Sitting in the sand on the beach of Fernando Po Island off the coast of Western Africa, Harry listened to the nineteenth-century muggle world traveler, Lieutenant James Holman, as he spoke about traveling through desolate Siberia on a horse-drawn cart.
Healer Jordan and Mr. Burbage had quietly provided chairs that didn't sink into the sand. Harry wasn't sure how they did it, though he was grateful for the chance to sit down and he could tell that his peers were, too. They were in a generous semicircle that opened at the sea to include Mei.
He thought she must be sitting on the beach not far from the group. She was uncharacteristically quiet, at least for what he knew of her. The hordes of children who had been running back and forth to laden her with shell necklaces had been encouraged (magically?) to leave and now it was just their group on the beach. They were close enough to the ship that Harry could hear the waves moving against it and the noises of a crew on board.
Waves occasionally lapped at their feet. Harry had taken off his shoes and socks (before they got wet) and stored them in his staff and rolled up his trouser legs. A shade had been erected over them as well so that the sun was no longer beating on them. Gemma's hand rested lightly on his arm, Tony sat on his other side and next to him, Aminah. Harry was glad he made it down here.
Lieutenant Holman was seated, too, as he shared his observations. He seemed to have an insatiable curiosity coupled with an openness. He was recounting an especially amusing episode of when he was traveling with his dear friend, Mr. Colebrook, who happened to be deaf and they were visiting a museum.
Like me and Gemma. How do they communicate?
They had special permission to touch the sculptures and his friend was guiding him to each sculpture so that Lieutenant Holman could feel them. Apparently, his friend played a joke on him and placed him at the foot of one of the guards at the museum and then stood back to watch in amusement as Lieutenant Holman figured out that he was examining the form of a live person and not a sculpture. Harry was amazed that Lieutenant Holman could tell this story with so much mirth. The way he told it, Lieutenant Holman thought the joke his friend had played on him was hilarious. Harry wasn't sure he'd feel the same way.
Gemma would never do that to me.
He remembered how just yesterday morning the thought of feeling the map of the Center while everyone else was watching was so mortifying.
Maybe you get used to it… whatever it is.
What he was finding really remarkable about Lieutenant Holman's story was how when he was confined to one place he would get really sick and that getting out and about was what he needed to get well again. And he had to sneak away to get what he needed because everyone around him thought that it was too dangerous for him to travel.
What was dangerous to his health was being confined, but it was the opposite of what doctors and family were telling him to do. Just hearing about it made a bile of anger rise in Harry's throat. Fresh in his memory was being sent to the Dursleys to rest and recuperate when really what it meant was that he was put to work.
If someone had just asked me what I needed…
Waves lapped over his feet swirling the sand between his toes and distracting him momentarily from his thoughts and anger. The wave had come in higher than previous waves and the rolled cuffs of his trousers had gotten soaked. Mei seemed to be moving through the sand closer to the gap that opened up in their semicircle on the other side of Gemma. He could hear her tail slapping the shallow water and the shell necklaces around her neck tinkling together as she moved with each wave. If he hadn't known she was on the beach, he would have had a really hard time figuring out what was making the noise.
He wondered if Lieutenant Holman knew because he had paused in his story about his perilous journey back through Siberia in the custody of the Russian Czar's secret guard (they thought he was a spy, apparently).
The group grew hushed. Harry wondered if there was something about Mei's expression or aspect that made everyone worry… some visual warning that he couldn't pick up on. He noticed that the temperature had dropped a few degrees and that the wind was picking up. A big wave came in and nearly toppled his chair. Had the sun gone behind the clouds? He could taste moisture in the air.
Maybe a storm is coming in?
Mei's gruff voice pierced the relative silence, "Get to shelter everyone, there's a big storm coming!"
Then it sounded like she had turned and was moving quickly back to the ocean. He wondered where she'd go to be safe.
Maybe she swam out to the deep sea? Surely, in a painting that is made of memories, the storm can't hurt us? He thought.
But it felt real. He scratched at a mosquito bite.
It felt real.
The wind had picked up and now sand was pelting the side of his face. Gemma had gripped his arm. As he stood up, the chair disappeared from under him. At first, he thought it had blown away, but then he realized that it had been magically moved.
