Alright, last set-up chapter! Art for Impa and Avoka, the Sheikah NPCs introduced in this chapter, is up on the garden-eel-draws tumblr under my new "characters" tag on the pinned navigation post, as well as linked in the Ao3 version of this.
Meta Announcement: Art Fight 2022 is coming up soon [as of 6/25/2022], and I'm going to be a participant! Art Fight is an art-trade competition where people draw other people's OCs as "attacks" that earn them points for their team. I'm on artfight dot net as Garden_Eel (same username and pfp as on Ao3), if you'd like to pick an art-fight with me!
'I've turned into my worst enemy. I can't believe Snivellus does this for a living,' Sirius internally bemoaned as he stepped in to halt a first-year's attempt at making a weak Blue Potion. He could tell on sight that she'd used an entire Hylian Bass instead of only the undesirable bits. Combining it with the Sleepy Toadstool spores and ground blue sea-snail shells had resulted in a strange green and purple sludge that reeked like a goat's arse. After ten minutes of simmering, she should have had a blue honey-like substance that smelled like the sea. The girl stood a few meters away from her cauldron with her hand over her nose, shamefaced.
Hylian potions were simple to make, but very strange. Boiling bugs, poisonous mushrooms, monster parts, and lizards with the bones and offal of animals drew some sort of magical gel out of the ingredients, despite said gel clearly not being present before cooking. Mixing meat or vegetables with any "undesirables" would ruin whatever process was happening, resulting in horrible (but supposedly non-toxic, according to the Deku Queen) goop. As Primrose had explained it, like magic strengthened like, different magics cancelled out, and only inedible things could be used in potions. When Sirius had pointed out that lizards and a great many insects were perfectly edible (because he had spent enough time as a starving dog to know these things), the queen had gawked at him like he'd spoken in tongues before having one of her servants fetch a cookbook for him to study.
Sirius dropped a lid over the mess in the first-year's bubbling pot and turned off the magic-powered stove burner it sat on. "Do you know where you messed up, Miss Erskine?" he asked the girl.
"I didn't take apart the fish first," she mumbled, her voice further muffled by the bandana tied over her mouth. While the Deku Tree had managed to filter out the unseen poisons in the air, the remaining ash made masks a required accessory, even indoors. "It's just so gross. I thought I might, erm…be able to skip it." She shifted from foot to foot. "I wasted ingredients again. Sorry, Mr. Black."
"Well, you are here to learn," he said. "Scoop this stuff into a bucket and take it out to the gardens, will you? The mushroom-growers can use it."
She nodded. "Mmkay."
Sirius went to check another row of brewing potions. Queen Primrose had lent them a lesser-used palace kitchen to host potion-making sessions. There were four stoves scaled to Deku Scrub height with enough space for four large pots each, so Sirius and Kajiwara had been switching out groups of sixteen to make sure all of them had a grasp of the basics. The Deku Queen herself sometimes showed up with her daughter in tow to check on their progress.
The Deku Queen was someone that Sirius had a hard time getting a read on, and not only because her job kept her too busy to pay frequent visits to her human guests. It was just that she was so genuinely nice. It didn't make sense, given her social standing. She was a very intelligent and scholarly person, going by her extensive library and her style of speech (as funneled through Zelda's translation), but at the same time it had been far too easy to convince her to help and she was generous with her city's resources. Foolishly so, even. Sirius had been taken aback when the woman had not only allowed all these strange humans to stay in her small realm, but also allowed them to brew potions using her palace's ingredient stock. Sirius couldn't understand why she was so willing to help a group of outsiders to such a degree. Sure, the Deku Scrubs could also use the potions the Ravenclaws were churning out, but that didn't seem like an equal return on the queen's high investment. It was a level of altruism that Sirius couldn't help being suspicious of despite how authentic it seemed. How could any aristocrat, let alone royalty, be so willing to help? Kindness and a willingness to trust strangers were what got you ruined (if not killed) in high society. The higher up you went, the more cutthroat you had to be to stay there.
It was much easier to understand the reactions of the Ravenclaw students toward him. The seventh-years were understandably cautious. Most of them had done extra reading up on his case after the news of his escape had come out, which meant they'd absorbed twisted facts from a variety of biased sources. Against those voices of authority, Sirius sounded like a criminal making up a wild tale to trick his way to freedom. He was slowly winning them over by keeping his story consistent, though; the fact that it was the truth made it easy to keep the details straight. The younger kids, by contrast, were more willing to believe in his innocence. From their point of view, the newspapers had shown them one thing and Sirius had shown them another, and they'd spent more time around Sirius than they had poring over newspapers. The first and second-years were also accustomed to having adult supervision, so even the most recalcitrant of them wound up seeking him out for guidance at some point. Seventh-year students might have been practically adults, but Sirius was the only real human adult around. He was essentially a substitute teacher at this point.
