Chapter 3:
Journeys and Journeyers
From the journal of Draco Aidan Marcus Augustus Malfoy:
July 7, 1995
Grand-mére and Mother came to see me off. I said goodbyes to my friends last week. Mother cried, made me promise to write once a week. I wish she wouldn't carry on like that, though. Grand-mére said that she might visit the island – apparently she and Kenoji are old friends. These past two weeks just flew by. I've been trying to find out why I had to leave so early.
The door to his cabin opened without so much as a knock and a boy about his age entered. "Hi. I'm Tanner Long; we've got our other passenger, and we launch in ten minutes. Matthias said to tell you that supper's in fifteen minutes. I'd offer you a tour, but there's not a whole to see. We don't exactly do bulk service."
Draco looked him over. He was tall, lanky and moved gracefully in spite of how he seemed to have extra joints and hadn't quite grown into his height. His hair was brown and shaggy and his blue eyes stared out between his bangs. "Hi. Just two passengers? I thought there'd be more people. It's kind of big boat for four people."
"Six people, actually. Two more members of the crew. Most of the students come when their powers start to flare and stay on the island until they've got it under control; usually three or four years. Our second passenger is actually one of the teachers. Taka left him here when she took her sisters back to the island."
"Master Santirez?"
"Ah, so you've met him already. That makes life easier, at least for you. He'll be working with you on meditation. That won't start until after supper, though. You'll meet our navigator and our cook at supper. The students that do leave usually do short-service; they're taken Honolulu and take a flight or floo home from there. Most simply do not have the patience for a one to four month trip home. Want the tour anyway?"
Draco faltered a bit at the abrupt change of topic, then shrugged. "Sure."
Tanner led him out of his cabin. "The cabin right behind you is Peregrine's and the ones further behind that and on the other side of the hall belong to the crew." Up a flight of stairs he turned right. "This is navigation, and the galley and dining room are over there." Backtracking, he headed left at the top the stairs, where a short hallway and three short steps led to the deck. Another flight of stairs led up to a cabin that was mostly window. "The cabin up there is the weather deck; it's where Matthias can see to give direct the ship. During storms, of course, we have to depend on the navigation – we've got most of the most recent technology there. It sometimes gets interference – we rely on satellites to obtain the information and storms create interference with the wifi. But it's a lot better than going at it with just the weather deck, and a lot less dangerous; during storms you can't see far enough to steer properly."
He broke off abruptly. "We'd better get down to the dining room. Supper's on." They turned and walked back to the dining room, running into Master Santirez on the way.
"Peregrine." Tanner acknowledged the teacher with a nod as he stepped back to make more room in the cramped hallway.
"Tanner. Boy." Peregrine Santirez was just as Draco remembered him, although his grey hair was messier. He gestured for them to pass him, and touched Draco's shoulder as he passed. "Stay in the dining room after supper; we'll start our meditation afterwards."
Entering the dining room he saw Captain Morgan and a huge black man putting food on the table. "Captain," he said by way of greeting.
The thin old man turned and grinned. "Peregrine, Tanner. Hatchling, hallo. Have you met Zebedee? No, of course you haven't, he's been busy. Zeb, this is Draco Malfoy; Hatchling, this is Zebedee Wackett. He's our cook and chief lookout. Luck, our navigator, won't be here; she's got the wheel for the next little bit."
As they all sat down, Draco looked over to the captain in surprise. "Luck? Is that her real name?"
"Is Draco your real name?" Tanner replied. "Yes, Luck is her given name. I wouldn't mention that to her, by the way. She's a bit touchy."
After that, supper passed swiftly and soon Draco was alone with Santirez. "Now, boy, I've been given to understand that you know the basics of meditation."
He eyed the teacher and responded with an indolent, "Yes, Master Santirez."
Santirez' bushy eyebrows snapped together. "I'll have none of that attitude. 'Yes, sir' is sufficient – 'Yes, Master Santirez' is a waste of words and time. And those are two things I avoid wasting if at all possible. When you work with me, you will keep your attitude or negative emotions in check. You can stop to talk about negative emotions to me or any one of the crew, but when we meditate you keep them under wraps. They'll eat you alive otherwise. I can protect you to a certain extent but you know the most about what it is you face up here." He tapped his temple twice.
"Now, we'll start with what you know and move on from there. We'll try different ways of meditation and settle into what works best. We usually use candles, but on the ship we abstain for safety reasons. So, what do you know?"
Draco considered the teacher in a new light. Master Santirez was beginning to remind him of McGonagall – stern and in control. "My father taught me meditation through basic count breathing. That's really all we did with it."
"Hmm. Well, tonight we'll stick with that, just keep it simple. Tomorrow, on the other hand, you learn to work. We meditate twice a day, before breakfast and again after supper. If your power starts to fluctuate we'll add a third session to stabilize things.
"Now, are you comfortable? Good. Close your eyes and relax into your position. I want you to focus on my voice and on the instructions I give you. Breathe in, two, three, four; breathe out, two, three, four. Breathe in, two, three, four; breathe out, two, three, four. Breathe in, two, three, four; breathe out, two, three, four." Slowly, the teacher's voice faded as Draco reached the empty place in his mind where he could just be.
