Harry Potter books, and all characters therein are belong to J. K. Rowling, © 2001/2002 Warner bros. In short, they aren't mine, so please don't sue.
kkisblpeen@aol.com
A/N - I would like to say thanks to my awesome Beta-Reader, Seldes Katne, for putting up with my bad grammar and helping me get through this fanfic quickly and as painlessly as it can be.
Once upon a time
By Kirkis
Chapter Five: Friar Tuck
Albus Dumbledore arrived at the Burrow just as the sun was setting. He'd gotten an urgent owl from the Weasleys that had brought unwelcome news. Harry, along with his two closest friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, as well as the Weasleys' youngest and only daughter Ginny, had disappeared. The letter only said that the entire family had been looking for them, and couldn't find them anywhere. Albus had hastily sent word to Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin to meet him at the Burrow.
His worries had grown deeper as he flew at top speed to the old house on the outskirts of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. He refused to let his anxieties interfere with his better judgment. Losing one's head never solved anything, or saved anyone's life. But even so, he couldn't help but feel that he may already be too late.
He knocked firmly on the door, which opened almost immediately. Molly Weasley stood before him, looking pale, distraught, and holding a handkerchief to her nose.
"Oh, Professor!" she heaved, stepping aside to allow him in. "We're so glad you're here. Arthur is upstairs checking the bedrooms with Mr. Lupin and Mis- Snuffles," she said shakily. "I just can't believe this could happen."
"Do you have any idea how it did happen?" Albus asked, stepping inside. Molly shot a stiff glare at her son, Fred, who lowered his very white face to the floor. The rest of the Weasleys had come into the front hallway.
"Fred let them go up in the attic, alone, and we didn't put as many wards up there," she said, unable to choke back tears. She sobbed and leaned her head against her oldest son's shoulder. Bill put his arm around her, and looked up at Albus.
"They asked Fred to put the Ghoul in the trunk up there, he didn't know we hadn't put as many wards on the attic," said Bill in a somber tone.
"Show me to the attic please, Fred," said Albus. Fred looked up at him with uncharacteristic fear in his eyes, but nodded and headed up the stairs. As they passed the third floor landing, Albus noticed a door standing open. Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin and a large black dog Albus recognized as Sirius Black were looking about in the room. On the fifth floor landing, a door with a small plaque on it that read "Ronald's Room" stood ajar. Beside it there was a large open archway, with a staircase just inside it.
"It's up here," said Fred, his voice sounded hollow. He turned to head back down the stairs.
"Fred, if you will accompany me," said Albus. Fred turned around looking horror struck. "It's all right," Albus added seeing the look on Fred's face. "I believe your brother is right, you had no way of knowing that the wards were thinner in the attic. Come now, if we are to find your brother and sister and their friends, I'll need your help."
Fred made a slow nod and headed up the stairs into the attic. The Weasleys' attic was enlarged to nearly twice the size of the house. There seemed to be quite a few Muggle artifacts hanging around up there. Some looked quite illegal. There was also a great Weather Globe in the center of the room. It looked very old, and if not for the large crack running from Greenland to Mexico, it might've been worth a fortune. Albus raised his wand, and muttered the necessary words. A thin wave of white light spread out from the tip of his wand. If there had been any strong magic used in the attic, the wave would bounce back and turn blue.
The wave poured over all surfaces in the attic and blue suddenly resonated from the vicinity of a stack of books. Albus headed in that direction.
"They came up here to look for some old books," said Fred.
"You shouldn't have let them up here either, Fred," huffed Percy Weasley, who had just come up into the attic. He turned toward Albus and spoke in a business like manner, as if they were searching for a lost cooking utensil. "I searched the attic already," he said proudly. "I didn't find anything out of the ordinary."
"Percy, I believe your brother is being hard enough on himself without having you to help him at it," said Albus, gazing at Percy. The once-Head Boy of Hogwarts had grown farther away from his family in recent weeks, but when it came down to it, he still cared about them. He, too, is so young, Albus thought, before proceeding with his search. "Did you move anything, Percy, even the slightest bit?" said Albus, looking down at Percy from over his half moon spectacles.
