Un-original Disclaimer:
Hey, guess what!
What?
I don't own it.
Don't own what?
Anything 'cept Holly, Samantha, Eloise, Riley and generic villagers.
Avienne belongs to a friend of mine, as does Severus Jr. and I'm just
borrowing those two from her. All the other stuff is J. K. Rowling's. Oh,
and the crazy mixed up world they're in is mostly mine. Zelda stuff belongs
to Nintendo.
Ok, maybe it wasn't so clear last chapter, but Harry's not at the hospital wing. He's at the Weasleys' house. You'll see how it works.
'Harry, why don't we go into town? Going into town should help you remember, and besides, the rain's stopped, so the roads shouldn't be too muddy...' They wished. The dearly departed storm had other ideas. Hermione had fixed supports like metal stilts to the bottoms of their shoes, but rainwater was still threatening to seep through. "The roads aren't too muddy, are they, Hermione?" Ron said, nearly growling. "It was worse last year," Hermione returned. Harry was beginning to wonder about these storms everyone kept talking about. From what had been said, he could piece together that they comprised large amounts of rain, winds that stopped the activity of civilization in general, and flooding that brought the name 'Noah' to mind. But really, if they came every season, what was the big deal? "Were the storms really so bad last year?" he asked cautiously. "Were they bad?!" replied Ron. "They were worse than bad. Three months of rain and gales and half the dock wrecked?! That's a bit more than bad." "No one can go out during the squalling season," Hermione explained as they plodded their way toward what Harry supposed was the town proper. "The rain, the wind, the flooding. You'd be blown away, washed away or drowned." "What happens when the storms clear?" They walked in silence for a few moments before Hermione sighed slowly and began, "...We come out of our houses and try to rebuild everything we've lost." Harry didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't even begin to understand. The only thing he could figure out was that he was definitely NOT at Hogwarts, and that, whatever these storms were, they significantly disrupted the locals' lives. Sensing Harry's mood, Hermione smiled and changed the subject. "You'll really like the town, Harry. It's the liveliest place around for miles..."
Harry stared around in amazement. Hermione hadn't been lying about the liveliness of the town. There were people everywhere, of all kinds. It was... unbelievable. Harry would have stood there all afternoon had Ron and Hermione not snapped him out of it to follow them through the shopping district. The little shops selling armor and medicine and herbs and imports quickly caught his attention again as well, and it took a few minutes before Ron and Hermione could engage him in conversation again. "The port cities are always the liveliest in the area. Everything that goes to the villages has to go through here first," Ron explained. "Wow... Where are the docks, anyway?" "Past this district, remember? When half the old harbor was wiped out, they moved it over by the shopping district," Ron reminded him. "Right. Sorry," Harry mumbled as they made their way through the gates to the harbor. "Don't worry, you'll have your memory back soon enough. And if it doesn't start getting better on its own, I'm sure Lady Samantha will know what to do," Hermione said comfortingly. Harry sighed quietly. The seagulls and the workers and sailors trying to get the harbor working again comfortably filled the small silence. Ron walked ahead a bit, and stopped, looking at one of the large ships farther down. He squinted a bit, trying to see it better. It was a rich reddish-brown color, made from the flesh of the petriwood trees that comprised the majority of the local forests. The sails appeared normal as well, they looked about as worn as any of the other ships' sails. The thing that had caught Ron's attention was the statue on the forward bow. Where most of the ships had a traditional, benevolent-looking sea-maiden, the last ship proudly displayed a stone wolf, its head turned ninety degrees to the right so that it was looking into the boats trajectory. The bronze lettering on the side was impossible to read from here, but Ron was pretty sure what those letters spelled out. "Oi, Harry, I think the Shadow Wolf is in!" he called over the din of the sailors, merchants and others whose business was here. "Let's go check it out!" Hermione squinted over at the last ship, and Ron took off at a run toward the last ship. "We should follow him. Especially if it really is the Shadow Wolf," Hermione said, a little note of excitement