"Aminah, Tony?" Harry called. They answered him—they were close by. He felt Gemma reaching out for them and they stumbled together across the sand. Harry's bare feet slid in the sand and he cried out when he stepped on something sharp, but there was no time to stop to examine it.
They had moved around each other and now Aminah and Harry had their arms around Tony's waist and Harry's other arm was around Gemma's shoulders.
Harry could hear Healer Jordan calling out to them, though the wind kept taking her words and tossing them away so that he couldn't catch her meaning.
They bent over as rain started to drill into their back, harder than the sand. Wind howled and Harry couldn't hear any voices anymore. He couldn't hear his staff's directions over the wind, either though it was shouting at him about the hazards that were being thrown in his path. All he could feel were the bodies pressed against his, Gemma's vice-like grip on his hand on her shoulder, and a sharp pain on the sole of his foot. He was pretty sure he had a deep cut.
Tony and Gemma were guiding them toward something and then suddenly, they were squeezing through a small doorway, stumbling forward, and the wind-whipping noise was cut off abruptly as the door was slammed behind them.
"Here, come over here." Healer Jordan's voice rang out in the small space that felt crowded with bodies. It was eerie how they couldn't hear or feel the storm anymore.
Have we gone through a portal? Are we back in the French Alps or back in London? Harry wondered.
"Where's here?" Harry asked, irritated; his foot throbbing as he limped over, walking only on the toes of his left foot.
People were speaking in low voices around them. He could hear their shuffling feet as they moved to make room for the group of teens to pass through. Harry had let go of Tony's waist and moved his arm from around Gemma's shoulder to her arm and she moved forward. He could feel Tony (literally) on his heels.
"Oh, good. Now we're all here. Here's a spot for you four," Healer Jordan said as they grew closer. "Nice job sticking together and keeping each other safe."
"Do you think Mei will be okay, Healer Jordan?" Aminah asked, voicing Harry's thoughts as they settled into the chairs that had been on the beach.
"Yes, she's the best equipped for this sort of thing. I'm sure she went deep into the sea," Healer Jordan responded.
"She's all alone out there," Aminah whispered.
"She'll be okay, Aminah," Tony assured. "She's tough."
Gemma shivered next to Harry, now soaked and cold after the dramatic drop in temperature.
"The natives think that she's Mami Wata," Lieutenant Holman contributed from the other side of the small space. "A powerful water spirit who has healing powers, though she can be destructive. They may think that she brought this storm. They may feel that she is not pleased with her reception."
Harry brought his foot to his knee and started gently brushing the sand away from the tender area.
"What will they do to appease her?" asked Fitz, closer to Lieutenant Holman.
There were a couple of sharp intakes of breath.
"They will bring… " Adam paused, distracted… "her more offerings."
"Can we do anything to help assure them that she is not Mami Wata and that she didn't bring this storm?" asked a woman.
"I don't think you'll be able to dissuade them of the notion that she's Mami Wata," Lieutenant Holman chuckled.
A couple people gasped.
"After the storm passes, she can just come back and let them know that everything's okay, right?" Fitz asked.
"Somehow I doubt she'll be willing to come back… " said Tony in a low voice.
Harry laughed warily in agreement.
Harry was very curious about this room… it was absolutely blank to him. It had no aroma apart from the people who populated it; there were no sounds of the storms; when he opened his eyes the light was very diffused, neither light nor dark. He had no idea where they were and he found it very disconcerting.
"Where are we?" he leaned over to ask Tony.
Tony seemed distracted, though, and didn't answer, though he made gasping noises as if he was watching something.
Gemma picked up his hand and wrote, "I-N-S-I-D-E" space "M-A-G-I-C-A-L" space "G-L-A-S-S" space "H-U-T" space "W-E" space "S-E-E" space "S-T-O-R-M."
"It must be pretty spectacular," Harry guessed.
She tapped twice on his arm, "F-R-I-G-H-T-E-N-I-N-G" space "A-N-D" space "B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L".
As much as he was glad that he didn't have to endure the sand piercing his skin, Harry wished that he could at least smell the storm.
Healer Jordan was making her way through them casting a drying and warming spell. She had finally reached Harry and as he felt the warmth snake through his clothes, she exclaimed, "Oh, Harry. You've got a nasty cut there. Can I heal it for you?"
"That would be great, thanks," Harry said. And before he was done uttering the words, his foot was dry and smooth again.
"I love magic," he said, relieved.