He passed by the bubbling pot of a second-year's potion. It wasn't horrible slime, but it was red. "Did you forget the snail shells?" Sirius asked, making the student jump and clutch at his chest. "Oh, whoops. Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. He tried to call the student's last name to his mind. It was hard to spell and started with "a". Arger? Agar? Wait, Agarkar! That was it.
"There's a reason why Professor Snape is so dramatic in his classroom, you know," Agarkar said, rubbing away the pink steam clouding his glasses. "It's so he doesn't spook anyone into blowing something up by accidentally sneaking up on them."
Sirius fought down a sneer at the mention of Snivellus. Even if the younger kids were somewhat less afraid of Sirius, they still watched his facial expressions like a hawk. "If you say so," he said with put-on nonchalance. "So, what are you up to here, Mister Agarkar?"
"I'm isolating ingredients to observe their interactions and effects," the boy replied. "I'm also cataloguing which ingredients would be most helpful for us to scavenge in the wild."
Sirius blinked. "You're a second-year, aren't you?"
"Yes, and?"
"Er, just checking. How has your research been going?" He leaned over Agarkar's open notebook. Ah, so he was a muggleborn, then? Or maybe a half-blood? Few wizards wrote in pencil on lined paper, despite the convenience of being able to erase things.
"In the Blue Potions we've been making, the deciding factor of the potion's strength—whether it turns out a basic red or a more powerful blue—is the blue snail shells. The Hylian Bass also serves to strengthen the potion, but it'll always turn out blue so long as the snail shells are included," the boy said. "Omitting the Sleepy Toadstool spores results in a plain and unpleasant soup, meaning that a magical ingredient that would otherwise be dangerous to consume—be it a toxic mushroom or some part of a monster's anatomy—is required to prompt a potion. Otherwise one will have simmered fish guts and rare snail shells for nothing."
The kid's thorough notes said much the same thing. "You know, I'm teaching out of a basic potions manual, but I'm sure Queen Primrose has some more advanced books about this that you could borrow."
"They're all in Hylian, though, and the classes we've been having aren't nearly enough for me to follow a technical recipe yet," the boy said. "Besides, they're the Queen's books. I can't borrow something from a queen!"
"I don't see why not. She's given me a cookbook for personal reading, and Luna a Gerudo-to-Hylian dictionary. Kajiwara's borrowing a big scroll about the spirits of Hyrule," Sirius said with a shrug. "You could just ask Zelda to help you read it, if she has the time. She gets bored in her book."
Agarkar's mouth fell open. He agitatedly adjusted his glasses. "You want me to borrow a book from a queen and ask another queen to translate it?!"
Sirius paused to think on that. "Huh, I forgot Zelda was royalty." It wasn't exactly queenly behavior to host linguistics classes for large groups of peasant children, after all. "But yes, you should do that. It would certainly save you some time."
The boy just squeaked.
"Mr. Black?" a voice called across the kitchen. A first-year at another stove had his hand in the air. "Mira's gone barmy again." He pointed at a girl standing at the stove adjacent to his. She stared with fascination at the red-hot metal burner under her pot. The boy had his other hand clamped onto her bony wrist to keep her from reaching out and touching it. She was straining to reach for it anyway, her other hand moving to join in.
Sirius's eyes went wide and he hustled across the room. Miranda "Mira" Flockton was the last child saved from the Lost Woods. She'd been out in the elements for two and a half days, caught in the spell of a Skull Kid's concert. She hadn't had a drink of water, a bite of food, or a wink of sleep in the time she'd been entranced; the Deku soldiers had had to carry her back on a stretcher and rush her to the town hospital. While the Skull Kid hadn't meant to hurt her (and had reportedly been very confused when a squad of Deku Scrubs had run in to snatch their trumpet), the ghostly child's magic had left a mark on Mira's mind. All the students saved from the forest had mild fits of strangeness, but Mira was the only one that needed a constant minder to keep her from wandering off or hurting herself.
Making sure to use slow, gentle movements, Sirius tugged Mira away from the stove and turned her around to face him. She burst into tears. "But it's so pretty," she wept. "Why can't I have it? Why can't I have pretty things anymore?"
"Sometimes pretty things will hurt you," Sirius said.
