A/N: Woot! Moving on. Warning, there's angst.
Chapter 26
Rubber Fruit
Upon the defeat of their highest ranking officer, the remaining marines chose to retreat and sailed off after fishing their officer from the ocean.
As the crew again went through the process of cleaning up the ship, Shanks stared forlornly at the tear in his straw hat.
"Oy, Roller," he called out. An old man with short white hair and a heavily scarred face looked up.
"Again, Captain?" Roller sighed, exasperated. "You can only patch a Straw Hat so many times before it becomes more patch work than straw."
"But - !" Shanks protested, a whining tone in his voice as he pouted like a child.
Harry took the chance to drop the disillusionment charm over him and Spaz as he jumped down and plucked the hat from Shanks' hands.
"Not to worry," Harry reassured, "I can take care of it."
With a muttered 'Reparo' as the wizard drew his hand along the tear, the hat was good as new when he handed it back.
"Awesome!" Shanks exclaimed. "Thanks."
"No problem," Harry replied, turning to look at Spaz who was jumping down from the cabin roof as well. "Time to make lunch?"
"Yes sirree, Harry, let's go, what's for lunch today Harry, huh, huh? Can ya make the spaghetti and meatballs again, oh, oh can ya, please, Harry? It was really awesome last time, yes sirree, it was, and I wanna try helping with the dough this time!"
"Sure you spaz, just calm down. Let's get out of the way, then, so the pirate can finish cleaning up the ship," Harry chuckled as Spaz bounced beside him. Apparently watching Shanks' fight had gotten him pretty excited.
Spaz raced to fetch the ingredients as Harry finished cleaning up from breakfast. There must have been some Shave during the trip because Spaz returned in moments, balancing flour, meat, vegetables, and oil in cartons and barrels.
Harry quickly lent a hand in setting them onto the counter when he noticed something in his close proximity with his friend.
"Well look at that," the wizard exclaimed, reaching a hand out to pinch Spaz's cheek, "you're growing some fuzz!"
"Um, uh, yes, I guess, I – uh, growing, yeah, something," Spaz muttered embarrassedly, perhaps at the lateness of this sign of puberty, nervously scratching at the area in mention.
Harry peered at it from an angle. "It's growing out brown, though. Should I change it yellow too?"
"Oh, uh," Spaz exclaimed with mild surprise, "I suppose so, Harry, 'cause it'll look awful strange with two colors growing, yes sirree, except, um, I wasn't sure if I should keep it?"
"You'll look different," the 'and different is good considering your runaway status' remained unsaid, "but I'm sure you can ask around the pirates if they have a razor they'll let you use." Harry paused a moment, reconsidering what he just said. "On second thought, it might be more sanitary to just let me do it for you since there's a spell for that."
"I think I'll leave it for now," Spaz decided after a moment, "so, dough?"
"Sure," Harry smiled, quickly spelling the fuzz yellow before explaining the steps involved in making spaghetti dough and meatballs.
The Straw Hat ghost approached Harry that night on the deck at around three in the morning, sitting on the railing next to where the wizard was resting his head.
"That's two nights in a row now, Harry," the ghost stated, unusually solemn.
"There's been fighting two days in a row now," Harry replied wearily.
"You seem fine during the battles, though," the ghost wondered aloud, "and really, if you're going to stick around, this might be a problem later, since Shanks is a pretty infamous pirate. Anyone arrogant enough to think they stand a chance will want a piece of him, and he doesn't have Whitebeard's reputation to chase most of them off. Eventually, maybe, but not yet."
"Whitebeard?" Harry asked, somewhat familiar with the title but not entirely sure who it was referring to.
"Roger's old rival, currently known as the man closest to becoming the new pirate king. And don't change the subject."
Harry chuckled. "Sorry, mate, but I don't think there's anything I can do about it, really. The fights have been really amusing so far, nothing like those in my past, but they still trigger memories and so I get nightmares. For the past three years, I've been running away from them, but now? There's really nowhere left to run."
"I don't really understand that, the 'fights being different' part, I mean," the ghost replied. "Fights are fights, aren't they? Sure, no one's died yet, but it may happen at some point, and there've been plenty of injuries and flying weapons between us and enemies who both look down on us and hate us."
There was a pause as Harry wondered how to explain. "Hey Ghost, what do you think Shanks fights for?"
"For?" the ghost asked. "Well, for the freedom to enjoy the sea with his crew, I suppose. For the adventure, for the rush, for the thrill of battle and the rewards that follow."
"And the marines?"
"For their ideal of justice, for promotions to higher power, sometimes for vengeance, I guess, and I can't deny that they often fight to stop criminals from ruining the lives of innocent civilians."