He couldn't say how much longer he remained in that place, before he heard Santirez saying, "And now you're coming out, breathe out, two, three, four, breathe in, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four, breathe in, two, three, four." Five more four counts and Draco was back in the here and the now, and slightly disoriented.
"Well, I am impressed. I don't think you'll have much trouble moving into more complicated meditation practices. Your time is your own for the rest of the night. Our morning meditation session starts at seven, breakfast at eight-thirty. You will have chores – keeping your cabin in order, helping Zeb in the galley, learning to help Luck over in navigation, working with Tanner on deck. On deck, you'll learn to help with the rigging and act as lookout on the weather deck."
He paused in his monologue to study the boy. "You might want to go get sleep relatively soon. Before you do, however…" he turned round and rummaged in something behind him. He turned back round and handed Draco a cloth satchel. "To keep your journal and writing materials and whatever bits and pieces you use with you.
"Good night." Santirez rose abruptly and left the room.
July 14, 1995:
The past week has flown by. I'm slowly learning to do all sorts of odd jobs around the ship. I'm also learning all sorts of odd things about the people on the ship.
Santirez isn't as gruff as he pretends to be. He's brusque, and he has no tolerance for fooling around, but he's patient. He's perhaps the most normal thing on this boat. Which isn't saying much, considering his competition. Santirez is focused and patient, while the crew is just…odd.
Captain Morgan looks to be about one hundred and sixty. He's the thin sort of elderly gentleman that usually gets described as spry. He has seemingly boundless energy and gives the impression of always laughing at some private joke. He's a bit of a chatterbox; he always calls me hatchling, I don't know why. It irritates, but so far all my demands that he stop have been laughed off or ignored.
Our cook, Zeb, is over six feet tall and very intimidating; particularly if one is sitting down. He's mute, but still manages to get himself understood. He uses some sign language, but the crew and Santirez seem to understand him without it.
Luck Johnson is our navigator. The first question I asked was: 'Is Luck her real name?'. Silly, I suppose, but it's not a name you come across usually. Luck's tiny, barely topping five feet, and a little neurotic. If she wasn't so pessimistic, I'd call her hyperactive, a lá Lavender Brown. Although she's thankfully not giggly. I've yet to see her sit still for more than five minutes at a time. She always has to be doing something.
Tanner Long is the enigma on this boat; the one who just doesn't seem to fit. He fits in with the people but not really with what he is – that is, he gets along fine with the crew and the passengers – but he doesn't have a particularly defined role in this ragtag bunch. He can usually be found with Luck in navigation, staring over her shoulder and making unhelpful comments until she threatens to throw him overboard. At that point, he usually goes and haunts Zeb in the galley.
This collection of misfits, these muggles has either caught me off-guard or seriously messed with my mind, because I can no longer believe that they are the inferior beings I have been told they were. I know that these people are so much more than they seem to be, not just because they fit with one another, but because I somehow know that whatever happens, they will persevere. They will not give in until an answer presents itself and they will never betray their own convictions. They are solid and content in the knowledge of who and what they are. And I wonder, will I ever have that knowledge?
I can't help but like these people, even though it's against what I've always taught. I also know that I should avoid telling my father about that; he wouldn't approve. He'd try to take them away, to punish them for my weakness. I wonder if there's a spell I can use that will keep the contents of this journal private?
July 17, 2006
The days are passing quickly, in a state of comfortable monotony. Master Santirez keeps to himself, except for meals, and our sessions. He appears to be working on something.
The crew keeps me occupied. They don't seem to believe in silence; there is always laughter and sarcasm in equal amounts, but no silence. There is always music blaring, or someone singing, or Tanner trying to play Tarzan on the rigging.
"Dragón!" The shout came from above him. He looked up to see Luck leaning over the rail, her short blond bob falling over her eyes. "Come up. It's going to rain, and you don't want to get your book wet, do you? Besides, it'll keep you away from kitchen duty..."
"Well, when you put it like that..." Draco gathered up his things, stuffing them into the satchel Master Santirez had given him. He ducked into the covered hallway that held the sleeping cabins and the stairs to the cockpit.
When he reached navigation, Luck was once again sitting in her chair, checking the radar printouts. "Having fun yet?"
"I suppose." He shrugged and settled onto the floor setting his satchel down and drawing the journal out again. He hadn't written more than three words when Luck interrupted him again.
"What're you writing?"
"My journal. You guys don't believe in being quiet, do you?"
Luck's sharp, light laughter rang in his ears. "We may not be quiet, but at least we're predictable."
Draco looked up from the page then. The crew? Predictable? The idea was so ludicrous that he nearly laughed along with her. "Predictable? How do you figure?"
"You can always count on us to be loud and crazy, no? We don't do boring. Or bored, for that matter."
"Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored." Draco and Luck looked up as Tanner skipped into the room.
He turned to Luck and smirked. "Oh, you don't, do you?"
Tanner stopped and looked back and forth between them. "Don't? Don't what? Luck?"