"No, sir," said Percy, but then he suddenly turned toward one of the stacks. "Actually, yes, I nearly tripped over that book. It was in the middle of the floor." He pointed toward a book on top of one of the stacks. Albus headed straight for it and reached down to pick it up.
"The Tale of Robin Hood…" Albus read aloud. He pulled the cover open and was suddenly immersed in a brilliant white light pouring out of the book. The floor tilted violently toward the book, and he knew right off what it must be. He raised his head sharply toward Fred and Percy, hoping there was still time.
"No one is to open this book again!" he said as quickly as he could, fighting to keep his balance. Finally, he was pulled head first into the book.
Harry awoke much earlier on the day after the banquet than he had the first day. He sat up and felt a sharp sting in his shoulder. It was still sore from the cut he'd gotten the night before. His memories of the previous night were a blur. He sat there quietly taking in the forest all around him and the sounds it made in the early dawn. Trees creaking in the breeze, leaves rustling, birds chirping, a woodpecker hard at work, and a faint murmur of people from down below. The smell of sausages and bread was growing stronger by the minute.
Harry sat unmoving, with one hand resting on his bandaged shoulder, wondering what time it was. His watch, like his wand and clothes, was missing, but oddly enough, he still had his glasses. Beside him, Ron stirred, groaned and sat up sleepily.
"'Orning 'Arry," Ron said thickly through a yawn.
"Morning," Harry replied. Ron pulled himself to his feet and lumbered over to the corner to the chamber pot, while Harry took this opportunity to stretch his legs on the balcony. Will was heading across one of the catwalks toward their treehouse.
"Is Robin awake?" he asked as he stepped off the catwalk onto the balcony.
"Yeah," answered Harry looking cautiously back into the hut. Ron was rummaging through the drawers again, apparently searching for a pair of trousers he may have overlooked the other day. Will followed Harry back into the hut.
"You sure you can't find any trousers? I hate these tights!" said Ron, throwing the tights down on the floor.
"Sorry," Will said sheepishly. "A man showed up about an hour ago asking for you, Robin," he added.
Ron's eyes shifted straight to Harry, but when he spoke it was to Will. "Did he give you his name?" Ron asked, pulling on his green shirt.
"Says his name is, er… well, I can't remember the name, but he said he was a Friar. Didn't look like any friar I've ever laid eyes on. Had hair down past his belt," said Will, gesturing with his hands to indicate a long beard.
"Friar Tuck?" asked Harry.
"Yeah, that's what he said his name was. You know him?" asked Will.
"I know of him," Harry replied, standing up and looking around for his green shirt.
"Oh yeah, Mrs. Little took your shirt to wash and mend, you'll have to wear one of the older ones," said Will, pointing to a half open drawer full of dingy white shirts. "I'll wait for you two down at the Meeting Hall," he added, and headed out the door and across the catwalk. Ron ginned at Harry.
Mrs. Little?" he said.
"Shut up," said Harry coolly.
"So, who's Friar Tuck?" asked Ron.
"He's a traveling friar, and after a little persuasion, he joins Robin's cause," said Harry. "So, we'd better hurry up and get down there."
After Ron gave up his second search for something less embarrassing than tights, he and Harry headed down to the Meeting Hall. Aside from meeting Friar Tuck, they also wanted to get an early breakfast.
"I just wonder what he meant by the guy not looking like any Friar he's ever seen," Harry said as they headed down the sloping hill toward the Meeting Hall.
"Having hair down past his belt, sounds a bit like Dumbledore," said Ron as they came around the open end of the Meeting Hall and came face to face with Friar Tuck. Their jaws dropped.
"P-Professor Dumbledore?!" they both stuttered. Professor Dumbledore, dressed in plain brown robes and carrying a long wooden staff stood beaming at them.
"Yes, I was once called Professor Dumbledore," he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "But now I am called Friar Tuck."
