Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - The Skye Beach Stranger
Summary:
Canon, One Shot - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 7th book. Harry, Ron and Hermione have escaped the Ministry of Magic with the locket, and are on the move across the countryside. They apparate to a new location on the Isle of Skye, and encounter an interesting man by the sea while looking for food.
Hermione clasped their hands and they all braced for the familiar clenching sensation of apparition. When they arrived and opened their eyes, it was to see a beautiful sunset in an ocean bay with a waterfall trickling off a cliff. Ron sniffed impressively, and Harry craned his head to view the mountains.
"Isle of Skye" she exhaled, dropping their hands, turning to survey their surroundings.
"Another childhood vacation?" asked Harry.
"No - well, almost." said Hermione, looking around with wide eyes. "We thought about coming here, and I wanted to see the hills and highland cows so badly that I memorized the pamphlet by heart, but my parents decided to do Marseille instead."
"Shame" smiled Harry, "The Dursleys almost took me to Tesco once, but decided to leave me at home instead." He shrugged, sniffing the salty breeze and gazing at the soft mountains. "I could get comfortable here. Too bad we didn't have brooms, we could check out the mountains and find some driftwood as a quaffel for practice."
"Let's get under cover and talk later," frowned Hermione, checking the horizon. The sounds of the wind and waves breaking blended together into a calming thrum that filled the valley.
"Cover from what, fireflys?" said Ron.
"There," pointed Hermione, "I see a caravan by the water, let's move quick and find a place to camp."
Once they had the usual protections in place they relaxed and set up the tent. It was a nice change from the swampy fields and noisy overpasses of the south, a little colder perhaps, but all the fresher for it.
"Bit cold for camping, don't you think?" frowned Ron, looking at the lone caravan near the beach. "Who do you reckon they might be?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "We're camping aren't we?"
"Yeah, but not for the fun of it. Who comes out here this time of year for fun?" pondered Ron.
"I'm sure we'll each just mind our own business and get along just fine," said Hermione, "although someone should forage with the cloak before it gets too dark," she remarked as she contained a small blue flame in a jar to fight off the damp.
"I'll go." said Harry, looking to the horizon fading from orange to pink. "I'll get a look at our neighbour too and see if there's anything to worry about…."
"Harry, I don't think that would be…" started Hermione, standing up to face them.
"And I'll see if there's any real food I can nick from them." finished Harry with the cloak in hand.
"Hear hear!" proclaimed Ron, flopping down onto the bottom bunk. "I could do with something filling for a change."
Stepping back and forth, and fidgeting with the locket chain, Hermione pursed her lips and threw her hands up. "Just please keep quiet and stay under the cloak if you're going to go snooping, we don't know who these campers are."
Harry smiled at her reluctant approval, "I'll send up a flare if I'm really in trouble," then he set out to explore. It was only ten minutes to reach the caravan before he could hear faint radio music and a man humming along. There wasn't much to forage along the way, the only remnants of food he found were fish bones dropped by seagulls and trash wrappers from the summer tourists. There were plenty of sheep on the hills, although that was a little ambitious.
Once close to the caravan, he approached with as much stealth as he could muster. He wasn't sure why he was so tense, if this was a trick, then it was a really elaborate one at that. There was no way for anyone to know where Hermione was going to take them. And as long as he remained quiet, he could hope to take something back for dinner.
The camp had only one inhabitant. An old man in a folding wooden chair, sitting beside a fire with a blanket over his shoulders. There was an empty can of beans and a bottle of scotch nestled in the sand by his feet.
Pausing to take in his surroundings, Harry could see both the caravan and car were past their prime. There was not an abundance of anything to speak of. To steal from this man might even put him in danger with the cold wind blowing off the sea.
While patrolling the perimeter Harry stepped on a dry shell, rousing the old man from his gaze at the fire. The man dropped his blanket and searched the horizon with a keener eye than Harry would have expected. He could see the man take stock of his situation with quick darting glances: Fire - wind direction – beach - caravan door – path, then directly to Harry himself.
The man stood and looked straight at Harry before his eyes panned around the site again. Harry felt safe in the cloak, but he began to get worried when the man's gaze dropped to the ground, spotting his foot prints in the sand. When his attention momentarily left Harry, he quickly stepped to the side as the man traced the steps around his site.
"Come out and show yourself now, I don't want no jokes, you're welcome to sit a while if you're cold, just don't be playin games with me." said the old man.
