Harry rolled the unfamiliar coin in his hand, running his finger alternatively over the dragon emblem and the face of the emperor, noting curiously the tails and head. No denominations of worth or any excess writing were emblazoned upon the coin, not like in any money he had handled before.
It wasn't altogether too different from wizarding money, something he was quite familiar with. Perhaps even more so than muggle money. It, and the thirty-one other coins just like it now in his and Luna's pockets were the first of their kind that they had earned so far. It felt different from any other money he had possessed before. Not physically per se, but rather in something less tangible. It felt heavier—or rather, weightier, if the perceived difference made any sense—and he felt much more mindful of each coin clinking on his person now. Before the loss of one or two galleons would have been an annoyance, but nothing he would have minded after a few hours.
But now, he knew, that he had to make every septim count.
Because it wasn't as if they could simply go out and catch another mudcrab for another thirty or so coins. It was just like chores back at the Dursleys; you could only paint the fence once and mow the lawn so many times. After that, they were done with no more money to be made. Of course, he hadn't ever been paid for that. But he understood that principle here and now.
Frida had immediately set to work on the mudcrab once she had gotten her hands on it, cracking its mid-section open and stringing it up to drain its blood into a large vat, breaking off its many legs to set them cooking in a pot and taking out the butter and salt as he and Luna looked on. It was the first time he had eaten crab of any kind and the buttered flesh he had scooped out from the hollow legs and pincers had been delicious, even ignoring how long it had been since their last meal. But immediately after the meal, he had hurried on to leave as the aged alchemist took out a hammer and began cracking open and crushing the crab's chitin with entirely too much gusto, estimating that this would tide her over for weeks to come.
The snap and pop of the chitin had made him slightly nauseous, encouraging him to bid farewell at once, reminding a little bit too much of Blast-Ended Skrewts and Acromantula.
Simply put, there were only so many mudcrabs Frida could buy from them. Not only in how much work she could accomplish as he had realized, watching her struggle to process the hard shell, but in how much money she had on hand that she reasonably could spend on ingredients. She too only had so many people willing to buy her finished potions. It was like they all formed a chain, where the smallest link decided for all the larger ones. The smallest—or rather, poorest—link being the many miners who needed stamina restoratives in their work, but scarcely had the money for food and shelter. Markedly different from how he had always perceived spending his money; his seemingly endless vaults always met with prompt and unfailing service.
The difference magic makes, he supposed.
"She wasn't a witch," Luna suddenly said, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Frida makes potions, but she isn't a witch. It's quite curious."
Harry frowned at her words, still not quite following her train of thought. He was already sullenly half-expecting Hermione to begin lecturing him about why that was curious, until he realized that Hermione wasn't here.
Not noticing Harry's change of mood, Luna continued walking.
Shaking his head he decided not to dwell on his confusion. Instead, he asked, "Why is that curious?"
Luna stopped, turning to look at him with a surprised expression so great that her eyebrows seemed to vanish beneath her blonde bang. "You mean you haven't heard, Harry?"
"Erm... No?"
She walked up to him, lowering her voice as if she was worried someone would overhear them on the empty road. "It's all a part of the Rotfang Conspiracy."
"...The one with the Aurors, and the uh, gums?" Already regretting having asked.
Nevertheless, she beamed at him, nodding vigorously.
"Yes! Daddy thinks that it's a plot to—among other, many other, things—to ensure that muggles and squibs can't brew potions. That way, only witches and wizards can, allowing the ministry to tighten its grip on everyone!"
Harry ignored most of what Luna had just said, homing in on what he realized Luna had been pointing out all along. "Oh, right..." Muggles and squibs couldn't brew potions. "But, she said she was an alchemist," he pointed out with a frown, "and I didn't recognize anything in her shop. I mean, she had a cauldron but that only had stew in it."
It was Luna's turn to be brought up short, her protuberant silvery eyes wide for a moment.
He shook his head, deciding to ignore all of that for a moment. "It's a different world anyhow, Luna. We shouldn't be assuming things."
It seemed obvious now that he had said it, even as he realized he had been failing to heed his own warning. Shaking his head he focused back on the matter of money. He knew he had some now, but he didn't quite know what it would buy them. Wondering for a moment whether there existed a spell for finding the exchange rate of currencies, he felt another pang of longing for Hermione's encyclopedic reliability.
"Hey there!"
The sound of shouting up ahead made them both look and they saw Rustleif, the smith, waving at them.
Walking up to him, they could see that the blazing forge and the hours of work had made him work up quite a sweat. But he greeted them again with obvious cheer nonetheless.
"Did it work out? With Frida, I mean?"
Harry nodded, a slight smile on his face. "We sold her some ingredients, so we now have a bit of money."
"That's great. Listen, one of the merchants in dock sent a sailor to buy some nails not too long ago. They're here for the iron shipments and will be here until tomorrow morning at least, and I asked them about whether they would be interested in buying fancy clothes." Rustleif set down his hammer and the curved head of a pick-axe, reaching for a jug and taking a long drink before he continued. "And they said there might be someone interested there. You might want to go and talk to them about it."
"That's great!" Harry exclaimed, grinning now as he turned to Luna.
"...Yes," she said with a subdued nod.