in her voice. Harry hid his puzzlement and dashed off after Hermione. Harry gazed in awe up at the ship, confirmed to be the Shadow Wolf by the bronze lettering on the side. The sails rippled softly in the afternoon breeze as tiny crewmen climbed through the rigging making sure everything was in order. A woman on deck shouted orders to sailors unloading crates while conversing exasperatedly with the harbormaster. "Another storm is less than 24 hours from here, and this is the closest harbor for four days, not to mention we have cargo marked for delivery to this port. I don't suppose the Commerce Guild would be too pleased to hear you've refused to unload their shipment," the woman said coolly. "I've heard another curious rumor. The captain of the Gryffindor owled this morning saying his first mate sighted the Chinese Fireball this morning. Apparently, it was tailing your position." "I knew you were thick, but I didn't know you were that thick. The Chinese Fireball is a legend told to frighten the gullible." "Maybe, but your captain has a knack for attracting trouble. I'd be surprised if it didn't come this time in the form of some plague or pestilence or trade dispute. I'm serious, your captain has become an ill omen around here." "Say what you want, we're still unloading this cargo and waiting out the storm here." The harbormaster sighed, muttered under his breath and marched off to talk with the Commerce Guild representatives. Ron noticed and waved to the woman, whose exasperation faded for a bit, and she waved them over. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, what are you doing here?" she asked. "We were in town and we spotted the Shadow Wolf, so we came over to say hello," Ron explained. "Good afternoon, Ms. Figg," Hermione greeted politely. Ms. Figg smiled. "I suppose you'll want to see the captain then. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, too." Ms. Figg turned and motioned for the three to follow her through the door to a room at the back of the ship. The room itself was like the captain's room from Peter Pan, only there were what appeared to be joke paraphernalia scattered among the books, maps and scrolls on the bookshelves. In addition, a large crimson pillow big enough for a bear to lie on was tucked as inconspicuously as possible in the corner. "Just wait here. I'll go find the captain." Harry took this chance to get a few things straight. "Ron, who's that woman and how do we know her?" "She's Arabella Figg, the first mate of the Shadow Wolf, and we've known her since this ship first started coming here three years ago." "We've known her that long?" "Yeah, and the captain too." "The captain?" "Don't tell me you've forgotten him, too?" Harry nodded sheepishly. "Don't worry, you'll meet him soon. He doesn't purposefully keep people waiting." "That's good, I hope." "Don't worry, I'm sure you two will get along fine." Harry sighed and leaned back on the chair. A large black dog-the captain's, Harry supposed- shifted the large crimson pillow back into the corner and walked over to the desk. Harry glanced over at the huge pillow, then back at the desk and was no small bit surprised to see a man standing where the dog had been. He was tall, with dark blue eyes and black hair that was tied in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a crimson vest over his loose white linen shirt and his dark brown trousers were tucked neatly into his shiny black boots. "...Sirius?!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Harry, Ron, Hermione. Good to see you all again. I hope the storm yesterday didn't cause too much damage." "Everyone and their houses are intact. We survived," Hermione replied. "At least someone has good news. Arabella says the harbormaster thinks I'm a bad omen," Sirius laughed. Harry smiled. No, this was definitely not the world he'd woke up in this morning. The way Sirius was laughing... his eyes were laughing too-the hauntedness that had marked him as a victim of Azkaban was noticeably absent. It was as if he had never been arrested at all. Yet it was sad at the same time. Something about all this was inexplicably wrong. "You should come; Mum's been talking about how much she misses having guests. Come on, Sirius, come back to town with us," Ron suggested, bringing Harry out of his reverie. "Alright, alright, I'll come!" Sirius finally conceded. Sirius turned to Harry as he had been suspiciously quiet the whole time. "...You okay, Harry?" Harry nodded. "I'm fine." "Really?" "Really, I'm fine." Sirius didn't seem to believe him, but dropped the subject anyway. "Well, we should get going then. Don't want to be late for dinner!"