"Trumpeter wasn't mean! They only wanted to play a song for me!"
"Yes, but it was a magic song that people aren't supposed to hear. Skull Kids play music meant for the forest spirits, not for people," Sirius said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe her tears. Crying was common for one of these fits. "Hey, do you want to pick some mushrooms? If you leave them at the edge of the village, they'll be able to find them. I bet your friend would like some mushrooms, don't you?" The fairy-struck kids had been left with a permanent fascination with anything shiny, glowing, or brightly colored, and Hylian mushrooms were frequently one or more of the three.
She sniffled. "L-Like some of those pretty green ones?"
"Yes, especially the pretty green ones." He enclosed her small hand in a firm grasp and guided her toward the back exit, which led to the castle gardens.
"I'm going out now. Watch the kids, please," he muttered in Hylian to one of the guards by the door. The soldier nodded and continued monitoring the class. It wasn't that Sirius didn't trust the young Ravenclaws, but he'd learned that eleven and twelve-year-olds were often absent-minded, clumsy, and prone to cooking things to a blackened sludge or knocking pots of potion over no matter how smart they were. The Sleepy Toadstools they were working with could also, true to their name, knock a kid out cold for a day if they shook enough of its spores into the air with rough handling. The incredible stability of Hylian potions was the main reason why their "classroom" hadn't blown up yet.
"I trust you clever Ravenclaws won't start any fires or snort toadstool dust while I'm gone?" Sirius called over his shoulder in English. There was a smattering response of "We'll try!"
Sirius led Mira outside, whereupon her teary expression became a beatific smile. That wasn't entirely a good sign; the fairy-struck students had a habit of being fascinated by and drawn toward the woods, even though the Skull Kids kept their concerts well away from the Deku Scrub village. Sirius hoped that the effect of being easily distracted and lured would fade over time, otherwise he and Kajiwara were going to have a hell of a time keeping their haphazard flock together as they traveled back to the castle. The nearest train station was a six-kilometer trek from the southeastern side of Kokiri Lake, and that was after the seven-kilometer sailing trip across a body of water full of bright, interesting fish and aquatic spirits. Sirius wouldn't put it past Mira or one of the other more heavily-affected kids to jump out of a boat to chase down the finned equivalent of a Blupee. In losing some of their grip on reality, they'd gained a powerful sense of spirit sight, which only made their wandering habits more dangerous.
"Wow, don't those look nice?" Sirius said loudly, nudging the girl toward an artsy rack of Stamella Mushrooms. Sirius was familiar with those, since he'd come across several mentions of them in the Hylian cookbook he'd been reading. Despite how toxic they looked, they were a perfectly edible magical fungus that gave people a little energy boost when cooked into a meal. And, unlike the Sleepy Toadstools often used as a magical catalyst for potions, they could be safely manhandled by children having temporary episodes of toddler-like discoordination.
Mira made a pleased little noise and plucked two mushrooms with clumsy fists. She waved them around and happily bashed their acid green caps together. Sirius was glad she hadn't lapsed into this state before she'd mostly completed her potion, otherwise he would have been taking her to the hospital to sleep off a mild magical coma right about now.
He pocketed another couple of mushrooms for her to play with in case she destroyed the ones she was holding, then guided her over to one of the benches of curling, still-living vines that marked the garden here and there. Members of the general public were allowed to stroll in and pick whatever they liked from the polished stala troughs of mushrooms supported by metal racks shaped to look like trees with woven branches. There was a close-packed orchard of apple trees, too, as well as plots of magical cooking ingredients like Hearty Radishes, Blue Nightshade (which was luminous but not poisonous, oddly enough), Endura Carrots, Tabantha Wheat, and Fortified Pumpkins. Sirius hadn't figured out how to make a proper-tasting juice out of those incredibly fibrous, difficult-to-break pumpkins yet, but if he wasn't allowed to ferment alcohol from the apples (because the Deku Scrubs considered it lethal poison), he'd at least find a way to make some wizard-ish drink.
Carefully maintained saltwater and freshwater ponds full of tropical blue snails and their green-glowing inland cousins provided the materials for the village hospital's potions, a source of protein for the omnivorous humans in town, and a font of entertainment for some of the fairy-struck kids. They really liked staring at glowing things. It was a good thing this town was full of luminous fish, mushrooms, and snails that weren't spirits who might unintentionally entertain them to death.
Hollow wooden footsteps on the garden's chevron-patterned path made Sirius glance away from his charge. He felt his spine instinctually stiffen.