Rustleif laughed, quite pleased to be able to help them. Pointing to the ships, he motioned for one in particular. "It's the ship docked right over there, ask for the captain and see what he has to say."
"Alright. Thank you, sir."
"Haha, don't mention it."
Harry almost ran off right then and there, but halted for just a moment as he remembered something. "Ah, sir. May I ask you a question?"
The smith blinked, nodding immediately. "Sure, go ahead."
"Do you know how much a night at the Windpeak Inn costs?" Harry asked. Given that they didn't have any place to stay, he would have to base their expenses on that.
"A night?" Rustleif looked curious. "Ah, well Thoring rents out rooms for ten septims a day, as I recall. Meals not included. Don't know the prices of those—Seren doesn't like it when I eat anyone else's cooking hahah—but I can tell you how much the mead costs, if you want?"
Shaking his head at the offer, Harry thanked him once more before he left. Luna followed him quietly, two steps behind him as he was deep in thought. He hadn't actually seen the rooms at the Inn yet, but he was fairly certain they would need two.
He glanced at Luna surreptitiously, only to immediately look straight ahead as she serenely met his gaze.
Definitely two rooms.
Luckily this morning hadn't been awkward since he had woken up before her, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable through repeat performances. That left them only with 10 septims for dinner tonight.
And they still needed new clothes, even if they didn't manage to sell what they were wearing. They were getting strange looks wherever they went and sooner or later it would become a problem. He had seen enough witches and wizards stumbling around in the muggle world to know how much standing out could be a problem.
But again that brought them back to the fine point: they needed money.
"No."
"What do you mean, no?" Harry asked confusion and irritation warring for supremacy in his voice.
The merchant captain sneered, looking him from head to toe again as he did so. "Never seen cloth of that make or cut before. Looks neither warm nor protective for that matter. I doubt finding a buyer for it would be worth the time. So, no. I've no interest in your apparel."
Harry scowled, trying to figure out how to tell this git that his dress robes had been worth a good galleon and had several useful charms for maintaining their quality. But in his excited state, he found himself unable to think of how to say such a thing without revealing his magical background.
But they needed the money.
His robes were worth whatever this man could pay, even if he didn't agree... So could he confound the merchant to understand that? Suppressing that idea with the irritation that had spawned it, Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, feeling his irritation only grow at the slightly-greasier-than-usual feel of it and the tangled knots at the ends catching his fingers.
He hadn't had a chance to wash up properly in days.
The merchant said nothing, eyeing him with decidedly bored eyes as if he had nothing better to do than to lounge about by the docks, even though mere moments earlier the man had been adamant about not having any time to waste on them.
"Then, what about this dress?" Luna finally queried quietly, having remained silently behind him until now, performing a small spinning curtsy that made the hem of her dress flutter about. Holding a hand up with her fingers slowly rubbing together a folder section of the cloth at her waist, showing how fine and shining the material was.
The man's eyes glimmered and he shot back an immediate answer. "One hundred drakes."
It had been quick. Much too quick. As if he had been thinking about that the whole time despite not bringing it up at all before.
Harry realized that he had been waiting for just that, not wanting to appear too interested in her dress and even keeping his eyes solely focused on him until they brought it up. A bargaining tactic.
Luna sighed, before nodding and looking up. She spoke calmly, "Very—"
"No deal," Harry interrupted Luna quickly, shooting back a glance.
She seemed slightly surprised, gazing at him with wide eyes that reminded him once again of just how much her eyes seemed to take in the world and reflect it back. "But Harry," she began again, frowning.
But he turned to look at the merchant captain, seeing just a flicker of consternation and irritation in the man's sky-blue eyes before they became as smooth and cold as marbles again.
Harry felt a rush of vicious pleasure at that, realizing that they had almost been had if not for his quick thinking and gut instinct. He had recognized something in the man; the same greed that infused his fat muggle cousin whenever they sat down to eat, or whenever Vernon invited someone over for a business dinner for Grunnings.
"You've never seen anything like it and you'll never see another one anywhere near its like," he explained adopting a decidedly smug tone. "500 septims."
The captain grimaced.
"For that kind of money, I could visit a whitesmith for a dress made out of actual silver."
Internally Harry couldn't help but hesitate, turning back to look at Luna again. She eyed him serenely, nodding slightly as their eyes met. Jutting his jaw a little bit forward, he reached out for any argument he could think of. What did he say to that? Five hundred did sound like a lot of money.
Would he pay that much for it, were their roles reversed?
Luna wasn't forthcoming with any help either, her intense eyes distinctly avoiding looking at the merchant captain. But looking at her immediately made him think of something; a quip that he was sure he could have heard her say, the kind of flippant, on-the-nose comment that would leave everyone else flabbergasted.
"And who would wear a dress that heavy?" He said, affecting the innocent inquisitiveness that he had come to associate with Luna's more poignant comments, almost as if not speaking himself but allowing her to speak through him for a moment. Then, he shook his head, his own self reasserting itself in support of the comment made. "No, what you want is this. The first rich young spoiled lady who sees it - who can touch this fabric and realize how light and comfortable it is, will pay you back twice over for what you pay us."
He put on his most confident grin, leaning back on his heels and letting the merchant stew on his words.