The walk back to the village was better than the walk to the city. The mud had dried up, but not yet turned to dust, and the sun was no longer directly overhead. Harry, Ron and Hermione were also eager to hear stories about thing Sirius had encountered since his last visit before the storm season. The Shadow Wolf was a cargo ship in the fleet belonging to Fawkes & Fawkes Shipping Co. and made semi-regular rounds among the Northern Star Islands and the mainland. Once or twice Sirius had been to the Western Islands, the land of legends, but he said it wasn't all that different from the Northern Star Islands, really, just West instead of North. Mrs. Weasley was, as expected, delighted that Sirius was back in town and visiting them. Bill and Charlie had just come back from hunting, and they had managed to catch an elk in the forest so Mrs. Weasley started it cooking, then joined everyone else over by the fireplace where there was much lobbying to hear a story. Every time Sirius came ashore, he had new stories about the places he'd been and the people he'd met. Sometimes they were just events that proved people had no common sense whatsoever, like the crates with the words "do not turn upside down" on the bottom. Or the time Arabella had walked into a tavern for dinner and noticed that the roasted chestnuts on the menu boasted a caveat: "Warning: contains nuts." Then there were tales of treasure he and his crew had found buried on islands or down on the bottom of the sea. His latest story was by far the best. "You remember they sent me to the Western Islands last summer?" he said. Everyone generally confirmed this. "Well, they sent me back, two weeks ago. That's the last place I went before coming here." The beginnings of a storm were brewing again outside, the soft rain just beginning to tap out its percussion on the roof. No one noticed, and Sirius continued his story. "One of the islands I visited last summer was on my itinerary so Arabella suggested we look around, see what's changed. So we wander around a bit, and eventually we find ourselves outside of town"-the twins, Fred and George, smirked-"and headed into the forest. Neither of us is scared of a little old forest, even if it is dark and spooky and rumored to swallow unwary travelers, so we keep going"-the twins stifled snickers, and Ginny threw them a dirty look-"until we find this clearing that looks like someone just made camp in it and left everything a mess. So we go poking through the tents and we find this piece of parchment that looks like someone's attempt at a map. Well, it turns out it is a map-a treasure map- so we take it back to the ship with us and once we unload our cargo here, we're going to find the treasure." "You found a real, live treasure map?" Harry asked incredulously. "Yeah, but it's written in some unusual characters, so we can't read it," Sirius said sheepishly. "Then how do you know it's a treasure map? How do you know it won't just direct you to the nearest outhouse?" Ron responded. The door opened to admit a very wet man obviously returning from an important journey. Harry squinted a little, trying to see who it was, but his voice was identifiable as soon as he opened his mouth to answer Ron's question. Mr. Weasley took a deep breath and began, "Because there's an extremely disgruntled-looking young lady outside, demanding to see Captain Black, and she's definitely not Arabella Figg."
Ok, maybe it wasn't so clear last chapter, but Harry's not at the hospital wing. He's at the Weasleys' house. You'll see how it works.
'Harry, why don't we go into town? Going into town should help you remember, and besides, the rain's stopped, so the roads shouldn't be too muddy...' They wished. The dearly departed storm had other ideas. Hermione had fixed supports like metal stilts to the bottoms of their shoes, but rainwater was still threatening to seep through. "The roads aren't too muddy, are they, Hermione?" Ron said, nearly growling. "It was worse last year," Hermione returned. Harry was beginning to wonder about these storms everyone kept talking about. From what had been said, he could piece together that they comprised large amounts of rain, winds that stopped the activity of civilization in general, and flooding that brought the name 'Noah' to mind. But really, if they came every season, what was the big deal? "Were the storms really so bad last year?" he asked cautiously. "Were they bad?!" replied Ron. "They were worse than bad. Three months of rain and gales and half the dock wrecked?! That's a bit more than bad." "No one can go out during the squalling season," Hermione explained as they plodded their way toward what Harry supposed was the town proper. "The rain, the wind, the flooding. You'd be blown away, washed away or drowned." "What happens when the storms clear?" They walked in silence for a few moments before Hermione sighed slowly and began, "...We come out of our houses and try to rebuild everything we've lost." Harry didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't even begin to understand. The only thing he could figure out was that he was definitely NOT at Hogwarts, and that, whatever these storms were, they significantly disrupted the locals' lives. Sensing Harry's mood, Hermione smiled and changed the subject. "You'll really like the town, Harry. It's the liveliest place around for miles..."