It was Narcissus, the most paranoid Deku Scrub in town. Despite being honestly kind of cute, with his round face and reddish cheek marks, the general gave off an aura of someone not to be crossed. He stood a few centimeters taller than Sirius, towering over most members of his race, and spoke in a voice deep enough to be mistaken for human. He also carried a massive wooden sledgehammer with him wherever he went—the symbol of his rank—and had a high plume of cream-colored petals sprouting from his head that added to his already considerable height. All in all, Narcissus was not a being that Sirius felt comfortable letting his guard down around, and the feeling was mutual. The military commander was cold and sharp with everyone but his wife and daughter.
Speaking of Narcissus's daughter, little Princess Belle was towing her giant father toward the kitchens, presumably to see whatever Sirius's class was up to. Since the willful young princess was never let out of anyone's sight, it was common for her to drag whoever was escorting her that day to the kitchens to check in with Luna and chat with the students. Being small, approachably adorable, and not much younger than the first-years in terms of relative maturity, she got along well with them. Sirius had never seen Narcissus get roped into the princess's whims like this before. Was it his day off?
"Papa, you walk too slow!" Sirius heard the princess scold. "I want you to see my friends already!"
Narcissus sighed, which came out as a breathy trill. Sirius didn't quite understand the man's following admonishment—he had an unusually eloquent and old-fashioned style of speech—but the gist was, "Dear, must you associate with the dangerous humans?"
"They're nice! And they've been helping the village! They're really good at potions, even the kids almost as small as me," the princess said with a pout. "You know, if you let me go to those lessons—"
"No, Belle. Your mother and I agree on this. You are much too young for magic," Narcissus cut in, though not unkindly. Then he said something complicated to the tune of, "No Sleepy Toadstools for you."
"But Papaaa!"
"You were asleep for a week."
"That was months ago! I know better now."
"Mmhm," her father hummed doubtfully. "No making potions until you can be trusted to handle raw mushrooms without eating them, seedling."
"…It's not my fault they look delicious."
Sirius unsuccessfully hid a laugh at the exchange. Narcissus's reddish gold eyes snapped in his direction and narrowed with distrust. Sirius suddenly found a reason to check on Mira, who was staring in quiet confusion at the mushrooms she held—one of which had a large bite taken out of the shiny green cap. At some point, she'd worked her ash-mask down around her neck.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
"I went funny again, didn't I?" she sighed. "Figures. At least I thought to remind Noel to keep an eye on my potion."
Princess Belle skipped over, her father reluctantly following. "Hi, Mr. Black!" she chirped in English, which she'd been picking up from the kids she taught new words to. In Hylian, she asked, "What are you doing out here? Did you end your class early today?" She pouted. "I was really hoping to let Papa see what all of you do in there."
Beside Sirius, Mira blushed in mortification and clutched his elbow tight. She stared down at her knees, unable to meet the princess's eyes.
"A potion went wrong and the smell made Mira sick. I took her outside for better air," Sirius said with his limited Hylian vocabulary. He found it easy to learn, but he'd only been at it for a few weeks. "The class is still going."
"Oh, yay!" Princess Belle said, missing the irritated orange glare her father shot at Sirius over her head.
Sirius reeled in the urge to flash the man a cheeky grin in return. Humans and their corrupting influence were on thin ice with Narcissus; also, it was generally a bad idea to annoy someone who wielded a cartoonishly large hammer.
"Why don't we all go in?" he asked in Hylian, giving the scowling man a perfectly respectful smile instead. It was mostly hidden behind his ash mask, but Deku Scrubs were good at reading eyes. "We're making Blue Potions today."
"Blue is my favorite color!" The girl skipped off to the kitchen-turned-classroom, where a soldier respectfully greeted her at the door and let her in.
Narcissus didn't immediately follow. Instead he frowned at Sirius for a few seconds, then looked down at the intimidated eleven-year-old pressed into the folds of her temporary guardian's robes. "She's one of the Lost Ones," the general remarked. "Is it safe for them to be in a room with hot stoves?" He nodded toward the kitchen.
Sirius rolled his eyes. Despite Narcissus's firm suspicion of humans, especially foreign humans with strangely powerful magic, he still kept trying to parent Sirius's kids. Sirius supposed it was understandable, given that the man was a father and experienced instructor and Sirius was neither of those things, but it he still found it irritating.
"Other students watch them," he said in Hylian. "If an injury happens…we're making a Blue Potion today." He shrugged.
