Chapter 19. Monday December 2. Early Morning. Brick-Brack Alley

After Apparating with Snape, Harry re-appeared with him on a raised round platform made of stone blocks, perhaps about 10 feet in diameter, and 5 feet high. There was a sign post in the center of it reading "Brick-Brack Alley Apparation Platform", and carefully painted runes around the edges. Harry studied the runes as he tried to clear his head, and recognized them as being the inverse of various wards used to prevent apparating, such as the ones around Hogwarts. So they were mean to facilitate apparating, then? But to what purpose? Why apparate to this one particular spot, rather than wherever one chose?

Harry looked up slightly, at the street a few feet away from the Apparation Platform, and began to understand. Despite the ungodly early hour, there was a great deal of traffic. Wagons and large basket carrying broomsticks full of crates, barrels, and other containers were hurrying rapidly up and down a cobblestone avenue, well lit by large Lumos crystals mounted on poles. If one were to merely apparate in the middle of the street, you would likely be run down. Looking around further, Harry saw that on either side of the street were large ugly buildings. They did not resemble muggle buildings, but neither did they resemble the quaint, elegant, or spooky wizarding buildings Harry was familiar with. They looked almost like muggle factory buildings Harry had seen in London when on trips across town with the Dursleys, but made out of different materials. Rather than cement blocks and sheet metal such as muggles would use, they were made from stone, brick, adobe, and wooden planks and logs. They resembled industrial buildings of a few centuries ago, more than anything else. And at the far end of Brick-Brack Alley, a well lighted building which most of the traffic was centered around resembled nothing Harry had ever seen before, as it appeared to be made out of large, irregular shaped chunks of multi-colored glass.

From the height of the Apparation Platform, Harry could see the familiar outline of the shops on Diagon and Knockturn Alley's. He had never seen them from the rear, before, and it took him several moments to recognize the stores. There was Olivander's wand shop, Gringott's bank, the Owl Emporium, and all the other familiar places. Then something odd struck him. He turned to Snape.

"How come I never noticed this place before?" Harry asked. "The buildings here are tall enough, I ought to have been able to see them from Diagon Alley."

Snape shook his head. "There's a disillusionment charm surrounding this whole district, Potter. Most wizards don't care to see Brick-Brack Alley, unless they have business or work here. Now stop gaping at the dragon leather tannery and come on."

He followed Snape down a flight of steps that led off the Apparation Platform, and past the first building, which Harry judged was the tannery Snape had mentioned, if the horrible stench coming from it was any clue.

"Ugh." He complained. "Why don't they use deodorizing wards?"

Snape gave him a patronising look. "They are using deodorizing wards, Potter. Otherwise the smell would be much worse. As, in fact, it is inside the building."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the building. "I'm glad I don't have to work there. I feel mighty sorry for whoever does. I don't see why anyone should have to put up with that."

Snape's look became even more condescending. "I suggest you be glad, Potter, that some wizards are willing to put up with it. Otherwise you would not have any dragonhide gloves for handling hot cauldrons in Potion's class, and no doubt would have burned yourself quite badly several times."

Harry said nothing, but continued to look around at the buildings. One smallish building had a large fenced in area around it filled with bundles of thick staves and bales of straw. Faded painted letters on the wooden side of the building declared that it was the 'Cleansweep Broomstick Fabricators'.

So that was where broomsticks came from, Harry thought. He'd never really considered it before. He had had a sort of mental image in his head of an elderly wizard carefully carving the shaft of his beloved broomstick in a cozy workroom, carefully selecting just the right straws to bind to it. But now that he thought of it, such an idea was obviously utter nonsense. There were far too many wizards who wanted to buy far too many broomsticks. One craftsman working by himself would never have been able to fill the demand.

Most of the buildings were darkened, but a few had lights on, and through the windows, Harry could see wizards working, or loading and unloading wagons and broomsticks. He was grateful as they moved away from the tannery, and the horrible smell vanished. Snape was leading him towards the large building made of glass chunks, where most of the traffic was coming from or going to, and as they drew closer, Harry could see a large sign made of midnight blue glass with white letters that glowed, and spelled out what the building was: "London Freight Portal".

"Why are all these people coming and going so late at night?" He asked Snape.