Harry stared around in amazement. Hermione hadn't been lying about the liveliness of the town. There were people everywhere, of all kinds. It was... unbelievable. Harry would have stood there all afternoon had Ron and Hermione not snapped him out of it to follow them through the shopping district. The little shops selling armor and medicine and herbs and imports quickly caught his attention again as well, and it took a few minutes before Ron and Hermione could engage him in conversation again. "The port cities are always the liveliest in the area. Everything that goes to the villages has to go through here first," Ron explained. "Wow... Where are the docks, anyway?" "Past this district, remember? When half the old harbor was wiped out, they moved it over by the shopping district," Ron reminded him. "Right. Sorry," Harry mumbled as they made their way through the gates to the harbor. "Don't worry, you'll have your memory back soon enough. And if it doesn't start getting better on its own, I'm sure Lady Samantha will know what to do," Hermione said comfortingly. Harry sighed quietly. The seagulls and the workers and sailors trying to get the harbor working again comfortably filled the small silence. Ron walked ahead a bit, and stopped, looking at one of the large ships farther down. He squinted a bit, trying to see it better. It was a rich reddish-brown color, made from the flesh of the petriwood trees that comprised the majority of the local forests. The sails appeared normal as well, they looked about as worn as any of the other ships' sails. The thing that had caught Ron's attention was the statue on the forward bow. Where most of the ships had a traditional, benevolent-looking sea-maiden, the last ship proudly displayed a stone wolf, its head turned ninety degrees to the right so that it was looking into the boats trajectory. The bronze lettering on the side was impossible to read from here, but Ron was pretty sure what those letters spelled out. "Oi, Harry, I think the Shadow Wolf is in!" he called over the din of the sailors, merchants and others whose business was here. "Let's go check it out!" Hermione squinted over at the last ship, and Ron took off at a run toward the last ship. "We should follow him. Especially if it really is the Shadow Wolf," Hermione said, a little note of excitement in her voice. Harry hid his puzzlement and dashed off after Hermione. Harry gazed in awe up at the ship, confirmed to be the Shadow Wolf by the bronze lettering on the side. The sails rippled softly in the afternoon breeze as tiny crewmen climbed through the rigging making sure everything was in order. A woman on deck shouted orders to sailors unloading crates while conversing exasperatedly with the harbormaster. "Another storm is less than 24 hours from here, and this is the closest harbor for four days, not to mention we have cargo marked for delivery to this port. I don't suppose the Commerce Guild would be too pleased to hear you've refused to unload their shipment," the woman said coolly. "I've heard another curious rumor. The captain of the Gryffindor owled this morning saying his first mate sighted the Chinese Fireball this morning. Apparently, it was tailing your position." "I knew you were thick, but I didn't know you were that thick. The Chinese Fireball is a legend told to frighten the gullible." "Maybe, but your captain has a knack for attracting trouble. I'd be surprised if it didn't come this time in the form of some plague or pestilence or trade dispute. I'm serious, your captain has become an ill omen around here." "Say what you want, we're still unloading this cargo and waiting out the storm here." The harbormaster sighed, muttered under his breath and marched off to talk with the Commerce Guild representatives. Ron noticed and waved to the woman, whose exasperation faded for a bit, and she waved them over. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, what are you doing here?" she asked. "We were in town and we spotted the Shadow Wolf, so we came over to say hello," Ron explained. "Good afternoon, Ms. Figg," Hermione greeted politely. Ms. Figg smiled. "I suppose you'll want to see the captain then. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, too." Ms. Figg turned and motioned for the three to follow her through the door to a room at the back of the ship. The room itself was like the captain's room from Peter Pan, only there were what appeared to be joke paraphernalia scattered among the books, maps and scrolls on the bookshelves. In addition, a large crimson pillow big enough for a bear to lie on was tucked as inconspicuously as possible in the corner. "Just wait here. I'll go find the captain." Harry took this chance to get a few things straight. "Ron, who's that woman and how do we know her?" "She's Arabella Figg, the first mate of the Shadow Wolf, and we've known her since this ship first started coming here three years ago." "We've known her that long?" "Yeah, and the captain too." "The captain?" "Don't tell me you've forgotten him, too?" Harry nodded sheepishly. "Don't worry, you'll meet him soon. He doesn't purposefully keep people waiting." "That's good, I hope." "Don't worry, I'm sure you two will get along fine." Harry sighed and leaned back on the chair. A large black dog-the captain's, Harry supposed- shifted the large crimson pillow back into the corner and walked over to the desk. Harry glanced over at the huge pillow, then back at the desk and was no small bit surprised to see a man standing where the dog had been. He was tall, with dark blue eyes and black hair that was tied in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a crimson vest over his loose white linen shirt and his dark brown trousers were tucked neatly into his shiny black boots. "...Sirius?!