Chapter Seven: Jessica's Island
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. A single hammer worked itself against a large, rusty nail on an old wooden dock. The nail protested, but slowly it was convinced to nestle down into the wood.
Jessica paused long enough in wipe the sweat from her eyes before pushing herself to her feet and wandering down along the dock. There. At the very end, Jessica knelt down and began to persuade another nail back into its splintered hole. Eventually, it too conceded. With a long sigh, Jessica began to make her way back to the shore. She was sore and exhausted, but satisfied. It had been a productive day. Her little cottage just up from the beach of this otherwise deserted island was once again free of leaks. She had managed to recaulk her tiny boat and even had time for some work on the dock. Jessica glanced up at the sun. 5 o'clock. Not bad for her age. And they said she couldn't do it alone. What did they know about this 70-year-old woman?
Jessica made her way back up the path to her house. She didn't notice the figure standing in the doorway of the cottage until she was just a few meters away. She stopped in her tracks, alarm and surprise lighting her features. The man had dark hair and stunning green eyes. She guessed he was in his late middle ages and he wore a dark cloak. The kind that Jessica hadn't seen for almost ten years. Which would explain how he had gotten here without a boat.
Jessica frowned. And the day had been going so well, too.
The man blinked. "What's that look for? Are you really that displeased to see me?"
The man's words gave Jessica reason to pause. Her eyes narrowed and she studied the figure more carefully. Then she gasped. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
Harry smiled. "The same." He stepped forward to pull Jessica into a warm hug. When he stepped back, his smile faded and he seemed to be inspecting her. "How are you, Jess?"
Jessica shrugged. "I'm fine. The weather's been mild and fish are biting." Jessica could tell that Harry wasn't satisfied with that answer, but she didn't care. "Please, come inside, I was about to start dinner, but you are welcome to join me."
Harry followed her into the cottage. It was a three bedroom house and rather nice at that, if somewhat bare. The front door opened up into a small living room with a pair of old but well kept loveseats. Pretty much everything in the house was that way - old but well kept. The living room led into two other rooms. One was the kitchen and dinning room. Again, it was small, but clean.
As Harry paused to look around, Jessica began to work through the cupboards. "You are welcome to look around if you like," She offered, and Harry decided to take her up on the offer. He wandered back into the living room and then beyond into the third room. It was the bedroom. The bed was a full and took up almost the entire room. Harry smiled slightly. If Cho died, he didn't think he would be able to sleep in anything smaller than a full, either.
To the side of the bed sat a small bed stand. On top of it were laying some very old looking parchments. Harry wandered over to have a look. Whatever he had thought they might be, he was wrong.
The parchments turned out to be old owl posts. Very old owl posts. As in, something like 30 years old. Flipping through, Harry's breath caught in his throat. These were letters from him, most of them. Some were from Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts. And they were all addressed to Sirius Black.
30 years ago when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. He had been a fugitive and Harry never knew where he had been hiding. His only clue had been the beautiful tropical birds that had delivered Sirius' letters to Harry. Could this have been his hide away? Harry suddenly felt like he was walking on sacred ground. Perhaps Jessica could explain it to him. Gently, Harry set the owl posts down and headed to the kitchen.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. A single hammer worked itself against a large, rusty nail on an old wooden dock. The nail protested, but slowly it was convinced to nestle down into the wood.
Jessica paused long enough in wipe the sweat from her eyes before pushing herself to her feet and wandering down along the dock. There. At the very end, Jessica knelt down and began to persuade another nail back into its splintered hole. Eventually, it too conceded. With a long sigh, Jessica began to make her way back to the shore. She was sore and exhausted, but satisfied. It had been a productive day. Her little cottage just up from the beach of this otherwise deserted island was once again free of leaks. She had managed to recaulk her tiny boat and even had time for some work on the dock. Jessica glanced up at the sun. 5 o'clock. Not bad for her age. And they said she couldn't do it alone. What did they know about this 70-year-old woman?
Jessica made her way back up the path to her house. She didn't notice the figure standing in the doorway of the cottage until she was just a few meters away. She stopped in her tracks, alarm and surprise lighting her features. The man had dark hair and stunning green eyes. She guessed he was in his late middle ages and he wore a dark cloak. The kind that Jessica hadn't seen for almost ten years. Which would explain how he had gotten here without a boat.
Jessica frowned. And the day had been going so well, too.
The man blinked. "What's that look for? Are you really that displeased to see me?"
The man's words gave Jessica reason to pause. Her eyes narrowed and she studied the figure more carefully. Then she gasped. "Harry? Harry Potter?"
Harry smiled. "The same." He stepped forward to pull Jessica into a warm hug. When he stepped back, his smile faded and he seemed to be inspecting her. "How are you, Jess?"
Jessica shrugged. "I'm fine. The weather's been mild and fish are biting." Jessica could tell that Harry wasn't satisfied with that answer, but she didn't care. "Please, come inside, I was about to start dinner, but you are welcome to join me."
Harry followed her into the cottage. It was a three bedroom house and rather nice at that, if somewhat bare. The front door opened up into a small living room with a pair of old but well kept loveseats. Pretty much everything in the house was that way - old but well kept. The living room led into two other rooms. One was the kitchen and dinning room. Again, it was small, but clean.
As Harry paused to look around, Jessica began to work through the cupboards. "You are welcome to look around if you like," She offered, and Harry decided to take her up on the offer. He wandered back into the living room and then beyond into the third room. It was the bedroom. The bed was a full and took up almost the entire room. Harry smiled slightly. If Cho died, he didn't think he would be able to sleep in anything smaller than a full, either.
To the side of the bed sat a small bed stand. On top of it were laying some very old looking parchments. Harry wandered over to have a look. Whatever he had thought they might be, he was wrong.
The parchments turned out to be old owl posts. Very old owl posts. As in, something like 30 years old. Flipping through, Harry's breath caught in his throat. These were letters from him, most of them. Some were from Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts. And they were all addressed to Sirius Black.
30 years ago when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. He had been a fugitive and Harry never knew where he had been hiding. His only clue had been the beautiful tropical birds that had delivered Sirius' letters to Harry. Could this have been his hide away? Harry suddenly felt like he was walking on sacred ground. Perhaps Jessica could explain it to him. Gently, Harry set the owl posts down and headed to the kitchen.