Finally, after a quiet grumble under his breath, the man spoke. "Fine, 200 septims."
"400, and that's final," Harry replied immediately.
After another few seconds of grumbling, the merchant captain finally agreed.
Of course, that was when Harry remembered that Luna didn't have anything else to wear. And worse yet, he could hear the sound of rustling clothes behind him. His eyes bulged as the man in front of him raised an eyebrow, suddenly reminding Harry very much of Snape.
Hesitantly, he turned around. And blinked.
Luna had wrapped his over-robe around herself, closing it at the front like a bathrobe as she got out of her dress right then and there, apparently not minding the cold or glances very much. She looked up and their eyes met. He hastily turned around, offering the stony-faced captain a smile to hide his own confusion and embarrassment.
He exchanged another set of glances with the captain.
Somehow he now felt like the bad guy here.
"I'll... just go and fetch the coin, then..."
Dress and a large bag of clinking coins exchanged hands and they left quickly, accompanied by the curious gazes of dozens who had watched the exchange happen. Noticing several grins around him, Harry glowered at them which only seemed to set them laughing. Wanting to make sure she was alright, he turned around to look at Luna.
Only to realize that now only wearing his over robe around herself, it left her bare legs starkly visible beneath its dark hem, giving tantalizing flashes of inner thigh with every step she took.
He flushed, feeling confused and turning away hotly.
As they left the docks, Harry couldn't help himself as he turned to Luna who was following him, still as serene as ever. "Sorry Luna, I shouldn't have..." He trailed off, his eyes catching glimpses of bare skin and he had to look away again. "I didn't think this through very well, did I? Now you don't have any clothes, and, and..."
"It's alright. I'm very good at transfiguring clothes, you know."
He blinked and turned to look at her. "Oh. Oh." His mind went back to the end of last year, how she had told him that she tended to lose her things in Hogwarts and he tried not to think about it too hard. "Still, I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new dress when we get back to make it up to you."
"Oh, that's quite alright, Harry." Luna shook her head, her eyes turning slightly downcast. "That was my mother's dress, it can't be replaced."
"...Oh."
Suddenly he very much felt like dirt, the clinking sound of coins weighing much more heavily on his belt.
"Hello again, sir."
Thoring looked up, nodding at Harry once before going back to washing the pile of utensils as he had been before. Feeling slightly awkward, Harry looked at Luna before renewing his conviction.
The least he could do was get Luna the best bed in the house. "Sir, we'd like to rent rooms."
Should he also pay for the previous night?
"Rooms are 10 gold a night," Thoring explained tiredly. "But we're full right now. Come back later, after the hunters have left and we should have a few rooms open by afternoon."
"Oh, err... Alright then," Harry mumbled, as he shuffled in place. What did he do now, then?
"Do you have anything to drink? Something warm, perhaps?" Luna asked cheerfully, once again striking Harry as peculiar. Almost put-upon.
"Wine or mead?"
"Do you have any mulled wine?" she asked, her voice hitching with slight excitement.
"Mulled? No, can't say I do..." Thoring shook his head as he eyed Luna's tantalizingly incomplete attire with something akin to wonder and confusion for a moment.
"That's a pity. Its sweetness and warmth are quite nice when watching the snowfall."
"Hmm. We do have a bottle or two of some sweet spiced wine."
Luna nodded. "Then a bottle of that would be nice. Oh, and two mugs - and a kettle please."
"That'll be 12 septims."
Harry winced at the price, but looking at Luna's expectant smile he couldn't very well refuse now.
They sat quietly by the firepit, letting the black-bottomed kettle hang over the coals and warm up the wine within. Somehow the dancing flames and the glowing core of heat within entranced him completely as he stared at it. The radiating heat at times growing unbearable on his face despite his distance to the fire, forcing him to look away, only to return to staring at the flames mere moments later again.
The day wasn't even half over, yet he felt completely beat already. Perhaps his poor rest the night prior had something to do with it.
Suddenly, or so it seemed to him anyhow as he was snapped out of his mood, a mug full of steaming hot wine was handed to him. He looked up at Luna as he accepted it, mumbling a quiet thanks. The deep burgundy of the wine smelled unfamiliar, and it burned on his tongue, but the sweetness and spice and warmth of it running down his throat almost made him melt.
"Luna, I'm sorry about..." he hesitated, not sure what he was sorry about.
About the dress, of course. But also for getting them in this mess. For putting her through all of this as he stumbled around incompetently.
"Oh no..." Luna suddenly moaned and he blinked, sitting up suddenly and almost spilled some of the wine on himself. He was about to ask what it was when she shook her head at him. "There are Wrackspurts here as well. You're all fuzzy again."
He flushed, not sure if it was hot anger or embarrassment or what he felt quite then, but then deflated as he shook his head with renewed shame. He didn't have any right to blow up at her right now. Not ever, really.
"What will we do now, Harry?" she prodded gently, perhaps seeing that he had gone back to his brooding again.
He blinked, realizing that he hadn't even thought about that. "Right, we, uh..."
They had money now.
Enough to last a while at least, even if they stayed at the inn. But how did they go about getting back? Could they hope to wait this out and wait for someone to come looking? No, definitely not. Draco had been certain that no one would find the Vanishing Cabinet, and there was no way that Harry could conceive of for someone to even begin to think to look for them in the Room of Requirement.