Harry paused on a grassy knoll to hide his prints and thought for a moment. This could be a very clever trap, or a rare opportunity for food and news. Waiting on the grass, he looked at the camp site. There were no signs of magic he could see, he had a plain old battery radio, drove a plain old car, and his clothes looked like regular old muggle clothes.
Harry quietly returned down the path to their camp. He found the carefully placed stone at the edge of the path, turned and walked 20 paces and pushed through the protections to the sudden sound of Ron's radio and Hermione sorting through belongings she had removed from her bag.
"I've looked at the caravan site, and I think it's safe." said Harry to the others. "It's just an old man, alone by the water in a caravan. I don't think he's any danger, we should see if he has any news and food, but I want to go together."
"Are you sure?" asked Hermione.
"If there's real food, I'm going." moaned Ron.
Harry exhaled, "I'm pretty sure he's a muggle. I'll go first to introduce myself, but I want you two close behind in the cloak to cover me if something goes wrong. I'll pretend I'm lost, and you two come 'searching' for me soon after you think it's safe."
After agreeing, the three carefully marked the location of the tent and protections with some more rocks and branches. If they got separated, they could find their way back to camp in a hurry. The sun had set, leaving only a dull pink glow in the sky to light the way. They walked the path and paused near the caravan, Ron and Hermione crowded under the cloak before clearing the last hill by the camper.
Harry nodded to them, then approached the camper in broad sight, making no effort to conceal himself. When the man appeared peering around the camper to the sound of Harry's footsteps, Harry waved cheerfully.
"Hello sir, sorry to frighten you so late, I've gotten lost hiking, I'm looking for my friends."
The man stood and walked around the car as Harry approached.
"Ah, gotch-ya! A spy, no doubt!" laughed the man.
"No sir," returned Harry. "I come in peace." laughing nervously.
The man laughed in return. "A proper Englishman if I hear you correct, no doubt about your accent, I can hear a fake," he said, tapping his ear knowingly.
Harry searched for any sign if the old man was a muggle or a wizard in disguise. His eyes fell on the car's bonnet, to the badge in the shape of a griffin.
"And I see you drive a proper English car yourself Sir, a Vauxhall unless I'm mistaken." said Harry, recalling what his uncle used to say when people drove English made cars because they supported his drill business.
"And a good eye you have young sir indeed," said the man, patting the roof, "she's not as strong as she used to be, but the caravan gets here every year. All wheel drive too! I wouldn't be able to get out of the sand without it."
"You can't mistake the griffin," said Harry, pointing to the bonnet of the car, "it's a badge that still means something." said Harry, again, channeling the old rhetoric he remembered uncle Vernon prattling on about to Aunt Petunia in the evenings.
"Ah, you'll not see a German or Japanese car driven by these hands boy," said the old man, holding his hands out and balling his fists. "Not in my lifetime, which isn't saying much as I think this car's going to see another owner after I've gone."
Harry couldn't gauge his age in the dark, but the talk of spies and Germans and Japanese may place him as a war veteran. At least he could relax his guard knowing the man was not a wizard. If not for overhearing his uncle talk about the auto industry, Harry would not have been able to distinguish the car from any other, so he really doubted any wizard could have responded like the old man just had.
"Come closer, I'm getting a chill away from the fire, come sit down." waved the man as he walked back to the fire.
The man pulled another folding chair from inside the caravan and set it beside his own. Harry sat next to the fire and checked his surroundings as politely as possible for any signs of magic, but found nothing. Harry was satisfied the old man really was just and old man, a muggle on the beach.
He placed a couple more pieces of scrap lumber on the fire with nails still sticking out, then turned to face Harry.
"So, you're a lost soul out to breathe the sea breeze like me are ye?" said the man peering closely at Harry. "You seem a little world weary, only you're much younger than myself." smiled the old man. "You get yourself lost then? I've got a map, we can plot your path home, although." He tapped the bottle in the sand with his foot, "I won't be able to take you until morning if it's driving distance, I'm onto the strong stuff now, and there's enough in there to teach a rhino to rhumba if you'd like to share a glass."
"Thank you, but no thanks to drinks tonight." said Harry, taking the map.
"I'm not a sir anymore, but I appreciate the gesture." said the man, reaching down and twisting the bottle further into the sand. "I'm called Colin, but the boys used to call me Collie 'cause I could whistle two mountain peaks over to rally the men in a pinch."
Harry quickly assessed the map to be polite, then handed it back with a smile. "I'm not far from camp really, I'll be able to walk it tonight, and pleased to meet you too Colin." said Harry, extending his hand.