"The rates are cheaper at night, Potter." He was informed. "The freight portal operates 24 hours a day. Even at that, it barely keeps up with the demand."

Harry looked at some of the wagons going by. There were a lot of items that he recognized. There was a wagon full of cauldrons. There was a smaller wagon with gallon jugs of pumpkin juice. They were now at one of several gateways of the Freight portal, and he and Snape deftly dodged a broomstick with baskets full of tiny vials of Pepper-up potion. Behind it came a cadaverous looking wizard with such a sour expression on his face that it nearly put Snape to shame. There was a suitcase manacled to the wizards hand, and he held his wand with an obviously hostile intent. Harry did not have time to wonder what was in the suitcase, as he had to dodge a plump witch carrying two large sacks of something that was wriggling around and making an ominous buzzing noise. Harry squeezed to one side, not wanting to get anywhere near whatever was in the sacks.

Inside the building were countless large stacks of crates, sacks, barrels, and every other container imaginable. Several wizards with red robes were scurrying around casting levitation spells, in some places removing some of the stacked items, and in other spots, adding new ones. Farther along, Harry saw the wizards with the red robes giving the items to other wizards, more familiarly dressed, or taking the items from them, to be added to the stacks.

One wizard in a red robe was screaming loudly at a goblin that they did not ship to Antartica except on Tuesdays and Thursdays between 9pm and midnight. The goblin was screaming loudly back, but made little sense, as his argument consisted mainly of obscenities in Goblinish.

Harry and Snape moved past them, and entered a large, well lit chamber. The center of the chamber was filled by three enourmous hoops made of what seemed to be solid silver. As Harry drew closer, he could see that the silver was embossed with horribly complicated runes made of solid gold. The center of the hoops shimmered peculiarly, as if the air in it was attempting to condense into mercury. There were lines in front of two of the hoops, from the first one, various wizards, creatures, and vehicles were appearing, obviously apparated from some other place. The line by the second hoop was doing the opposite, wizards and cargo were going INTO it, and then vanishing, apparated to elsewhere. There were several blue robed wizards by each hoop, waving their wands and casting spells in unison, and Harry recognized them as probably being Gibsonite Apparators. At any rate, they were dressed the same way the Apparators in the pensieve memory Dumbldore had shown him had been.

The third hoop, oddly enough, was not being used. Two of the blue robed apparators were standing by it, and gesturing angrily to some detail on the golden runes that Harry could not make out.

"Stop staring, Potter." Snape said. "You look like a fool. Come with me, I have to schedule our departure."

Harry followed Snape, as they went up to a blue-robed wizard who was standing behind a desk full of parchment forms.

"Passage for two." Snape told the wizard.

The wizard nodded. "Destination?"

"Perth."

The wizard looked smiled. "It's a long ways. Going to cost you, mate."

"Fine. How much."

The wizard consulted several of his parchment charts. "I can fit you in at the tail end of the next Perth run. It'll be 10 Galleons, each, for you."

Snape reached into his robes, took out a pouch of coins, and counted out the necessary amount. The wizard squinted at the money, as if suspicious that it might be counterfeit, than put it into a small chest on the table. "You'll be leaving in a little over an hour, at 4:33 exactly. No refunds for missing the Apparating."

He took out two small quartz crystals on slender cords, and tapped them with his wand, muttering an incantation. He handed one to Snape, and one to Harry, who looked at it dumbly.

"What's this?" Harry asked Snape, hating the fact that he had to ask.

"You might say it's your ticket, Potter." Snape said. "Though it is more than that. Among other things, it will start flashing 10 minutes before we have to leave. So you have no excuse for being late."

Then Snape surprised Harry. He waved his arms expansively. "Go on and look around, Potter. Explore. Perhaps you will learn something, though if your performance in Hogwarts is anything to judge by, I seriously doubt it. Just be sure to remain in the building, and get back to these portals in time for us to leave."

More to get away from Snape and his constant stream of unwarranted insults, Harry slipped the cord of the crystal he had been given, and went to look around. First he decided to take a closer look at the freight portals. One of the blue robed wizards announced that there were now 'arrivals from China', and a moment later, several Oriental wizards came out of one of the portals, along with a few wagons carrying sacks of rice and bales of silk. As they were coming into the building, a wizard by another portal announced 'Departures for Peru'. There was only one departure for Peru, a wagon pulled by a stout-looking Ox, and carrying dozens of rolled up tanned dragonhides. Remembering the horrible smell of the tannery, Harry winced. He wondered what they needed so much dragonhide in Peru for.