Narcissus huffed sharply though his tubular snout—a not-so-subtle threat, coming from a being that could spit Deku seeds like bullets from the same opening. "An injury shouldn't happen."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "We're mages. Injuries always happen. Magic goes wrong and potions back home can explode. We still learn."
A white flicker of surprise in the Deku Scrub's eyes was his only show of emotion. Narcissus stared at him steadily. "You do know what 'explode' means, don't you?"
"I said what I said," Sirius confirmed. He pulled Mira up from the bench. "Now that you're feeling better, how about we go see whether Noel remembered to pull your potion off the fire, shall we?" he suggested in English.
"He'd better have." She cracked her knuckles. "I'm already halfway done stitching that custom mask I said I'd give him if he watched me in class." Mira pulled up her bandana, secured it around her face, and marched back to the kitchen. Sirius followed suit, pointedly ignoring the stern and somewhat disapproving look Narcissus was drilling him with. For a guy who'd spent the twelve years slowly losing his sense of reality in a rat-infested hellhole and another few months brainwashed into thinking he was an actual dog, Sirius liked to think he made a pretty damn decent babysitter.
Red hummed a tune he'd learned in primary school to himself as he looked interestedly at the rainbow of powders and pastes and other substances people smeared on their faces. He had a general idea of what the different tubes and pans were, since Aunt Petunia always wanted him to keep her bathroom essentials organized just so, but he'd never seen so many in one place before.
Malfoy, who had been the one to lead him in here, had shrunk with nerves after confidently strolling in and now stuck quietly to Red's side. Red figured the boy had walked right in, expecting to make his usual demands, realized he was in a Muggle shop full of Muggles, and gotten caught in that twisted "vermin/menace" thought-loop of his. The aristocrat looked around at the other customers with fearfully slitted pupils.
The Castle Town Beauty Emporium was a barn-sized stone warehouse where people could buy either premade make-up or grind their own using the bins of materials lined up against one wall of the shop. Stands of brushes, mortars and pestles, what looked like tiny chemistry sets, hair products, and other cosmetics-adjacent things sat in the back. It was kind of like a nicer-smelling, more colorful version of where Harry bought his potion ingredients for school. The customers filling the popular store looked like they came from all ends of the country. A plethora of Hylians, a giggling pack of Gerudo teenagers, and a lone Goron perused the section with browns, yellows, and peach tones, while a pair of Inland Zoras were comparing shades of waterproof blue lipstick in another aisle. There were even some Ritos peering into large bins of reddish powder on the other side of the shop, probably to add to the red tint on their pale feathers.
While Malfoy was distracted by whatever prejudices were firing off in his brain, Red had been leading him down an aisle with make-up in soft tones of blue, green, gold and silver. "Hey, look at this," Red said, picking up a tube of lipstick. The circle of paint on the wooden lid said it was a slightly greenish tint of pale silver, about the same color as Malfoy's Zora freckles. "I've never seen a shade like this back home. I wonder how they make it so shiny."
Malfoy peered at it with genuine interest before a snooty look shuttered over his face. He turned up his nose. "Hmph. Knowing how stupid Muggles are, I'm sure they've put something like aluminum dust in it."
"Mate, it's nineteen ninety-three. Or whatever the Hylian version of that is. The people here have magic cars and computers, and trains way faster than the ones back home. Wizards are still using steam," Red said. "You're even in a shop with powered lights and air-conditioning. I'm pretty sure they've figured out how to make lipstick that doesn't poison you."
"What is 'air-conditioning' and why should it impress me?"
"Air conditioning is why this shop is colder than it is outside, and it's impressive because science," Red said. "Now, are you going to buy some make-up or not? The metallics and lighter Zora colors are over here, the human and Goron colors are in the middle, and the rest of the rainbow is three aisles down. Some of this stuff is labeled with extra add-ons, like being waterproof or staying on all day, but that costs more. Keep in mind I have no idea what the rate of Rupees to Galleons is."
Malfoy gnawed on his lower lip. "A Muggle shop like this really is the only sort of place I can buy make-up here, isn't it?"
"Yup. I mean, it's not like wizard make-up would be any more magical on you anyway. They might even have something enchanted here that would work on your skin." Red gestured toward the chatting Zora couple in the next aisle. "For instance, I'm sure the Zora make-up all has some kind of water-proofing spell on it."
Something occurred to him, and he perked up. "Oh! What if you learned some kind of make-up improving chant so you can use it on the stuff you buy back home? You won't have to worry about the charms breaking then. I wonder if they sell magic scrolls here…" He looked around.