Or worse yet, in another bloody world beyond the Cabinet in the Room?
What did he usually do when presented with a mystery? He investigated.
"We should try going back to where we landed. Tomorrow maybe. There hasn't been any snowfall, so we can probably backtrack all the way to where we landed. Maybe we can find some clues about how it happened... Or something."
It was the best he could come up with, something good enough to pin his hopes on for now.
She nodded very seriously, before smiling. "It's very reassuring how brave and calm you are. I've never been this lost before, but I suppose you have, Harry."
"Huh?"
"It's good you've been on so many adventures, I think. It doesn't phase you to be completely out of your depth, it must come from experience with being scared and bewildered so often." She nodded again, seeming quite satisfied with her conclusion.
Harry snorted, not sure if he should take being called an experienced incompetent as a compliment. "Thanks."
"You're very welcome, Harry."
Shaking his head at how very Luna that was, he took another sip of his cup, feeling slightly better despite himself.
They sat there for another short while before he stood up. He felt slightly light-headed, but not too woozy. The spiced wine had probably been quite strong. He wasn't very experienced when it came to wine and liqueur after all. But, the burning in his gut was telling him it was time to call it quits.
"I don't think we should drink much more. We can probably store the rest of the bottle for later."
She nodded, downing the rest of her own cup before pouring the last few drops from the bottom of the kettle and drinking that too. Thoring waved them to just leave the cups and kettle by a table when she rose to return them.
"If we're going to walk there tomorrow morning, we should probably spend the rest of today getting ready," he suggested.
"That sounds very reasonable."
He continued. "So, what should we bring with us? You went camping in Sweden in the summer with your father, didn't you?"
She nodded, raising a lone finger to her lips as her eyes went to the ceiling. She tapped at her lower lip, considering out loud as she did. "We'll need a net, calipers, two pounds of maize flour, a bag..."
"Erm... Why don't we start off with some better clothes? Can we transfigure those, or should we try buying them here?" he suggested, trying to move the discussion away from any gear they wouldn't actually need unless they went looking for some of Luna's creatures.
Transfigured clothes would work well in the short-term, but they probably would want real clothes sooner or later.
"Oh, shoes. And warm socks!" she suggested loudly. "Many pairs. We'll want to change them. And Nargles don't like sweaty socks, so they are very safe to put away."
He nodded and ignored the latter half of her comment, for now, glaring at his own footwear. They certainly looked nice enough, but they weren't exactly comfortable or warm enough. "Boots. The furry kind, on the inside I mean, like the guards have," he said with determination.
Luna nodded with wide eyes, obviously liking that idea. "Fuzzy boots..."
"And we'll need food. Just in case we get lost or have to stay awhile," he thought, considering what they would need with his arms crossed.
"Yes, flour. We can melt snow and make flatbread. Daddy would often charm them to look and move like Umgubular Slashkilters and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks for fun in the evenings after we set up the tent."
Oh.
It would probably be lighter and more compact than bringing already baked bread along, he acknowledged with a nod. Though he didn't quite know how to make bread out of just flour. But it couldn't be that hard, he thought. Hopefully, Luna knew how to make some, though.
"Should we bring a tent?" he asked, thinking back to the summer before his fourth year, at the Quidditch World Cup. The large—on the inside anyhow, and that was all that really mattered—tent had been rather nice, even if he didn't know the space expansion charms to make one.
"No, no, you put the net up with a stick, like so," she tried to show how with her hands and wand, but Harry didn't quite know what to make her pantomiming. "And then you pack leaves or snow on top of it. It's much warmer and harder to spot that way. And then you can move the whole tent with you when we find tracks to follow."
That... might actually work.
A net would be pretty light compared to a whole tent and they should be able to find one pretty easily down by the docks. Or maybe just a wide roll of cloth. Nets would probably be more expensive to buy. Or then they could just transfigure that as well. Would it last the night, or disappear and cause the piled snow to fall on top of them? Permanent transfigurations were a N.E.W.T. subject in Transfiguration, but he hadn't gotten to that yet...
Hermione might know how to do that, but...
Harry shook his head. No, no, they weren't planning on staying the night, so it wasn't like they needed the net. And carrying something permanent would just defeat the advantage of transfiguring it in the first place. But they might have to stay, so it made sense as a precaution. It wouldn't weigh much anyhow, he thought.
If they could find it for cheap, they would buy it, then. If not, they would figure something out with magic.
He looked at Luna with a newfound sense of respect; she really did know a lot about stuff like this. He hated to think how awkward camping without anyone more experienced with him would be. Tilting his head, he asked about the last item which still didn't quite fit his understanding; "Then, what are the calipers for?"
"Oh, they're for measuring the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, when we find it."
Harry snorted and she looked slightly affronted at his reaction. "We won't need those."
"And why not?" she asked, not quite cross.
"Uh... They're not going to help us find our way back to Hogwarts, I mean," he replied hastily and she blinked, apparently mollified by his explanation. "But can you make another pair of those glasses you had? Maybe you can find the trail of Wrackspurts again. They might not be, umm, natural to his world and could help us find the way back."