He watched several more departures and arrivals, before getting bored, and moving along elsewhere in the building. There were some magical moving posters on one wall, which listed forbidden items, which were never to be shipped under any circumstances, and hazardous items, which could be shipped, but required special arrangements and extra fees to do so. The forbidden list was rather short, consisting mainly of Dementors, items which would explode for no good reason, Dementors, anything stolen, Dementors, and body parts of intelligent creatures which had been murdered. And particularly Dementors. The hazardous list was far longer, and Harry was not entirely pleased to see that these Gibsonite Apparators would, for a high enough fee, ship many things which were dangerous, illegal, or the result of the Dark Arts, such as Veela Blood Wine, fireworks, weapons, poisons, dangerous plants and animals, and texts on the the very worst of the Dark Arts, including those which gave instructions on how to create Horcruxes.

Harry felt a sudden stab of anger. Had it been from this freight portal that the Dark Lord obtained the spell books that taught him how to make Horcruxes? How could these people ship such a horrible thing! Didn't they have any sense of morality or responsibility?

"Mercenery pricks." he swore under his breath. What in the world was wrong with these people? They murdered people who were trying to surrender or get away, tortured people to death for breaking their weird laws against Dementors, and did not care at all about keeping dangerous weapons and magic out of the hands of criminals. Well, no wonder Snape wanted to go there. They were just as nasty as he was.

For the life of him, Harry could not understand why Voldemort had attacked the Gibsonites. You would think that people like them would be only to eager to cooperate with him, so long as he paid them enough.

Depressed by the posters, Harry moved on into another part of the building which turned out to be a small restaurant. Apparently a lot of wizards had to wait some time before they could travel through the freight portals, and would get hungry. The menu offered foods he was familiar with, such as pumpkin juice and kidney pies, but also some odd things like 'candied shrimp' and 'roast kangaroo' which he decided must be there for the benefit of the Australian apparators who operated the freight portals.

Harry noticed a flickering, and looked down to see that his crystal had started to flash. Not wanting to be later, he hurried back to the freight portals. Snape was standing by his suitcase, and also had gotten a small trunk of his own from somewhere. Harry wondered how it had gotten there, but decided not to ask. Snape would merely use any questions on his part to make him feel stupid.

"Well, Potter. I'm surprised you decided to show up on time, and in a reasonable fashion, rather than late, and in a flying car." Snape said. "Take your suitcase and get behind me. We'll be apparating shortly through the portals."

Harry thought it rather unfair for Snape to mention the flying car incident from nearly 5 years ago, but said nothing. He took his suitcase, and stood in line. It moved forward steadily, and before he knew it, it was time for them to leave. Feeling apprehensive for the first time, Harry gazed up at the freight portal that loomed in front of him. It literally thrummed with magical energy, and he could feel the floor vibrating under his feet.

"Err, is this safe?" He asked one of the blue-robed wizards. "Does it hurt at all, to go through."

"First time, huh?" The wizard winked at him. "Not to worry, it's a smooth trip. Enjoy it."

He took the quartz crystals from Harry and Snape, cast a spell on them, and then spoke breifly to the other wizards. They raised their wands and pointed them at the silvery structure of the portals, casting a spell to slightly alter the destination.

"Go through!" one of them urged. Seeing Harry's hesitation, Snape seized him by one arm, and yanked him forward, practically throwing him headfirst into the portal.

Harry was frightened for a moment, not sure what to expect. A worse version, perhaps, of the crushing sensation he had felt when apparating with Dumbledore or Snape, or the lurching yank of a portkey on his stomach. But it was nothing like that. Instead he felt a delicious hum through his whole body. The room where the portals were seemed to fade away, and he heard something like a long, perfect musical note. His body seemed to become very small, or perhaps it was the world that was small, and his body was millions of miles long. He was dazed for a minute, and then found himself standing next to Snape in front of another circular freight portal. It was far brighter than it had been, and Harry realized that the sun was shining in through the glass roof of wherever they were. Perth, he guessed. Being several hours ahead in time, it was daytime in Australia, even though it was still dark in England.

