughing into the tent.
Harry tried to assume a neutral expression but Fleur wasn't buying it. "Not one word," the French Healer growled. She stalked towards the tent opening.
"And don't get any ideas!" she called back.
After she was gone, Harry erected wards around the camp anchored on the largest rock in the fire pit. The wards included Muggle Repealing, Proximity and Dark Magic Detectors. It was enough for a camp site. Stronger wards would take too much effort for a temporary shelter.
His task done, Harry casual transfigured a rock into a comfortable chair near the fire. Sitting by the fire and enjoying the mountain air sounded like a much better idea than going into the tent and possibly getting caught in the fight between Fleur and Michele.
--BD--
11 July 1999
After two days in the woods, Harry was starting to get anxious. Although there were recent reports of 'Big Foot' sightings in this area, they had seen no sign of the creatures. The closest they had come was when a bear wandered out of the woods to drink at the stream below. Harry kept his wand ready while Michele squealed about how cute the animal was.
Fleur and Michele settled into a comfortable routine of reading in the tent and discussing Michele's assignments. For all of Fleur's earlier comments, she seemed content to stay in the tent and keeping her patient company.
Michele's teasing of Fleur created some awkwardness between the two adults. Fleur waved Harry off when he mentioned it the next morning.
"Fleur, I want to apologize for what Michele said last night. She had no call to ..."
"It is okay, 'Arry," Fleur interrupted quickly. "She is only a little girl being silly. Don't think about it too much."
Harry accepted her assurances, but after fighting Voldemort and then Grindelwald, Harry was adept at reading body language. Fleur was hiding something. Harry was content to let it lay for now.
Although it had been more than two years subjectively for Harry since losing Sarah, Harry didn't think he was ready to think about romance yet. It wasn't an issue with Fleur. Harry found he enjoyed her company much more now than in the last timeline. It could be the change was on his part, but since getting caught up in the Ministry's war on all things Potter, the witch had held up nicely.
The simple fact was, losing his wife and then in a single night his two sons, a grandson, and two son-in-laws reminded Harry all too well of the circumstances that led him to travel back to the 1930's to start with. Getting involved with anyone when the remainder of his family was still in danger seemed selfish and fool-hardy to Harry.
The camp wards gave a sudden twitch as something intelligent crossed the proximity border. Harry leapt to his feet as his wand dropped into his hand.
"Lower your wand, Harry Potter. You won't need it with us."
The voice was behind him! Harry turned quickly in an attempt to spot the speaker. How had they moved behind him?! The ward intrusion was in the other direction.
"I said you don't need your wand, Harry Potter. We come in peace."
From behind a large tree the speaker suddenly appeared. Harry almost yelled in shock.
"Bloody hell! You're as big as Hagrid!" And he was. The Sasquatch was about eleven feet tall with an incredibly muscled upper body and arms. His arms were oddly long, reaching almost down to his knees. The being's entire body was covered in thick, silky hair except for his face. His face looked similar to an ape with the leathery brown skin.
The Sasquatch moved away from the tree that looked entirely too small to conceal his form. "Ah yes, I have heard of Rubeus Hagrid. A friend tells me he possesses a truly gentle soul."
Surprise was making it hard to think. "How did you get over there? You crossed the ward over there."
"We have been watching you for some time, Harry Potter." The Sasquatch stopped twenty feet from Harry. For a creature that size, it was only two strides from stepping on the wizard with its huge feet.
"We?"
"My tribe." The Sasquatch gestured around him with one great, hairy arm. Harry glanced around and noticed three more Sasquatches standing just inside the tree line on either side.
Harry slowly placed his wand into its holster and made an elaborate show that he was unarmed. "You know who I am and why we are here?"
"We do, Harry Potter. Our mutual friend spoke for you. If not for his backing, we would not have approached you. We would have simply taken the young one to be healed."
Setting the implications of that aside, as politely as he could Harry asked, "Since you know my name, may I ask yours?"
The huge being seemed to smile and gestured at his own chest. "You may call me Joshua."
"It is nice to meet you, Joshua. May I ask who is this mutual friend?"
A sudden flash of fire burst directly between Harry and his visitor. Harry started to shield his eyes when a familiar cry stopped him.
"Fawkes?!"
The phoenix let out an excited chirp as it landed on Harry's shoulder. Fawkes let out a laughing trill as he hopped about on his new perch.
"Is this where you went after Albus died?" a stunned Harry Potter asked.
"Gramps?" Michele called from the tent. "I thought I heard... FAWKES!" Fawkes let out another chirp of welcome to the youngest Potter. Then Michele noticed the other visitor standing in front of Harry, her face paling in shock. "Gramps?"