"Glad to hear it." frowned the old man while shaking his hand, expecting Harry to return his name. "It's a cold one this year, but I come the same time every year no matter the weather." He nodded defiantly. "So then, what brings you up this way, if not the whiskey… Englishman?" he said, raising an amused eyebrow.
Harry restrained a smile despite himself. "Some friends and I just wanted to get away from it all. Not ideal weather like you say, but we're happy for the quiet all the same."
"I hear ya boy. It's easier to ignore the damp and wind if your head is at peace. I can't stand the noise and crowds of the city myself." nodded the old man as he stoked the fire and added more scraps of wood.
"Hello, Harry, are you there?" said Hermione's voice from over the hillocks of sand. Harry flinched and wished he had asked Hermione to use a fake name.
"Friends of yours?" inquired the old man, looking over his shoulder to the shadows beyond the camper.
"Yes, I think I'm being rescued" laughed Harry.
"Come on over, lots of room for everyone." called the old man, standing up to greet them.
Ron and Hermione stepped into the light.
"Hello, hello everyone!" smiled the man, shaking their hands in turn, then stepping in the trailer, returning with some more folding chairs.
"Sit, sit! I can't do much about the wind, but the fire's been going all day, and you can warm up if you sit close."
They all took their place by the fire. Ron fumbling at first, trying to unfold his chair before Hermione reached over to help him.
"So," The old man smirked slyly. "what are you lot then? Scoundrels? Thieves? Tourists? Am I to provide food and lodging, or do you plan to flutter away in the wind after I feed you?"
Hermione spoke up, "We plan to flutter away tonight, but thank you for the offer."
"I could eat if you have food to spare." blurted Ron.
Hermione frowned, but turned to gage the man's reaction.
His smile grew and he gestured to the caravan. "Food, of course I have food, nothing fancy, but lots to spare. I hope you like beans, I brought a whole pack." said the man, smiling, then entering his trailer, returning with a pot and a several cans of beans.
Ron brightened at the mention of hot food, and Hermione relaxed in her seat. The old man began shifting wood around to make a place for the pot. Harry stepped up to assist, but the man shooed him away.
"No, sit down, you're guests here, I'll take care of the cooking." As he began pulling the tabs on the beans and pouring them in the pot. "It's nice to have some company. I sometimes have a passing family stop by to chat, but not this year, too cold I assume."
He poured the last of the beans in the pot and nestled it in the coals to cook. Ron was leaning forward and watching the beans carefully.
"I've been coming here every year for…for…I guess since '48. I wasn't alone then though. After the war I met up with the boys every fall to camp and catch up. But, people move on, people die, and now it's just me holding down the fort. They know where to find me if they want to come visit. I was the younger of the group, so it won't be long before I'm the last one."
He smiled knowingly. "I'm going to be 80 in a few years if you can believe it. I would never have believed it if you told me when I was your age. I didn't have a single grandparent make it past 72, and I just assumed I'd be dead by 50 anyway."
He gestured again to the caravan behind him. "I can't even afford the camper, but I'm not fit to sleep on the ground anymore, and a promise is a promise. I'll be here every year to meet the boys, or honour the dead until I join them myself. I ain't scared to die, never been scared o' that, I know I won't be alone on the other side, but I got too much life left to live to give it all away for free just yet."
He chuckled and stirred the beans. "Well, I've talked enough, what brings you folks out here? Certainly not the weather. It's a shame you drove so far. English, the lot of you, if I'm not wrong?"
The man looked around at the three of them. His smile dropped a degree when he met their somber expressions and Ron's arm in a sling under his jacket. "Ah… if I didn't know better, I'd say the three of you have seen the wet side of a trench, only I didn't know trenches were still in fashion. This isn't a fair weather camping expedition now, is it?"
Harry shrugged and looked at the others. "Well, not quite sir. You see - "
The man raised his hand. "You don't owe me an explanation. I've learned that I'm better off not knowing some things, and you'd be better off not sayin it. You lot remind me of the boys actually, so I'm just happy to have you."
Hermione looked up. The man retreated a degree and smiled. "And girl, you're not forgotten." He laughed, though there weren't any lasses in the trenches that I saw."
He straightened his shoulders and spoke to the group. "I'm 76 and still miss my friends. I been divorced twice and don't miss them much anymore, I got kids who somehow find the time to call once a year, but I miss my friends the most cause they're they only people I've ever trusted with my very life, no one else, and that's a hard thing to understand. I miss my kids, but they don't seem to miss me much, so it's hard to miss them back some days, but I still do of course."