"Oh, that's a very clever idea, Harry." She beamed, but then shook her head. "But I'm afraid not. Daddy promised he would teach me the spell after my O.W.L.s," she explained slightly wistfully, rolling a finger through her hair as she looked away dreamily.
"Don't worry, Luna. We'll get back before the end of the year exams. I promise," he reassured her.
Smiling, she nodded. "Alright, Harry."
That night Harry dreamed of death and destruction.
Dark laughter and painfully familiar screams of despair woke him up and for a moment his unfamiliar surroundings blended with the nightmarish visions still dancing through his consciousness, resulting in a small dent in the wall after he had cast a disarming charm at a particularly human-like shadow on the wall.
He panted, swinging his legs down to the icy cold stone floor. The cold shiver ran up all the way to the back of his head and he exhaled a long breath, allowing his body to radiate with the contained heat. It felt like his sweat was coming off his skin as steam. He enjoyed the sensation until finally the tips of his toes began to tingle painfully from the cold. Getting up, he put on his clothes and gathered his things, leaving the room for the large hall with the fire and tables. The embers had died during the night, but the warmth had soaked into the stone floor during the day and still radiated pleasantly.
Sitting down on a low stool he moved next to the fire pit, he allowed his head to fall into his hands, resting his elbows against his knees.
The night hadn't brought him any respite, his exhaustion from the previous day barely dented by the ill dreams of the night. Hadn't the townspeople already mentioned it several times now how no one seemed to be able to get a good night's rest recently? Then again, it wasn't as if nightmares were anything new to him. Not since a very long time ago. He was trying very hard not to think about his malignant dreams and how he should be back in Hogwarts, how people would react once they realized the Chosen One had vanished, how he was letting everyone he knew down with every minute he wasted here...
Shaking his head again, he put the bag he had bought yesterday on the floor. It was a simple sack made out of sturdy cloth, large enough that he could have worn it as a shirt if he poked some holes into it first. It had a length of rope as a strap which also closed the mouth of the bag when pulled tight, allowing him to carry it over his shoulder without fear of anything falling out.
Opening it now he spread out the things he had bought on the table. The essentials he couldn't simply transfigure from other things. Mostly it was just food, as he had come to realize just how dead useful transfiguration was. As long as he could remember the specific incantations anyhow.
Luna was much better at that, they had realized, despite Harry's excellent O.W.L. results.
She had told him how she had made the lion's head hat with transfiguration and charms as an assignment, which had apparently quite impressed both McGonagall and Flitwick. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but when he had tried to think about how to actually make something like that he found himself quite stumped as to where to even begin.
There wasn't a spell to just make a hat like that, much less one that roared so convincingly. Not any that he knew anyhow.
Feeling slightly sullen about that fact, he tried to think about all the spells he knew he could do instead. Charms he was alright at, but it was DADA he felt most comfortable with. Jinxes, hexes and even curses came easy to him... But those couldn't really create anything like Luna had.
"Well, at least I can do this, Expecto Patronum," he spoke quietly, dispelling his sullen mood by force of will and happy memory, as he brought his wand to bear.
The proud stag manifested with a leap out of his wand, its silvery shimmering and smoky form looking about the room alertly before it began to walk around to smell and hoof at the various tables and pillars. He put away his wand, looking at the majestic creature with something between familiar reverence and aching longing. Then, as if compelled by something, it leaped out through a wall and into the night.
Harry blinked, not certain what to make of his spirit guardian leaving him like that all of a sudden. He shook his head, his exhaustion still wearing him down considerably. Thinking to himself that he probably wasn't going to fall asleep again, but it wasn't as if he had anything better to do, he closed his eyes.
"Good morning, Harry."
He opened his eyes with a start, realizing that he was being addressed. Sitting up, he stretched his neck as he realized he had a painful crick from sleeping in an odd, hunched-over position.
"M'rning, Luna..." he muttered somewhat blearily.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked innocently.
About to answer waspishly, remembering his earlier nightmares, he looked up at her. But then he realized that the crick in his neck aside, he actually felt quite well-rested now. "I s'pose I did, yeah..."
That still didn't mean that his eyes didn't feel crusty and sandy, however. With a grunt, he began to look for his glasses with a groping hand.
"Oh, good. So did I. Shall we have ourselves some breakfast, then?" she continued with cheer.
"Sure, do you want cheese or bread?" he asked as he put on his spectacles and brought the world back to clarity. Reaching out and grabbing their pack, he raised the bag with their foodstuffs up with one hand.
"I don't suppose you have any pudding?"
He shook his head. "Afraid we're all out of pudding, madame. Would you prefer water or wine? Actually, don't answer that, we're not getting sloshed first thing in the morning."
"Tea would be nice," Luna opined airily as she sat down next to him.
"Right, let me just find the bags then," he groused sarcastically.
She looked at him queerly. "Oh, the bag is right here, Harry. Did you lose it, just now? That sometimes happens to me, things just wandering off on their own the moment I look away."
"No, I meant the tea bags, Luna. Which we don't have." Harry huffed.
"A bag? Just for tea?" She appeared amazed by the concept.
Letting out a shuddering laugh, as he supposed they didn't have paper tea bags in Hogwarts, so he decided to let the topic be. It was far too early for this much Luna for him right now. "Let's just eat and be on our way."