A musical note still shook his whole body, and Harry felt himself involuntarily humming it aloud. He recalled what Dumbledore said about some wizards being better at Apparating than he was. Compared to the nearly painful experience he had had of apparating with the headmaster, this was like experiencing a melodic piano concert by a virtuoso after previously only hearing the discordant jangling of an amateur pounding the keys at random. Was it always like this Apparating with a Gibsonite, he wondered? Or was it the freight portals which made the trip go easier?

Snape shook him out of his revery. "Come on, Potter. Stop holding up the line. We need to leave this building in order to Apparate."

"We're in Perth, then?" Harry said agreeably. The note still sounding in his mind was a calming draught to his soul. "Where are we going. You said we were going to meet a freind of yours, the Parselmouth?"

"Yes, right now he's at the Gibson Glassworks." Snape had to talk loudly to be heard over several flying carpets loaded with barrels that zoomed past. Harry gaped at that. Flying carpets were strictly forbidden in England. It was a classified as a misuse of muggle artifacts. Apparently the Gibsonites didn't care about misusing muggle artifacts, so much as they cared about efficiently getting the cargo in and out of their freight portals. And it was efficient, Harry saw. The building and the large doorways were tall enough that several carpets could fly one above the other. Taking advantage of the vertical space, they loaded and unloaded much more efficiently than the wagons and other permitted magical forms of transportation in England which had to spread out horizontally. Oh, the brooms could have flown above one another, but they could not carry much compared to the large carpets.

How much time and money was wasted, using less efficient means of transportation, Harry wondered. Time and money that could have been spent on other things, and probably had to be added to the price of everything shipped to or from England. And what good did it do, other than to give some ministry employee a job enforcing the law against flying carpets? They really weren't doing any harm, so far as Harry could see. Not like the vile books about the Dark Arts and other such things that the Gibsonites would ship if they were paid.

He forced his mind back to what Snape had said. "Why is a parselmouth at a Glassworks? I thought they talked to snakes." Harry asked.

"They do, Potter." Snape shook his head. "You obviously never studied in Binn's class, or you would know why he was at a Glass making concern. Well, perhaps you'll figure it out when you get there."

They had left the building, now. Harry turned for a moment to gaze at it. It was nearly identical to the building they had left in London, save that it was a little more worn, as if it were older, and the sign on it read "Perth Freight Portal" rather than "London Freight Portal". Then he looked about. They seemed to be in a magical manufacturing district as they had been in London, a little ways away he could see building with large signs that proclaimed "Murray Sand Sorting", "W'Naga's Cauldron Foundry", and "Smythe's Seed Depot". Similiar enough to what Harry had seen in London near the freight portal, but there were subtle differences. It seemed slightly cleaner on the whole, there was far less litter, and the cobbled road was in far better condition, with very few cracks or potholes. And the buildings themselves were constructed in a distinctly foreign way. There was not a single wood building so far as Harry could tell. Perhaps about half of them were constructed of every imaginable sort or glass, ranging from nearly ethereal sheets of transparent and frosted glass, to dark heavy chunks of glass that almost looked burnt, to colorful riots of stained glass that looked like something that would not be out of place at a carnival. Other structures were made of brick, metal, stone, and adobe, or various combinations thereof. And gazing farther down the block, Harry swore he could see a few buildings made of concrete blocks and sheet metal. Apparently these Gibsonite wizards did not share the English contempt for using modern muggle materials. In a way, Harry supposed, it made sense. At one time, centuries ago, brick, stone, and all the other materials Harry was familiar with from Diagon Alley and other wizarding communities in England had probably been newly invented by the muggles. Why make some arbitrary judgement and decide it was acceptable to use materials which had been around for 101 years, but not those which had only been around for only 99 years or less?

At the same time, though, he found it frightening. Both Snape and Dumbledore had spoken to him of the Gibsonite's pragmatism. The sight of those very Mugglish looking buildings drove the point home in a way no amount of mere speech could. Like nothing else, they convinced Harry that he was going to be dealing with a nearly alien people, with an alien way of thinking. They had been seperated from Enland for nearly 200 years now, and for all that time had been following their own divergent cultural path. A great deal could change in that time, Harry knew. He had learned from Professor Binns that the English language itself had changed to near incomprehensibility in less than that time, between the era of Chaucer and that of Shakespeare. It made life rather difficult for certain wizards, who had to learn Middle English in order to study various older magical texts.