"If they did that, any mage who walked in would be able to start a competing shop themselves," Malfoy said, plucking the lipstick from his hand. "I'll ask Zelda if she knows any such enchantments, or how I might come up with one on my own. She, at least, comes from as proper a magical family as this place has."
"Ohhh, so that's why you aren't an arse to her."
"Why do you always say I'm an arse?" Malfoy complained as he took a mirror out of his pocket. He checked the paint on the lipstick tube against his face. "I have more manners than the lot of you combined. I bet you don't know the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork."
Red put his hands on his hips. "Oh, please. Dinner fork is nearest to the plate on the left and bigger than the salad fork sitting to the outside of it. I've been setting tables on my own since I was five," he said. The Dursleys didn't usually go all out with the silverware, but for business dinners and family visits they liked to impress. "Just because you know how to be fancy, that doesn't mean you know how to be a likeable person. The way you talk to most people, you're usually even ruder than I am."
Malfoy blinked in surprise. "But how? You hardly ever speak properly."
"Acting decent toward other people is more important than knowing big words or having your family tree memorized. An honest 'thank you', 'it's alright', or 'I'm sorry' goes over a lot better than snapping at someone for not being as high-society as you."
The aristocrat made a face. "Phrases like those are concessions. Using them too often with people below your level is a waste of energy, and it makes you sound spineless to anyone worth impressing. Like Yellow—he sounds like he has the confidence of a collapsed soufflé because he's always back-stepping for the sake of others' feelings."
Red narrowed his eyes. "You're lucky Yellow's too nice to kick your arse."
"Him? He wouldn't hurt a fly!" Malfoy moved down the aisle to look at greenish foundation. "Does he even have a temper to lose?"
"Try pissing him off sometime. I double-dog dare you."
Malfoy looked at him over his shoulder. "You're serious, aren't you," he said with disbelief. "Is it all an act, then? All those soft words he uses?"
"No, he's just polite!" Red said with exasperation. "Being nice doesn't mean you're losing the conversation, or whatever you think it is. It's just how you make friends with people who aren't arseholes."
A hard, closed expression came over Malfoy's face. He turned away from Red, his hands curling at his sides. "So that means we must not be friends, then," he said icily.
Some months ago, Red would have taken that as an insult and stormed off. Now he could hear the implied compliment and the lack of confidence under the nasty tone. He walked up and threw his arm over Malfoy's shoulders, startling him. "No, it means I'm enough of an arsehole to deal with your lack of manners," he declared. "And as your friend, I'm telling you that learning to talk nicely to people who aren't as rich or wizardly as you is going to work out a lot better in the long run than being the most pompous git in the room. Isn't it nicer to have friends who like you enough to do stuff for you, rather than rich acquaintances you have to do something for before they'll consider helping?"
"Exchanging favors and leveraging invested resources is just how socializing works, Potter. You can't get something for nothing."
Red raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you owe me a favor for keeping you from making a fool of yourself in front of these Muggles, then? Or does it mean I like you enough that I'd rather you didn't make a terrible impression on the people in town?"
Malfoy didn't respond, his face pinched in conflicted thought.
"Think of it like this: being nice is an investment. It's not like sticking money in a vending machine—it won't mean the person's gonna do whatever you say just because you put enough friendship coins in—but it'll make them more likely to try to make you happy just because it makes them happy. I mean, do you think I'd be your friend if you were still as much of a git as you were last year? Do you think Hermione would even talk to you, let alone help you with figuring this Zora thing out?" Seeing the gears really turning in Malfoy's head, he clapped the Slytherin on the shoulder. "There you go. Think on it. And maybe check out that copper eyeshadow over there, 'cause it would look cool on you."
"What do you mean, you don't want to find him?!" Green demanded of Blue as they walked away from Syrup's market stall. "Link would know way more about this adventuring stuff than we do!"
"Why would he?" Blue asked, stowing away the potions they'd bought. They were four Galleons poorer, but three doses of Fireproof Elixir (the Harrys only needed one for all of them) and three Red Potions richer. Combined with the Red Potions Blue had brewed up at the castle, that brought their total up to seven. Rosmerta hadn't been kidding about how far wizard money stretched here; Hylians seemed to treat gold much like Muggles back home did. "How long has it been since Hyrule was hit by a big attack like this? Have you asked around?"