"Alright, Harry, if you want. Could you please pass the cheese knife?"
There hadn't been any snowfall in the past few days, luckily.
But they hadn't counted on the wind. Powdery white snow danced and twirled with every gust and breeze, sometimes blinding both as they walked back down the road they had used mere days ago the other way around. By the time they found the trail in the snowbank, the sun was just rising over the horizon and stretching out with its golden rays across the pristine white planes and towering mountaintops, having almost missed it because of the wind filling in their old tracks.
Walking the way back to where they had landed wasn't any easier the second time either, as the hardened bottom of the trail had moulded a very specific shape in the form of Harry's shoes and then frozen over. A shape that matched his previously smaller shoes and not the warm boots they had transfigured the day prior out of some old pieces of wood. A shape, which had angled outwards and down with his treading steps the first time, making it a rather awkward upwards and inwards angle this way around. While the soft-bottomed boots that went up to their calves were incredibly warm and comfortable compared to their previous legwear, walking was still becoming increasingly difficult with every laboured step.
Halfway up the trail, Harry's calves—especially the front of his shin, somehow—felt as if it was on fire with the exertation, and his knees and ankles felt like they had been permanently wrenched 90 degrees inward from having to walk his own trail backward. It felt like walking in clown shoes and tripping over his own feet.
It was pure misery, he thought.
And once they had gotten back to where their trail began and ended, it hadn't gotten any better.
There wasn't anything really there.
It was after standing around for half an hour that he finally had to accept and acknowledge the fact that he had no idea what to do. He had his wand, but it wasn't as if he had ever been taught a spell to do... anything, that would help him here. Maybe if he had been taught how to apparate properly, he might know how to find old apparition points and retrace them back, but he doubted it. Did they even teach such a thing to those first learning how to apparate? And would he have even been paying attention, when they were?
He had taken comfort in the knowledge that at least he knew where they had arrived so that he could maybe come back later again.
Only, again, he hadn't counted on the wind.
Luna had dreamily pointed out how quickly the clouds above were moving when he had shared his thoughts and he had had to admit that she was right. They could have been blown wildly off course during their fall, meaning that the point where they had appeared wasn't necessarily even directly above them where they had landed and stood right now. And neither had thought to note the direction of the wind's blowing on the night of their arrival, either. Maybe if he had a broom with him, he could have flown up and tried to see if he recognized anything...
He had ambled around for another hour, hoping to find something, anything, only finally when his stomach began demanding food did he realize that he had to give up. Clearing out space, he had transfigured them chairs and started a fire, and called out to Luna. She had appeared from the woodwork after a while and they had settled down to share some bread and cheese with water heated over the fire.
"Luna... I can't find anything," he admitted quietly, sitting with his hands on his knees as he stared at the fire tiredly.
"Oh..." was all she said for a while, apparently having lain her own hopes on his shoulders as well, which only managed to make him feel even worse about his helplessness.
Shortly, it began to snow as well.
Small, gentle petals at first, but quickly it turned into a dense cloaking fall that began to cover everything in heavy white, damping and pressing down all around them like the static on the telly. Visibility turned so poor that they lost sight of the mountains and the sea, with even the most nearby trees seemingly vanishing behind the thick veil of white.
"Harry..." Luna eventually spoke, so softly it might have just been the wind.
He looked up, not saying anything.
"Would you like some tea?"
He scoffed, but then shrugged, his eyes returning to his hands as his thoughts continued to whirl about. Hermione and Ron would be worried sick by now, surely. Dumbledore would probably be just as disappointed, while Voldemort would no doubt be laughing it up at the 'Chosen One' having quite literally up and vanished himself from Hogwarts in the middle of the night.
What would happen to Hogwarts and to Britain, with him gone?
"Here you go, Harry."
Luna's voice broke him out of his funk once more and he mechanically accepted the proffered mug. He looked down at the steaming water in the cup and almost scoffed again.
What tea? It was just hot water.
Still, the cold had begun to seep into him despite the thicker clothes he and Luna had transfigured the day before from lengths of cloth bought down by the docks, layered with some old furs they had also managed to get cheaply on the side.
Tentatively he brought up the mug, blowing at it once, before taking a sip. And almost spat it back out immediately; the bitter taste and slight touch of lemon in the hot water so unexpected against his senses. He looked at Luna who was quietly drinking her own tea across from him with wide eyes, before looking down again into the cup.
She really had made tea.
Sipping again, this time ready for the flavour, he tried to recognize it but found that he simply couldn't. It wasn't bad; the bitterness being rather refreshing to his thirst, but he couldn't say that it was very good either.
"Luna, what is this?" he asked finally.
"Pine tea. Daddy and I used to drink it in Sweden," she explained. "Do you like it?"
Grimacing, he shrugged and took another sip. "...I don't know."
"I see."
"It's quite bitter," he remarked to fill the silence, now again having grown aware of Luna and preferring being mindful of her to thinking and remembering and doubting himself constantly, as it had seemingly been all he had been doing for the past few days.
"Yes, I suppose it rather is."
He drank some more nonetheless, the warmth seeping and the curious taste giving him something to mull over.
But his thoughts could only go one way, regardless of his wishes. "Do you think they're looking for us, right now?"