The beans were beginning to smoke, and Ron shifted in his seat, eyeing the man and the spoon.
The man sighed and finally noticed the beans. "Oh, I suppose I should ring the waiter and tell them dinner is served." He wrapped his hand in a cloth and pulled the pot from the fire. After putting on a show of folding the cloth over his forearm like a serving man, he divided the beans onto plates and jangling around a bag of utensils, pulling out a handful of spoons, tossing one onto each plate.
Once settled, they all began to eat. Hermione carefully nibbling the too-hot beans. Harry taking a full spoonful, then coughing at the heat. Ron managed three spoonful's before going red in the face and spitting some back on his spoon.
"Slow down there soldiers," chided the man, "it won't take long to cool them down in this wind. You're eating like they're trying to run away from you.
The man stirred the beans around his plate and seemed to be amused by the new company around him.
"Never a better compliment than ravenous eaters. In fact, I've got some sausage and eggs for tomorrow, but I'll be happier know you're all fed tonight."
Ron's grateful look was enough to make all of them laugh.
"We can't thank you enough sir - " started Harry.
"Don't mention it. I always keep a little extra in case the old crew shows up."
He returned, set the sausage frying in a pan on the fire, then turned to Ron.
"You know, it's funny, you remind me of the old days. I knew a fellow like you, and he was just as hungry too. Honest man he was, never missed a meal, never stopped moving when he was up in the day; slept through cannon fire when he was down at night. And if you're anything like he is, you'll get past that injury in no time," pointing to Ron's arm sling.
"Now, you," he turned to Hermione. "There weren't no women in the trenches like the eastern front, but it was a woman like you who saw a friend of mine through the war. I don't know if he ever married her, but he kept a picture of her, and I think that kept him from givin up on the darker days, might have even saved his life. I've seen better men then him crumple with fear when they lose hope."
"You're harder to place now." peered the man intently when he faced Harry. "I can see a weight on your shoulders, but it's not my place to question it… You got a devil in you if I see things right." Harry sat back in the chair with raised eyebrows and the man continued.
"Now, we all got some sort of devil to fight. For me, I got the drink, but for some it's smokes or gambling or jumping off bridges, but we all got a devil, and I can see the devil got you on something."
Hermione shifted in her chair, and Ron stirred his beans, shifting his eyes from the man to Harry.
There was a click from around the hillock and Harry turned quick, pulling his wand out. After a tense moment, a sheep could be seen from the fire light before wandering off.
The man sat silent with wide eyes, staring at the wand before Harry relaxed again. Ron kept his hand on his pocket, wide eyed and tense. Hermione sat rigidly, ready to stand any moment.
"I knew there was something different about you lot," gaped the old man, suddenly looking years younger with a wonderous look on his face. "You're not the first I've met mind you, so don't go runnin off now. There was a couple strange fellas in the company that fought as hard as the rest of us."
Harry started tucking his wand away, then seeing the man's bewilderment, stopped and kept it on his lap. Ron shifted and looked at his beans again, Hermione still looked nervously back and forth.
"Bless me, I always knew it had to be real. Don't worry about putting it away. There can't be many of you left then, I've not seen a sign of magic since I was loading mortars on ox carts," said the man, astonished, running his hands through his hair. "I thought I saw a couple of men in the company use wands, but they were very secretive about them, and I never bothered to ask them."
Harry looked to the others for a sign, but they only returned with nervous shrugs. Harry turned back to the man and asked, "Sir, are you suggesting that there were wizards in the war along with muggles?"
"With what?" said the man, turning his ear.
"With the other soldiers. You said wizards fought alongside other soldiers all those years ago?"
"I suppose so, yes." He nodded incredulously, "If I think of it, I seen some funny behavior that could use some explaining." Then with a laugh he said, "bless me, it's actually real then?"
He smiled at the group. "Now, you can't be foolin an old man. Would you be so kind to show me a trick or two? I've never been sure it's actually real."
They eyed each other again, Harry began to raise his wand, but Hermione dismissed him curtly and pulled out her own wand.
"Wingardian Leviosa" she said, pointing to the bean covered spoon beside the fire, raising it a couple feet in the air, and setting it on the other side of the hearth.
The old man was laughing and crying a little. "Bless me, I never thought I'd see this side of 70, and I never thought I'd see something like that neither. How blessed am I to get to see that eh? Magic in my lifetime, Who would've thought the old stories were true?"