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Harry, Ron, Hermione. Good to see you all again. I hope the storm yesterday didn't cause too much damage." "Everyone and their houses are intact. We survived," Hermione replied. "At least someone has good news. Arabella says the harbormaster thinks I'm a bad omen," Sirius laughed. Harry smiled. No, this was definitely not the world he'd woke up in this morning. The way Sirius was laughing... his eyes were laughing too-the hauntedness that had marked him as a victim of Azkaban was noticeably absent. It was as if he had never been arrested at all. Yet it was sad at the same time. Something about all this was inexplicably wrong. "You should come; Mum's been talking about how much she misses having guests. Come on, Sirius, come back to town with us," Ron suggested, bringing Harry out of his reverie. "Alright, alright, I'll come!" Sirius finally conceded. Sirius turned to Harry as he had been suspiciously quiet the whole time. "...You okay, Harry?" Harry nodded. "I'm fine." "Really?" "Really, I'm fine." Sirius didn't seem to believe him, but dropped the subject anyway. "Well, we should get going then. Don't want to be late for dinner!"
The walk back to the village was better than the walk to the city. The mud had dried up, but not yet turned to dust, and the sun was no longer directly overhead. Harry, Ron and Hermione were also eager to hear stories about thing Sirius had encountered since his last visit before the storm season. The Shadow Wolf was a cargo ship in the fleet belonging to Fawkes & Fawkes Shipping Co. and made semi-regular rounds among the Northern Star Islands and the mainland. Once or twice Sirius had been to the Western Islands, the land of legends, but he said it wasn't all that different from the Northern Star Islands, really, just West instead of North. Mrs. Weasley was, as expected, delighted that Sirius was back in town and visiting them. Bill and Charlie had just come back from hunting, and they had managed to catch an elk in the forest so Mrs. Weasley started it cooking, then joined everyone else over by the fireplace where there was much lobbying to hear a story. Every time Sirius came ashore, he had new stories about the places he'd been and the people he'd met. Sometimes they were just events that proved people had no common sense whatsoever, like the crates with the words "do not turn upside down" on the bottom. Or the time Arabella had walked into a tavern for dinner and noticed that the roasted chestnuts on the menu boasted a caveat: "Warning: contains nuts." Then there were tales of treasure he and his crew had found buried on islands or down on the bottom of the sea. His latest story was by far the best. "You remember they sent me to the Western Islands last summer?" he said. Everyone generally confirmed this. "Well, they sent me back, two weeks ago. That's the last place I went before coming here." The beginnings of a storm were brewing again outside, the soft rain just beginning to tap out its percussion on the roof. No one noticed, and Sirius continued his story. "One of the islands I visited last summer was on my itinerary so Arabella suggested we look around, see what's changed. So we wander around a bit, and eventually we find ourselves outside of town"-the twins, Fred and George, smirked-"and headed into the forest. Neither of us is scared of a little old forest, even if it is dark and spooky and rumored to swallow unwary travelers, so we keep going"-the twins stifled snickers, and Ginny threw them a dirty look-"until we find this clearing that looks like someone just made camp in it and left everything a mess. So we go poking through the tents and we find this piece of parchment that looks like someone's attempt at a map. Well, it turns out it is a map-a treasure map- so we take it back to the ship with us and once we unload our cargo here, we're going to find the treasure." "You found a real, live treasure map?" Harry asked incredulously. "Yeah, but it's written in some unusual characters, so we can't read it," Sirius said sheepishly. "Then how do you know it's a treasure map? How do you know it won't just direct you to the nearest outhouse?" Ron responded. The door opened to admit a very wet man obviously returning from an important journey. Harry squinted a little, trying to see who it was, but his voice was identifiable as soon as he opened his mouth to answer Ron's question. Mr. Weasley took a deep breath and began, "Because there's an extremely disgruntled-looking young lady outside, demanding to see Captain Black, and she's definitely not Arabella Figg."