"I should hope so. The only thing worse than being gone is being gone and forgotten," Luna said, her words heavier than usual and he couldn't help but glance at her. She, too, was looking out at nothing, lost in her own little world as she sipped her hot tea.
Looking down again, he wondered. "Maybe. But... but maybe it would be better, not forcing them to wonder and hope. I mean..." He stumbled over his words, unable to adequately put to words his thoughts. That maybe he would have wished they not remember him at all if his absence would cause much pain. Until finally he shook his head and gave up. "Never mind..."
"I should at least want to be remembered when I die."
Harry frowned, looking up with furrowed brows. Almost on reflex, he spoke to deny her words. "You're not going to die, Luna."
He would bloody well see to that. Their eyes met and she smiled slightly.
"Thank you, Harry. But I will. One day, as we all do."
Wanting to argue back, but recognizing the foolishness of such suddenly as he looked at Luna, he grumbled instead as he returned his focus to his tea. He didn't understand her at all at times. What was the point thinking about something that far off? It felt like she wasn't quite present in the moment, looking at their current problems.
"And someday they too will have no other choice, than to accept us as having already passed away, as well."
Her words ran painfully true when all he wanted was to brood in silence. But she was right. One could only be gone for so long before someone finally decided that you had to have died.
"Sod that," he said, standing up. Angry energy ran through him and he realized he was balling his fists so hard they were shaking now. "Like bloody hell I'll just accept that."
He almost threw aside the mug with its contents, but then thought better of it and simply threw back his head and drained the whole thing, then tossed it aside. Transfigured cup was one thing, but she had made him tea and that wasn't to be wasted.
"Come on, Luna. We're going back to Dawnstar."
She blinked up at him, eyes wide at his apparent swing of mood. "Alright, Harry. But it's rather late already. Will we find our way back in the snow? I don't know the stars here, either..." she said, now staring directly up at the speckled sky above, barely visible through the heavy fall.
It had grown dark and the precipitation had been thick. Was still thick. He couldn't find the twice-traversed trail, nor could he see the mountains about them for direction back to the road, much less navigate by the unknown and equally hidden stars of this world.
Scowling, he shook his head. "Like I bloody well care. I'll just apparate us back." Her mouth formed a perfect o then, as if she had only now remembered that he could do such. "Get our things. No point in staying here any longer."
He could just apparate here again if he wanted to, a fact that he only now realized with mounting annoyance. They had walked all the way out here for nearly nothing. Looking around he imprinted this place firmly into his memory, making certain that he wouldn't forget it. For when he would come back, properly armed with the knowledge and skill necessary to get them back to Hogwarts. To home.
Presently, Luna had put out the fire and collected their things, the un-transfigured ones anyhow, grabbing a hold of his arm. They exchanged a quick look before Harry took out his wand and then spun in place, his magic flaring out and expanding.
The squeezing sensation wasn't nearly as breath-stealing and gut-wrenching as it was the first time, much more like what he remembered from his first time to the rooftop, as the world whizzed past hyperagonally.
Opening his eyes, he looked at Dawnstar in the distance down the road, just as he remembered seeing it the first time. The damping fall wasn't quite enough to dim out all the lights, but even so, the distant sounds of people settling in for the night were muffled and distant. Just as much as it had the first time they had come down the road the night before yesterday, it looked like a far-off dream they had stumbled into somehow, as the houses and features clearly visible during the day had become warped and nigh-indiscernible against the white banks and black beach.
Their imaginations twisted the shadows out of shape and then hinted at things that clearly hadn't been there before. For a moment Harry even entertained the idea that he might have gotten them somewhere else entirely again, his apparition so unreliable. Maybe if he squinted, he could see a little of Hogsmeade in that house over there, or... But no. He couldn't fool himself with such ideas for long.
"I feel so stupid for not remembering that I could have just apparated us there... Bloody well wasted the whole day."
"Oh, I don't think so. It was quite a nice day for a walk," Luna opined cheerfully to match his dark misgivings. "And I found so many herbs and flowers and berries along the way! We should go see Frida again tomorrow, Harry. I'm sure she'll be happy to see what we brought back."
"Huh?" he grunted, intelligently, in query.
She raised a bag that he didn't remember seeing before, opening it to show how its insides were divided into compartments, filled to the brim with various small and colourful things that she must have picked up along the way. Some of which he thought he recognized vaguely.
Had she picked out things in the alchemist's shop and looked for them the whole day? He realized he was staring at her now with his mouth hanging open in amazement.
"Brilliant, Luna!" It was all he could say.
She smiled at his honest praise, closing the bag carefully as she tried to keep the snow from falling in.
Feeling much better about the day and honestly much too tired to brood further over his longing for the soft and warm beds of Windpeak Inn, he lead them back there with his fur-clad feet kicking aside the freshly-fallen snow like geysers as he pumped forward, pushing through the cold of night and sea breeze and snow fall. Getting the door open was a battle in and of itself as the snow had piled up to their knees in front of it, forcing him and Luna to kick away at the piles to clear away enough room for the portal to swing open. The heat from the fires inside had also melted much of the snow right next to the wall, making it watery slush that their clothes and boots seemed much too happy to absorb, almost to the point of squelchy bursting with each step.