"Professor, how-" Harry started.
"Which one of you is Robin Hood?" asked Dumbledore. After a moment of hesitation, Ron stepped forward.
"I am," he said, "I know it ought to be Harry," he added quickly. Harry didn't agree. Secretly, he had been more than happy that Ron was playing the hero of the story. Maybe he'd figure out it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
"Not necessarily, Ronald, excuse me, Robin," Dumbledore interrupted. "And I can assume that you're portraying John Little?" he asked Harry, who nodded.
"First and foremost, I think it would be best to speak as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Albus Dumbledore," said Dumbledore, pulling out a chair. "And some breakfast would also be welcome."
Harry and Ron spent the better part of the morning with Dumbledore discussing what had taken place over the last few days. They told him how they went up in the attic at the Burrow to look through some old books, how Hermione had found an old book and gotten sucked into it, and how they'd followed her in. They told him how she and Ginny were in Nottingham castle, and that they, too, were playing parts.
Fortunately, Dumbledore was well versed in this particular Muggle story, though he did say that there were many versions of it, each one varying subtly from the next. The most common parts of the story, the parts that ended up in most adaptations, were the Archery Tournament, the duel between Robin and the lead villain (Prince John, Sir Guy, or the Sheriff) and the wedding of Robin and Marion at the end of the story. (Ron went pale at this point and stared blankly at his plate.)
Dumbledore also agreed that playing through the story was probably the best option they had since none of them had their wands anyway. Ron couldn't see how they were going to be able to get through the story without any sort of magic. Sword fighting and archery just weren't as useful defenses as having a wand by your side. Even though Harry agreed with Ron on that point, it didn't make any difference since the only defenses they had were swords and bows.
Having been supplied with the official date of the Archery Tournament, (in one week's time) Dumbledore suggested that Harry and Ron practice up on their Muggle-style defenses. Harry knew he needed to work on his sword fighting abilities and, even though his shoulder still stung when he moved it, he set to practicing with Bull, one of the Merry Men. Dumbledore convinced Ron to practice his skills with a bow, partly because he had fared much better with swordplay, and partly because he was playing Robin Hood. He grudgingly agreed to the archery lessons.
The week seemed to fly by. They were dragged out of bed at sunrise every day and worked till after sunset that evening. Harry had taken well to his practice, though he wasn't too keen on taking all of Will's advice; he doubted he could really stab someone, even if it was probably a fictional character in a magical book. Ron, however, hadn't done as well with his training. He rarely hit the target and complained loudly that it would be easier if he could "drop the stupid bow and just chuck the arrow at the target!" But by the afternoon before the Archery Tournament he was consistently hitting the target, though he wasn't getting close to the center.
As afternoon faded into evening, Harry and Ron headed down to the Meeting Hall for dinner, as they had done every day that week. They met Dumbledore at the entrance and sat with him at one of the two long tables. Harry had gotten used to the dishes being brought out to the tables. As there was no magic in this world, naturally there were no golden plates where food could simply appear, or any house-elves to make the food for that matter. All the food was prepared by five rather large women.
As dinner was brought out, Harry noticed his appetite wasn't as strong tonight as it had been for the past few days. He supposed it was nerves. Ron also seemed to have a weaker appetite tonight, he looked at the approaching roast boar with a somewhat queasy look on his face.
"I suppose it is pointless to suggest that the two of you eat?" said Dumbledore, looking up from his empty plate. Ron looked up momentarily as if he wanted to ask something, but instead, he tilted his face back downward to his plate and pushed around the small amounts of food there. "A concern, Robin?" asked Dumbledore; he had insisted on using their story names. Ron looked back up and thought for a moment before he spoke.
"Why do I even have to compete?" he asked bluntly. "I mean, if we only need to rescue Maid Marion, why should I have to compete in the tournament at all?" It did seem like a logical question. What was the point of competing? They could go in, crash the tournament, grab Hermione and Ginny and make a run for it without changing the overall story.