"Michele, this is Joshua. Come say hello."
Michele hesitantly walked over to stand at Harry's side where she reached up to pet Fawkes. "Hello Joshua."
Joshua bowed slightly from his waist. "Greetings, cousin."
"Cousin?" Harry and Michele asked at the same time.
Joshua lowered himself to his knees so he was closer to eye level with the young witch. A sad, gentle expression crossed his face. "Your mother and mine shared grandparents."
"But I'm not like you!" Michele protested. "Wouldn't I be big and hairy too? Or is that just the boy Sasquatches? 'Cause Gramps is hairy too."
A low rumbling chuckle rumbled in Joshua's chest as the other Sasquatches let out odd backs of what Harry hoped was laughter.
"Indeed cousin. Our females are hairy too," Joshua assured her. "It is a long story on how we came to include some half-humans in our people." At his gesture, Harry and Michele sat down in chairs next to the fire. Joshua sat down on the ground across the fire but still towered over them.
Joshua paused a moment and then started to speak. "A long time ago, before the coming of colonists, one of the tribe's young bucks named Anned was roaming along the eastern coast. He came upon a party of Norsemen and their ship. In his curiosity, the young buck was not careful and was captured by the Norsemen.
"For some reason, they decided to take him back with them as a prize. After stops in Iceland and Greenland, their ship was blown off course to Ireland. Our ancestor took the opportunity to escape. Anned fled into the countryside and lived by taking what he could for food while trying to find a way home. After six months though, he was starting to give up hope.
"One morning, Anned came across a young woman being attacked by several bandits. As he watched, she fought them off with magic, but not before she was injured. Anned took pity on her and carried her off to his camp. She was the first magical human he had found and he hoped she could help him get home.
"When she awoke from her wounds, she was scared of Anned's size and strength. Soon she came to realize he was gentle and not a danger. By the time she was healthy they were friends."
"Joshua, when was this?" Harry asked when the Sasquatch paused for a moment.
"It was 996 as the humans of your land count the years," Joshua answered.
"What happened next?" Fleur asked. The older witch had emerged from the tent during Joshua's story and had been listening silently. She came to stand behind Harry's chair.
"The witch knew of a potion that allowed humans to take on others' forms, forest sister. She created a version that allowed Anned to take a human's form. In that form, they travelled together to find Anned a way home.
"They spent two years together when something new happened. They fell in love. They knew their love was doomed but it happened anyway. In a twist of magic, the witch became pregnant by Anned when he was in human form. When the child was born it was obviously not human. As the child could not take the potion and would be a target of fear from other humans, they decided Anned would have to take the child and come home.
"They stole a ship and the witch cast every charm she could to ensure her love and child would arrive home safely. They never saw one another again."
"What was the witch's name?" Michele asked.
"Helga Hufflepuff."
Harry went pale as he considered the implications of that statement. The Potter line contained the bloodlines of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The adoption of Tom brought the Slytherin bloodline into the family. And now Michele brought in the line of Hufflepuff. "The Founders House," Harry murmured remembering the prophecy.
Unaware of Harry's shock, Joshua continued his story. "The child, named Martin for his human grandfather, grew and married a female of the Sasquatch, but their son felt his human side pull and mated with a human woman native to these lands as did his son. For two generations after that, the line of Anned mated Sasquatch females. Then your mother met your father. Until your mother had you, all of the children were born favouring their Sasquatch heritage in appearance. It may have been because your mother, Enka, was the first of our females to mate with a human male or it may have been your father's Veela heritage. But your mother knew you had to go back to your father's people. And that brings us to today when you return."
"My mother is here?"
A sad expression settled on Joshua's face. "Alas, she has passed on to the Great Forest. Cubs of the tribe became trapped in a flood. Enka used her human magic to reach them and send them to safety. Before she could get back to safety, a tree collapsed hitting her and knocking her into the flood waters. We found her body the next day. We honour her memory as a True One of the Light." Joshua pointed at a younger Sasquatch standing outside the camp. " X'tel there is one of the cubs she saved that day."
"She's dead too?" Michele cried wrapping her arms around Harry's waist. Harry knelt down to hug his granddaughter. He knew her greatest wish was to find her mum but now she knew she was truly an orphan.
The Sasquatch respectfully silent as Michele cried out her pain and anger on Harry's shoulder. Harry could understand how she felt. While Michele still had family, there was something about losing your parents, or even the dream of finding them again, that was very painful to a child.
'At least her way of dealing with it is healthier then mine,' Harry thought as he held the crying girl. 'I would have been sullen and moody for weeks. But I would have been drier!'