"Ugh!"
Finally making it inside, they shook their heads and brushed themselves as dry as possible as they closed the door behind them.
The Inn was abuzz with people, the tense current of a loud argument interrupted unmistakable as a dozen heads turned to eye the closing door. Harry flushed, half out of the sudden attention and half from the warmth now pooling in and through his layers of clothing comfortingly. He opened his mouth to say something, but by then everyone had lost interest in him and had returned to their earlier discussion once more.
Luna ambled off to warm herself by the fire as Harry walked over to secure their rooms for the night. He noted confidently that with so few patrons compared to the days prior, getting rooms shouldn't be a problem.
"Good evening, sir."
"Evening. I see you two have managed to get yourselves some new clothes, then. Good, that. This snowstorm won't be easing up for at least a few nights..."
"Oh, err... Yes, thank you." Harry nodded, filing that titbit aside while also curiously looking at the innkeeper. He seemed much more energetic and relaxed than before. "Are the two rooms I paid for last night still available? We'd like to stay another night."
The innkeeper nodded towards the rooms, saying, "They haven't been touched. Thought you might be coming back. It's another 20 septims, of course."
"Right, of course. Here—"
The front door was kicked open again and even all the way by the counter, across the entire long hall from the door, Harry shivered at the lance of cold air that seemed to reach out to him despite the long hall between the counter and door. Turning around, he eyed as several of the guard filed in, led by a man wearing the same garb but for the lack of a helmet. Piercing blue eyes scanned the inn, set in a wrinkled and wind-worn face from which an impressive mustache and mutton chops sprouted, nearly completely at odds with the otherwise short-cropped blonde hair on the man's head.
"By order of the Jarl, settle down you lot!" the man in question roared as the door was closed behind them. "The Jarl himself could hear you shouting from across town!"
"But Jod, something's happened. You must have felt it, too. Even the Jarl can't deny it. Don't think we didn't notice he wasn't out of bed long past noon today!" Someone in a loose white shirt shouted, standing up by the fire. They stood at equal height and width, with arms thicker than Harry's legs and chests like barrels.
The man leading the guards, Jod, grumbled before pointing at the seated men with a calloused, frying pan-like hand. "The Jarl has ordered Madena to look into the matter already. You lot should just keep your heads in the mines and leave these things to your betters."
To emphasize his words, the hand was reeled back in and came to rest upon the head of a large axe hanging from the guard's belt. Intricately carved with swirling patterns, its presence suddenly drew the hall into a hushed silence.
Grunting with some satisfaction, Jod turned around to leave. But someone drew forth the courage to speak, stopping the gaggle of guards before they could walk out through the door.
"Then what about the white stag?"
"Yeah!" Someone else immediately joined in from the other side of the hall, having remained quietly in the dark corner until now. "What about the white stag?"
"It must be a sign from the gods!"
Harry felt his stomach fall through the floor as he froze.
They had seen his Patronus? Was that what this entire argument was about? Had he gotten the guards' and the Jarl's—whatever that was—attention when they needed to hide their magic? Worriedly looking about, he found Luna and tried to get her attention. But her gaze was decidedly locked onto the loud discussion. She was smiling and swaying her head left and right, remaining wholly unnoticed even as next to her burly men were standing up to join in on the shouting.
Finally, it seemed as if the guards had had enough as weapons were drawn. But Harry had no eyes for them as he hurried to Luna, grabbing her by the shoulder to get her attention. Pale silvery eyes turned up to regard him, blinking curiously as he motioned for them to get out of the hall.
She followed after him without a word and after he closed the door to his room, cutting out most of the shouting beyond, she asked the question foremost on her mind at the moment. "Was that your Patronus last night, Harry?"
"Err, yeah it was," he admitted sheepishly, hoping she wouldn't ask why he had thought to cast the charm last night. He wasn't entirely clear on the reason himself anymore, either. Something about his sleep-deprived state had made his head weird and thinking back to it made him feel rather foolish.
Raising a thoughtful finger to her lower lip, she peered up at the ceiling. "I didn't know that you could do that. I thought he only came to prance in my dreams because he might have missed me."
"Oh, err, he was in your, I mean, what?" He shook his head, his thoughts already in a confusing loop.
"Everyone has been sleeping rather terribly, hadn't you heard Harry?" She was now peering at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Perhaps there is a Lethifold or even a Quivering Shadedam here..." She trailed off, suddenly in deep thought, leaving Harry to blink as he digested what she had said.
He hadn't been the only one with nightmares?
"Huh."
Maybe he should let Prongs out for a walk again tonight. Just... inside his room so no one could connect it back to him. Because that sounded like too much trouble. Shrugging and not bothering to think more about it, they settled for the evening. Ignoring the rest of the commotion as the patrons and guardsmen argued, they got out of their wet clothes and changed into dry ones. Each in the privacy of their own rooms, of course.
After that, they ate and said their goodnights and went to bed.
Harry almost forgot to cast his Patronus, but the moment just before he fell asleep he remembered and pulled out his wand. Whispering the words from within the warm and comfortable folds of his blanket, his extended hand turning to gooseflesh from the touch of cold air, he fell asleep at the sight of Prongs prancing about his bedroom.