"That's nice," Harry hummed. "I wish I knew what it was I fought for. For vengeance perhaps? Ten years I believed my parents died in a car crash driving drunk. Knowing an insane wizard Dark Lord killed them at the age of eleven seemed like a strange story of someone else's life. It's horrible, and I wish they didn't die, sure, but I never knew them. I don't know what I lost except maybe guardians that wouldn't lock me in a closet as punishment for burning the bacon. And in the end, how many parents have I stolen as part of the war effort, locking them away in Azkaban for crimes of treason or some such vague felony?"
The Straw Hat ghost hovered awkwardly, not understanding several parts of this strange story – Azkaban? Dark Lord? – but unwilling to interrupt for an explanation.
"For the ideals of good versus evil? Right over wrong? Like I understood that, either. The idea that hundreds of lives were dependant on me murdering a wizard with half a century's worth of experience over me and was considered a genius in school was terrifying – I often tried to just ignore it. And in the end? I lost my two best friends, all the people who fought with me an on the front lines are dead or insane, my girlfriend was murdered a week after the final battle, and the same stupid prejudices are taught to each successive generation in the pureblood families. And me? Three years of running, culminating in a stupid decision to commit suicide and Merlin be damned I'm spouting angst like some spoilt teen at the age of twenty-one."
Harry banged his head against the railing a few times before sinking to the floor, lying back on the deck to gaze at the stars. "Sorry Ginny, I did it again," Harry apologized to the night sky, wincing slightly at the scolding his mind conjured from how Ginny would have reacted to his pity party.
The Straw Hat ghost floated over, slowly tilting horizontal until he was parallel with Harry and looking down at the wizard with a quizzical expression before seemingly giving up on trying to understand.
"Shall we play Follow-the-Leader?"
Harry chuckled and sunk into his ghost form. "Sure. Do your worst."
The Straw Hat ghost smirked mischievously. "Heehee, try this!" Like a rocket, though he had no such conceptions, the ghost shot off up towards the sky, whirling and twirling as his baggy clothes billowed from the movement.
Harry laughed and imitated the action shortly after, his robes poofing out a bit like a twirling skirt as he pursued the boy. "That all you got?"
The rest of the night was spent in distraction as the ghost tried to recall the mental limits of a living being while Harry tried to cross them with his ghost body. They zig-zagged through the masts before sliding into the wooden posts and riding up them like elevators to come to a gentle stop at the very tip, both leaning impossibly against the tip of the flag post, their feet outstretched in midair as they watched the sea begin to glisten in the sunrise.
"Thank you."
"Hah," the ghost exclaimed, "I'll stump you next time."
"Pfft," Harry snorted, "you haven't stumped me once since the first two times we played. Once I figured out how to fly through thin air without any support but my will, not much else is a challenge."
"I'll figure out something," came the assured reply. "It's just been too long since I was bound by your puny mortal limitations."
Harry smirked. "You forget I'm not a common mortal." With a quick twirl, Harry soundlessly apparated away, thus leaving behind a gaping ghost in favor of playing a quick prank on Spaz. He wondered for a moment if he could replicate the feeling of being dunked in cold water that seemed to so common among the ghosts back home.
When he managed to reappear on the deck still soundless, the wizard halted his train of thought in favor of pondering the new mystery of his sudden proficiency in silent apparation. Was it the lack of mass his ghost form held? In fact, the whole process felt like it took practically no effort at all. Why didn't the ghosts back home ever do it? Although, Harry couldn't remember any Hogwarts ghosts performing magic of any kind, so perhaps they couldn't since they didn't have a wand?
And yet, was apparition-as-a-ghost magic or simply another example of mind over matter? Surely limitations such as speed of travel shouldn't matter to a ghost!
"Hey, Straw Hat Ghost!" Harry called out. "You try it!"
The ghost grinned. "Just watch!" he called back, eagerly taking on the challenge. With a dramatic flourish he spun in place at his position by the flag for a few moments when suddenly, he vanished, only to tumble dizzily in front of Harry, laughing and whooping in excitement.
"Awesome!" the ghost exclaimed, before vanishing again to the other side of the deck, then high up over the masts, and again to reappear halfway through Harry's live-again body.
"You're not cold," Harry observed with interest.
The ghost cocked his head in question, pausing his explorations of his new ability at the strangeness of Harry's statement.
"Should I be?" he asked.
"Well," the wizard explained, "all the ghosts back home were freezing to the touch."
"Huh, well, it depends on the ghost really, I think. To be honest, I've not yet seen all the ghost types yet, though I've heard rumors of ghosts that can manipulate a person's emotions and I know some ghosts can hold onto their Haki for a period of time after their death to physically influence] the living world. There are, of course, also many ghosts that are visible to normal humans too, though none quite as solid as you. I don't know any freezing ghosts, though. Is that the only way you can tell ghosts from living people back where you come from?"