"You're forgetting three things, Robin," said Dumbledore. "First, Robin Hood is a particularly brazen Hero. He borders on arrogance at some times. Competing in the tournament is another means for him to scoff at Nottingham and at Prince John. It is a matter of pride. Second, none of the Merry Men are supposed to know the Tournament is a trap. They may suspect, but they have no way of knowing. And third, almost every version of this story states that Robin Hood competes in the Archery Tournament and wins. I'm not certain the story will progress otherwise," said Dumbledore. Ron looked aghast and spoke up loudly, causing a few Merry Men to look their way.
"You mean I have to win!? I just thought-"
"You may have to win, Robin," said Dumbledore slowly. "Almost every version of Robin Hood I've ever encountered which includes the banquet scene, ends the scene with Robin felling all the guards and leaving Nottingham castle one-up on the villain. Your unorthodox exit of Nottingham castle would seem to suggest that the book encourages the plot even when events do not generally follow it. So, it may be possible for you to lose and still continue without interfering with the plot. We cannot be certain, of course. I would suggest that you do your best tomorrow and try to win, in case the plot cannot advance without Robin winning the Tournament. It may also be wise to have a backup plan if you fail to win," he finished. Ron still looked a little pale as he shifted his gaze back to his plate. Harry thought for a moment.
"If Dumbledore's right," Ron said. He seemed to be thinking out loud. "About the book adjusting so the plot will still fit, if I lost…" he trailed off and Harry picked up from there.
"Robin isn't supposed to know it's a trap," he said. "So, Prince John and Sir Guy aren't supposed to know which contestant is Robin …until he wins." It suddenly dawned on him. "So they'll think whoever wins is Robin and go after him!"
"Leaving us free to rescue Marion and whichever part Miss Weasley is playing," Dumbledore concluded.
"The backup plan sounds more solid than the main one," said Ron. Harry thought that was very true. It seemed far less logical to try to win, and have the guards jump Ron, than to let someone else win, have the guards jump on him and rescue Hermione and Ginny amid the din. Harry wondered what could happen that might interfere with the plot if Ron lost.
"What could go wrong with the plot if he doesn't win?" Harry asked Dumbledore. He appeared to take a moment to think before he answered.
"If the plot required Robin to escape without Maid Marion, as some versions do, then removing her from Nottingham would directly interfere with the plot laid down in this book," he finished. "Which is why it is important to attempt to follow the story as closely as possible."
"So I do have to win tomorrow," said Ron.
"Just do your best, Ronald. As you've said, the back-up plan appears to be more solid than the primary plan. If you should fail to win, we will switch to the back-up plan," said Dumbledore.
"So, what's the back-up plan?" asked Harry taking a bite out of his potato.
By the time dinner was finished, they'd all agreed on both a plan and a backup plan. The primary plan was for Ron to win the tournament, and let the guards take him. Harry, Dumbledore, Will, and some of the other Merry Men would ride in to his rescue, and at the same time, try to rescue Hermione and Ginny. Then they would make their escape to Sherwood, before the final confrontation. The backup plan, which Harry and Ron both thought was more sound, was for Ron to lose and let Prince John and Sir Guy and his guards nab the wrong man. They'd figure it out sooner or later, but it would give Harry and Ron time to sneak back to Sherwood with Hermione and Ginny.
The problem was, both plans needed Hermione and Ginny to know what was going on, and the latter required them to know when to sneak out of the presence of Sir Guy and Prince John. It was agreed that while Ron was competing, Dumbledore would find Hermione and Ginny. Most likely they would be in the Royal box with Prince John, Sir Guy and the Sheriff of Nottingham. Posing as an old colleague of Ginny's, he could give them the necessary information and, at the right moment, sneak them out from under Sir Guy, Prince John and the Sheriff's noses.
So Harry and Ron headed up to their tree-house room with full heads if not full stomachs. The next day would be rough, and long. They settled in to their makeshift beds, blew out the candles lighting the room and said their goodnights. It was a while before Harry fell asleep, hoping that things would go well tomorrow.
To be continued…