The street was even busier than Brick Brack Alley in London had been, though Harry was not certain if that was because it was afternoon rather than pre-dawn here, or if the Gibsonites simply had a stronger and more vigourous economy, requiring more commerce, manufacturing, and transportation than that of England. He desperately hoped it was the first, but could not make himself believe it. Those posters he had seen in the London Freight Portal advertising all sorts of nasty things the Gibsonites were willing to ship for a high enough price spoke of a very greedy people interested in little but money.

There were numerous wizards hurrying down the road. Most of them wore either red, yellow, or blue robes. He did not think that all of the blue robed wizards could possibly be Apparators, so either the blue color signified something else that Harry was not aware of, or meant nothing at all. Some wizards were not wearing robes, but rather muggle clothes from every era. Barely a few yards in front of him a witch dressed in a linen dress in the style of ancient Egyptians was talking to a wizard wearing a suit that could have come directly from his Uncle Vernon's tailors.

Coming out of W'Naga's Cauldron Foundry was a dark skinned man wearing a loincloth, sandals, and nothing else at all. He was carrying a slim breifcase made out of black leather.

Harry choked, and almost had to whimper. It was, perhaps, fortunate for him that this was a fairly cool day for December, which was late spring in Australia. A small, but significant portion of the human and magical creature population would often wear nothing at all when the weather permitted. Among other things wrought by the cultural changes of the past two centuries there was a drastic reduction of the nudity taboo, and a complete elimination of any laws regarding what was commonly known as 'indecent exposure'. As the mere fact of someone being naked did not harm anyone else, it did not violate the law there, and the only course of action open to those who might be offended by it was to keep their eyes closed and their mouth shut.

Then Harry gasped. Coming down the road was a Goblin on a small flying carpet with a chest behind him, and a centaur trotting side by side with him. They both wore belts with obvious wands on them.

"They can't do that!" Harry said to Snape, not sure if he was outraged or astonished. "Goblins aren't permitted wands!"

"Goblins aren't permitted wands in England." Snape smirked as he corrected Harry. "And most other countries of the world. They are permitted to do so here. That particular question was settled nearly 200 years ago. Preventing Goblins or any other intelligent creature the use of wands would violate the Gibsonite's particular law and philosophy."

"Aren't they afraid of another Goblin rebellion?"

"Well, apparently they're not, Potter. What reason would the Goblins have to rebel, unless they are being treated unfairly? Which they're apparently not, here. Quite the contrary, they're doing quite well. They run a branch of Gringott's bank," Snape pointed a finger towards a crooked Grecian looking building on a hill about half a mile away. "And are getting rich doing it. As are the Gibsonites. The Goblins are willing to give them a lower interest rate on loans than they do everyone else in the world in return for their equal treatment."

"So in other words they just give the Goblins special priveleges because it lines their own pockets." Harry sniffed. The more he learned about them, the more the Gibsonites sounded like Slytherins to him.

Snape turned towards Harry, his lips twisting snidely "First of all, Potter, they are not giving the Goblins 'special priveleges', as you put it. They are simply giving them the same 'priveleges', if you choose to use that term, rather than a more accurate one, that they themselves have. And their reasons for doing so should not concern you, unless you are the sort of sentimental dunderhead who is more interested in motivations than results. Lining their pockets is admittedly a good reason for doing as they do. If you choose to believe that it's the only one, that's your business. But really, Potter, the only important question you really should be asking yourself is whether or not they are correct in their actions, and the results of them are beneficial to everyone concerned. Now, if you don't mind, we need to get going if we are going to meet up with DeVries on time.

Snape held out his arm once more, and as soon as Harry took it, he apparated away, off the street.

The trip was unpleasant, again the jarring, crushing apparating that Harry had become accustomed to. And yet that musical note which was still in him from the trip through the freight portal seemed to make the trip easier. It was such a strange sound, as if it came from some higher dimension that pinned together matter and energy with musical notes that occupied the space between them. He found himself humming again, then with an effort forced himself to stop, and take a look at where they had arrived.