Harry furrowed his brow. "No, actually, ghosts back home are colourless and translucent. Strange," He murmured, looking absentmindedly at his ghost friend as the sun shone through his semi-transparent form. "Ah! Breakfast! The sun's already so high," he exclaimed suddenly, switching to ghost form and apparating to Spaz's hammock.
"Oh, Spaz…" Harry called out in a sing-song voice, his head rising through Spaz's chest. He barely had time to notice that the only thing he saw passing through was fuzzy darkness when Spaz blearily opened his eyes and locked gazes with Harry. "Boo!"
Spaz shrieked and tumbled out of his hammock, landing on the deck with a thump. Several of the surrounding pirates grunted a bit at the noise but soon turned over to continue sleeping, nearly immune to such mild wake-up calls in comparison to their captain's rowdiness.
"Harry!" Spaz exclaimed, before pouting a little at Harry's hysterical laughter.
"Oh Merlin," Harry chuckled, slightly breathless. "Alright, breakfast, let's go."
Breakfast came and went quickly, the pirates as hungry as ever. After their morning meal, Shanks directed his crew to sail back to headquarters while Beckman conducted inventory on their treasure from Zoldeo in search of the item the Marines were so interested in.
As the pirates piled into rowboats, Beckman entered one with Shanks – again with Harry and Spaz – a small wooden chest under his arm.
"This might interest you, Captain," Beckman stated with a smile, presenting the chest to Shanks.
The pirate captain flipped opened the lid and let out a low whistle. "This is it, Beckman, can't be anything else the marines want back so desperately."
Harry peered over Shanks' shoulder curiously. In the box was a large indigo fruit, somewhat reminiscent of a melon, decorated with curly S-shaped swirls.
"Devil fruit," Harry whispered, remembering his own blue, swirly fruit.
"Do you which one, Beckman?" Shanks asked, strangely not surprised by Harry's identification.
"It's in the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, actually," Beckman informed his captain, taking out a book that was tucked in the cloth belt wrapped around his waist. "Paramecium type," he read aloud, lighting a new cigarette, "the Rubber-Rubber Fruit – gives the consumer's body rubber-like qualities including elasticity and high resistance to blunt attacks."
"Cool," Shanks grinned, "you interested?"
"No thank you, Captain. Actually, it might be a bad idea for anyone in the crew to eat it until we figure out how to anticipate an attack from the Sea King hiding in these waters surrounding our headquarters."
"You're no fun, Beckman. Pity about the being-unable-to-swim thing with Devil Fruits – it'd be kind of neat to have a rubber body, but I always did believe a pirate should be able to swim," said Shanks, closing the lid and placing the fruit down on the bottom of the boat.
"Shanks!" came an enthusiastic cry from the shore.
"Luffy!" the pirate called back with a grin. "Come and greet us!"
The small boy frowned. "I can't swim, Shanks. You hurry up and come! Ms. Makino is cooking lunch and it smells really, really good! And next time you go out, take me with you!"
"Dahahahah!" Shanks laughed. "Can't swim? What kind of pirate can't swim? You'd best give up, Luffy, and keep living quietly on this island until you're older, yeah?"
Luffy growled. "Don't treat me like a little kid! I'm strong and I'm going to be a pirate, Shanks!" he yelled at the infamous pirate captain.
"Dahaha," Shanks continued to laugh, "com'on Luffy." He jumped out of the rowboat that ground to a halt in the shallow waters. "Let's have some of Makino's fine cooking and I'll tell you about our latest adventure."
"Alright, sure!" Luffy chirped cheerfully, appeased by this offering.
"Oi, Shanks," Harry called out, "what about the fruit?"
"Hang on to it, will you Kid?" Shanks called back over his shoulders. "I'm sure the Marines haven't forgotten about it."
"Wow, the Marines!" Luffy exclaimed. "Did you fight the Marines this week, Shanks? So cool – I bet it was an awesome fight! Take me with you next time, okay Shanks?"
With Luffy's chatter and Shanks' bold laughter fading away as they walked off, Harry picked the chest up and shrunk it so he could fit it into his pocket. He stretched a bit and, once Spaz finished helping Beckman secured the rowboat, headed with the pirate crew towards Partys'. He was feeling quite hungry for some food made by someone other than him for a change.
A/N: So, like, I watched the last movie, and it was pretty cool, but I hated that Harry's eyes kept switching back to the actor's blue color instead of the canon GREEN! RAWR!
Anyways, thanks bunches again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings.
470 reviews today, July 27, 2011
Thanks everyone :)