Luck, being Luck, ignored Tanner. She shrugged indifferently as she answered Draco. "Meh. Two out of three 'taint bad. Besides, Tanner doesn't count. He's always bored."
"I am not! What are you guys talking about anyway?"
"Oh, this and that. Did Zeb kick you out of the galley?"
"Why is it that you always assume that just because I'm not where I'm supposed to be that someone kicked me out?"
"Straight on your bum, loco. Good for him." Luck's voice was tinged with satisfaction, and she was sporting a smug smile.
"Luck! You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I like my side better. More fun."
Draco watched the exchange with a smirk on his face. The two of them were better entertainment than Weasley and Potter. Providing, of course, that Weasley and Potter did anything that held any entertainment value. He leaned back to enjoy the show. This might be more fun than he thought—Tanner was turning purple.
July 21, 1995
Nothing much has been happening. Just after we left the re-filling station at Buenos Aires, Argentina, a couple dolphins started following the ship. By the time we circled the cape, we had a whole pod. Yesterday at sunset, Matthias stopped the boat so they could fish and so Tanner and Luck could go swim with the dolphins. They asked me to go with them, but I didn't. It seemed safer to stay on the boat. Luck taught me how to maintain and watch the radar signals for subs and rocks, so I stayed in the cockpit with Matthias to keep and eye on the equipment.
We're still anchored, I'm not sure why.
Three quick, light taps on his cabin door interrupted him.
"It's open," he called.
Luck strolled in, Tanner right behind her grinning like a maniac. "All right, Dragón. Out on deck."
Draco glanced at the clock beside the bed, then out the porthole to confirm. "Luck, it's the middle of the night."
"Best time for it. Come on now, don't dawdle." She moved forward to take Draco's arm and guide him out of the cabin and into the hallway.
"I don't even have my shoes on!" He tried to move backwards only to discover that Tanner had stepped into place behind him. "Guys!"
"Sorry, man. She's calling the shots on this one. I'm just along for the ride. As for shoes, you can borrow mine." Tanner replied, his grin not diminishing at all. "Don't worry, we'll keep you out of trouble."
As they reached the deck, Draco say that the diving deck was still up. "Did the part about me not wanting to go for a swim not register with you two?"
"It did," Luck replied. "But I'd like to see how well you can swim and how well you interact with the dolphins. We don't need to worry about sharks or other predators here and its protected from the worst of the waves which makes it the perfect place to swim. So…off with your shirt. You can keep the slacks on or off as is your preference, since you're not allowed to drown. Tanner'll be in the water with you. Just so you know, we don't weigh anchor until you do this."
"Is all the stuff around Institute non-negotiable? Or do I just seem to be getting handing all the high-handed attitude?"
Tanner snickered. "No, it isn't just you or even them. There are entire programs in the Institute that are negotiable."
"Checking your ability to swim is for your safety; it tells us the areas you can pitch in if we hit a rough patch of weather. And we are going to hit rough weather. It's just lucky for all of us that you don't get seasick."
Draco measured her response. "Did you ever have to do any of this, when you started at the Institute?"
She shook her head in negative before replying, "I was born in San Sabastien, less than two miles away from the Institute. I could swim before I could walk – I still can swim better than I can walk. My mother was from one of the families that originally settled the island; my father was a dolphin shapeshifter. I received all of my education at the Institute."
He filed the information away, then removed his shirt and slipped into the water. He gave a small yelp when he hit the water – that was cold. "I thought water was supposed to get warmer the further south you went."
Tanner gave a bark of laughter that quickly turned into a yelp as he followed Draco into the water. "We're closer to Antarctica than the equator, I'm afraid. Makes the water a bit…nippy. It much warmer by the island."
Draco treaded water for a couple minutes to allow his body to get adjusted to the temperature, then looked up at Luck. "Now what?"
"Now you swim to the bow and back. After that, once one of the dolphins approaches you, put your hand on their fin and let them tug you around the boat." Luck explained. "That's really all this is. Take off when ready."
Draco eyed the stretch of water by the boat with trepidation before he took off. He was grateful that the dolphins, who were gathering by the swim deck, gave him a moment to tread water before approaching him. The swim against the small waves was tiring. He was pleasantly surprised with the encounter with the dolphin; the way it swam round him in a circle once before bobbing gently beside him.
Once they made it back to the swim deck, Tanner was already playing with some of the pod. It seemed to Draco the natural to do was join them. He didn't realize Luck had intended to go with them until she dived over the side. One of the dolphins followed her under, and to Draco's amazement, pushed her up out of the water by her feet. The three of them continued to play with the dolphins until they started to shiver.
While they were overboard, someone had come and left out towels, heavy terry-cloth robes and deck shoes for all three of them. They rubbed their limbs dry and bundled themselves in the robes. They headed inside to the galley for a cup of hot cocoa and found Santirez already there, writing in a notebook.
As Draco turned in, he wondered if these people knew the effects they had on other people. He should have felt embarrassed or angry. It shouldn't have felt…natural. He said to himself as he drifted off to sleep, 'It's just these people, this set of muggles. There are exceptions to every rule; they're the exception in theirs.'