Green looked puzzled. "No? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Because the sword-kids who save Hyrule don't just spontaneously become legends for nothing. Assuming the Hylian Bestiary isn't just being fanciful, the warriors it talks about are reincarnations of some guardian spirit that protects this place." Blue waved a hand toward the city. "The Heroes step up when destiny calls upon them, they protect the kingdom until they die in battle or of old age, and then they pass the reincarnation baton onto the next sword-kid. Unless Hyrule has suffered a major catastrophe in the last…let's say four years, our doppelganger won't have been called upon yet."
Green frowned. "Why four years?"
"Because Link must be around our age if Maple mistook you for him. Maybe a nine-year-old can save a kingdom, but I'd say that's pushing it."
"Don't you think he'd still have more adventuring experience than us, though? Or sword skills?"
Blue shook his head. "Not necessarily. Until his destiny strikes—and that's assuming he's got luck like ours—why would he be any different from a normal kid? What if he's a homebody? What if he's never had a reason to pick up a sword? Also, he's thirteen, most likely. Assuming he isn't living on his own, his parents or guardians might not want him roaming unsupervised all over the country for no good reason." He tweaked his new glasses, a self-prescribing set they'd bought from a strange shop stocked with the wildest collection of spectacles he'd ever seen. In contrast to those, the Lenses of Truth (which they'd stopped wearing after three people mistook them for a badly disguised Link) looked perfectly pedestrian.
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Green's shoulders slumped. "I just wish getting better at this sword stuff wasn't such slow going. Taking lessons from someone who's basically like us sounds like it would be way easier than book-learning. Is there such a thing as a sword tutor? Because I want one."
"If you hire a sword tutor, you're still going to have to spend a lot of time learning," Blue pointed out. "The difference between using an instruction book and having a person teach you is the quality of muscle-memory and information retention, not time investment."
"There's such a thing as a sword tutor, though? You think so?"
Blue swung his hands toward a passing automobile-chariot. "Green, we're in the middle of a cyber-medieval town full of people dressed like samurai, ninja, and knights. It stands to reason that someone around here is willing to teach people how to swing a sharp metal stick in exchange for money."
"Greeeen!"
Both Blue and Green stiffened in alarm at Yellow's strident cry. Their brother burst from a clump of people and hid behind Green. "There's this ninja guy who keeps asking a lot of questions and he talks really fast and I don't know why he's mad at me—"
Said "ninja guy" came storming up as Yellow described him. He was almost as short as the Harrys, though built in a lanky way that added to his visual height, and had an angular face half-covered by a blue cowl mask that went from his nose to his shoulders. Over his dark blue bodysuit he wore a lighter blue mantle, simple leather chest armor, a kimono jacket hanging open around his waist, a broad leather belt with a bronze eye symbol in the center, and pleated, ankle-length samurai trousers that swung like bells around his legs as he clomped up on his blocky wooden sandals. He was still badgering Yellow as he approached.
"I'll say it again: who and what are you?" the stranger barked. His voice was husky, but loud enough to make Blue steel himself against the sudden urge to retreat. He hated loud people. "Don't hide from me, you little—"
Whatever insult the ninja kid was going to spout was cut off by a gasp as his wide scarlet eyes moved from Yellow to the two identical boys he was tucked behind. Even with bandannas tied around their faces, the multiple Harrys were still unmistakable.
Blue pulled down his mask to give the jerk a proper scowl. "What's your problem?" he snapped in Hylian. "If you want to mess with my brother, you'll have to mess with me first!" He'd have been more eloquent and snide about it, but he was still in the early stages of learning the language. "Who even asks 'what' somebody is? What are you?"
"There's three of you?! How are there three?" the Sheikah boy demanded, ignoring Blue's questions. He stepped even closer, giving them all a suspicious glower. Blue growled and put a hand on his Magic Rod. He was going to blast this guy to kingdom come if he laid a hand on Yellow or Green. He kept an eye on the short sword mounted at the small of the stranger's back, mostly hidden under the drape of the navy blue coat tucked into his waistband. Blue wasn't sure he could beat this kid in a quick-draw, but he'd sure as hell try if it came to it.
"There's four of us, and we're just brothers," Green told the Sheikah. "You've got us confused with someone else."
The stranger's long silver ponytail rippled like a ribbon as he shook his head in disbelief. "But you look exactly like Link! Who are you?!"
"What's it to you?" Blue asked with a sneer. "We've got nothing to do with Link, so," he flipped the boy a one-fingered salute and said in English, "how about you piss off?"
"Blue!" Green and Yellow hissed at him.
"He isn't a teacher or one of the Dursleys, so I don't give a damn what he thinks of me," Blue told them. "If he thinks he can just go around terrorizing my brothers, I don't see the point in paying him any level of courtesy."