Fawkes let out a squawk and smacked Harry in the back of his head with a wing. Then the magical bird started to sing quietly in his beautiful voice. Michele soon stopped crying and sat holding onto Harry while listening to Fawkes's song.
"Thanks, Fawkes," Michele said a couple of minutes later while wiping the tears from her face and reaching up to Harry's shoulder to rub the fire bird.
"Yah, thanks Fawkes. But what was the smack for?" Fawkes ignored Harry's question to lean into Michele's scratches.
The mood was broken by an odd hoot that came from somewhere in the distance. Harry noticed a sudden tenseness in Joshua's posture. An expression that seemed disapproving appeared on his giant face.
"Problem?"
"Dark Wizards have entered the forest. They are flying in a search. They will not be here soon as the forest is large and covers a vast area. But we must take Michele to our village soon or the way will be closed to us."
"We can breakdown the tent and be ready to leave in five minutes," Harry informed him.
An expression Harry would have called embarrassed crossed Joshua's face.
"What is it?"
"Our little cousin and the forest sister are welcome to enter our lands, but you may not, Harry Potter."
"Why not?" Michele yelled in a shocked voice.
"Our lands are a haven for those pure to the Light. Phoenixes, unicorns, and other Light creatures live there in peace. Indeed, phoenixes and unicorns refuse to do violence for any reason. The magic of our wards will not allow you to cross, Harry Potter.
Harry thought of Fawkes attacking the basilisk and blinding it. He opened his mouth to say it when Fawkes smacked him in the head with a wing again, harder. He turned to glare at the bird and received a matching glare from the immortal avian.
Fawkes look clearly said, "Keep your big mouth shut!"
With a final grimace at Fawkes, Harry turned back to Joshua. "Is it because I am a human?"
The Sasquatch shook his head in negation. "You serve the Light, Harry Potter. We know this. The one you call Fawkes speaks highly of you. It is because you have killed other sentient creatures when it was not required."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry scowled.
"But I've killed too!" Michele protested in a tiny voice.
"Your aura shows that you killed to save yourself in a situation where the only other option was to die, little one," the Sasquatch explained to Michele. "Even that is questionable by many of our people." Turning to Harry, the disapproving expression appeared again. Joshua explained. "You have placed yourself squarely between the Dark and those you must protect. That is good, but you have taken lives after they were no longer a threat to you. Your willingness to resort to violence stains your aura. Even now you fight your instincts to curse me for my words."
Harry couldn't argue that he was not fighting to hold in his temper.
"I am not saying you were wrong, Harry Potter. Your actions may have saved many lives in the long run, but that does not change the fact you have killed when there were other options."
Harry took a deep breath and focused on what was important here. "But you can help Michele?"
Joshua nodded, "We can leave now. Do you have another such dwelling?" The Sasquatch pointed at the tent. 'We do not live in such things and it may be more comfortable if they have one too."
"They can take that one," Harry replied. "I won't need it."
"No, Gramps!" Michele protested just before Fleur added her voice. "We are not going to leave you!"
"Stop," Harry said in a stern voice. "We don't have time for this. Michele, this may be the only way for you to be cured. Fleur, you are her Healer. Watch over her for me."
Harry forced a grin onto his face. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I've been thrown out of better places than this before." To Joshua, he asked, "How long will this take?"
"At least one human week. Maybe more."
"Okay. I will lead our friends away. I'll come back in a week and every other day at noon after that day."
Joshua nodded agreement. "That is acceptable."
In a couple of minutes the tent was down and packed away. The magical fire was extinguished and the ashes scattered to make the site look unused.
"Are you sure you won't need more food or clothes," Fleur asked Harry in a concerned voice once they were ready to leave.
"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Don't worry about me."
After a few more goodbyes and a few tears from Fleur and Michele, Joshua led the two witches into the forest with the other three Sasquatches trailing behind.
Harry watched until they disappeared into the trees. Fawkes was perched on top of the now cold fire pit watching Harry.
"Go with them, Fawkes?" Harry requested. "Make sure they are safe."
Fawkes replied with a trill that was part question and part reassurance.
"Really," Harry assured the phoenix. "Go with them."
With a final chirp, Fawkes took flight. He circled around the camp, coming in low so he brushed the top of Harry's head before disappearing into a flash of fire.
"Cheeky bird."
There was a sudden blurring and where a man stood now sat a large wolf. The wolf let out a long howl before turning and disappearing alone into the trees in the opposite direction.
A/N: This chapter included a nod to Rorschach's Blot and BobMin, two (or three) of my favourite authors.
I realized after chapter 13 I didn't provide a link to my Yahoo group. It is now posted at the bottom of my profile page.