"Excuse you, but the way I see it, you're the one walking around with my best friend's face," the Sheikah snarled, standing taller to take advantage of the height difference created by his platform sandals. "Are you out to ruin Link's reputation? Or take his place to steal trade secrets from his sister? You wouldn't be the first. Are you Yiga clansmen in disguise? I bet you're another group of Yiga shadow mages, aren't y—eep!"
His interrogation cut off with a squeak as a similarly-dressed woman lunged out of the crowd and all but tackled him with a one-armed hug. "I told you to be back in an hour and here you are, out picking fights again!" the tall, scary-looking lady scolded, giving the boy trapped in her arm a shake as she spoke. Her voice wasn't nearly as loud as the kid's, but it was deep and sharp.
Green stared up at the Sheikah woman with an expression of openmouthed surprise. It looked like the neurons in his brain had frozen up from shock. Blue had no idea why. The lady was slim and pointy-faced just like the rude kid, so she was probably just his mother.
"I apologize for Avoka's atrocious lack of manners," the woman said, releasing the boy just long enough to muscle his head down in a bow. She bowed as well. "He really ought to know better." She turned a stern glare on her son. "Now come along, child. You have productive things to do." She locked her hand around his bicep and whisked him away toward the northern end of town. The boy twisted in her clutches, still trying to get a look at the Harrys.
"I didn't want him to get in trouble, just stop yelling at me so I could apologize for making him mad," Yellow said, watching guiltily as the boy was dragged off.
"You had no reason to apologize, Yellow, and he deserved getting scolded," Blue sniffed. "If he didn't want to get in trouble, he shouldn't have been so rude to you. I bet his shouting is what helped his mom hunt him down." He turned and poked Green in the cheek. "Why did you lock up? Did the sword say something to you?"
"I've seen that lady before," Green said. His voice was misty and his eyes a little unfocused. "She was…with the princess. One of them. A Zelda. Which…? When…?" His face screwed up in confusion. "How many?"
"Maybe she just looked like whoever you're thinking of," Yellow said. "If we can look like someone we're not related to, so can other people."
"What was her name?" Green asked, still talking to his sword. "No, don't show me pictures. I know you can do words. Wait, that one wasn't a Sheikah. Was she?"
"Does it matter?" Blue asked. As far as he was concerned, there was just some obnoxious, paranoid Sheikah bloke out in the world with a mom who was willing to keep him in line. Unless he had to kick that kid's arse later, Blue didn't feel the need to waste any more brainpower thinking about him. "Let's visit a few more shops to get some armor and potion ingredients and then get back on the road. We still have a dragon to fight today, remember?"
Notes:
-[Further clarification for those who like magic systems] The magical food/potions system in this fic-verse is built upon Breath of the Wild's, but with some tweaks:
1. Animal guts and bones can be used along with creatures for potions.
2. Sleepy Toadstools can work the same as monster parts in a potion.
3. Food will not restore health unless it has a Hearty ingredient, in which case its healing effects are far less than a Red Potion.
4. Stamina and Health Restore effects can be stacked on top of each other.
5. Red Potions are quite powerful and will heal most injuries (this comes from the Oracles games). Blue Potions are for if you need to regrow limbs/organs.
6. Magical healing effects from foods and potions will only work within one hour of the injury. They don't fix infections or cure sicknesses, either.
-The Ravenclaw names dropped in this chapter are all from the Harry Potter wiki. Meanwhile, Avoka gets his name from "Avocado" because I intend to give every Sheikah NPC in this fic-verse a fruit-name if my imagination allows. Impa's last name, "Gingetsu" (as shown in the character art posted for this chapter), translates to "Silver Moon" in English.
-Mainland Ritos in this fic-verse are designed after one of my favorite birds, the Bearded Vulture. A quirk of bearded vultures is that they like to bathe in the reddest dust they can to color their white feathers. Bird make-up!
-Link's destiny won't come calling for another few years, but that doesn't mean he hasn't gone through some weirdness. He is Harry's dimensional echo, after all! As for what his bestie was yelling about and why he was yelling, we'll unpack all that later ;)
-Avoka is wearing a military-casual sort of outfit in this chapter, a mishmash of his Central Kingdom Royal Guard (trainee) sneak-suit and standard uniform. Locals would have recognized the kid as an off-duty apprentice castle guard—essentially a baby Secret Service agent—but the Harrys certainly didn't lol. Avoka's commander, Impa, is wearing the full adult uniform for the same division. (Art showing this can be found on my blog and in the Ao3 version of this chapter)