He continued "I'm the lucky one, ain't I? Half my friends were dead 'fore they were 25, the other half are close to dead now, and here I am on vacation, eating hot food with new friends and I'm learning that magic is still alive and I'm the luckiest man that ever lived!"
He began to cry in earnest now, holding his hand to his mouth.
"And you been here the entire time. I knew it was real, I seen…I seen….no." frowned the old man, looking around the group. "I once seen one of the boys send a smoky bird flying over the trees. And I couldn't make head or tails of it, the way the smoke held its shape for so long. Was he one of you lot then?"
The three of them looked at each other cautiously again. This time, Ron held his hand out to Harry's wand, and he pulled out his own.
"Is this what you saw sir?" asked Ron, sitting straight, pursing his lips while looking up in deep thought.
"Expecto Patronum" said Ron quietly, but determined. A jack russell terrier patronus leapt from the end of his wand and dashed around the fire before bounding against the wall of the caravan and dispersing in a puff of smoke.
The old man held his hand to his mouth again. "Yes, that's exactly what he did, except it was an eagle or falcon he sent, not a dog." He raised a finger to Ron, "do you choose the animal then?"
Ron smiled, "not quite, it just sort of happens."
"So why did he send it?" inquired the man, leaning forward.
"Message maybe." answered Ron. "He was probably sending a message home, unless there were dement-," mused Ron until he saw Harry and Hermione purse their lips in caution. Were their dementors in the war? Silently instilling fear in the trenches?
"And here we were feeling clever with our new radios in the trenches." chuckled the old man. "While your lot was sendin messages across the land and over the channel with a whisper and a wave!"
"What a blessing you three are to this old soul. I lose hope some days, and more often on the cold days. I might not know it, but I feel it. Something dark and damp is in the air again, I can feel the old tension and grief even if I can't see it yet."
"I see people losing faith in the streets more these days. They're fighting over silly things like parking spots or something they read in the news just a day before, petty arguments, just like the 30's all over again." He frowned and spat at the sand. "The first casualty of war is truth they say, and I believe it."
After a pause, Harry leaned forward "You would be correct sir." nodded Harry. "There is a war of sorts on the way, and we intend to fight."
The old man sat back and wiped his tears away. "War it is then… wouldn't be the first time, nor the last. Doesn't matter how small it is, it's still war. It's a shame you kids have to see war like we did, but I suppose it's bound to happen again after the old stories are lost and the same mistakes are made all over again."
In that moment the growing anxiety in all of them seemed to dissolve, and the heavy burden on their shoulders was replaced by a burning resolve that warded off the cold wind.
"I'm sorry I'm too old to help." sighed the old man, "I feel like we've failed you to make you fight all over again, I thought we could do better, but we failed, didn't we?"
"I'm sure you did your-" started Hermione, but the man just turned away, shaking his head.
"Well, I can't say I understand your fight, but I can see you need to fight all the same. I can't do much to help you now, but I can see you safe and fed tonight at least. Or…hang on a moment."
The man stood and went inside the trailer, rummaging about for a minute before returning with a box. He sat it on his chair and began removing items.
"I can't fight for you, but I can leave you with a little something to help you on the way. No better time to give these away to fine folks as yourself."
To Harry he walked over and presented a dented piece of steel, placing it in his hand, closing Harry's fingers over it.
"We were all issued a shaving mirror with our gear, and I worried that a bullet would pierce my heart, so I always kept this in my front pocket. On a warm day, I almost followed the boys' example and left my jacket with the convoy, but my guts were nagging me to keep the jacket on, so I put the jacket back on and dealt with the heat. That dent you see is the ricochet that would have ended me had I not listened to my guts, so I'll encourage you to follow my example and do the same young man."
Harry took the mirror, shook the man's hand and placed it in his front pocket.
"Step forward young lady," said the man, gesturing to Hermione. "To you, I present a scarf I intended to give to my daughter years ago, but the arrangement fell through and we've only talked on the phone since. Winter will be here soon enough, and I'll be glad to know someone is wearing it, especially if you're all going to be outside in this weather. It's heavy wool, finely made you see," he smiled, handing it over to Hemione, who smiled in return and stepped over to hug the man.
"Thank you," said Hermione. "It's early, but you've made it feel like Christmas morning all the same." The man stepped back, abashed.
"And for you, young man," said the man, facing Ron now, "I have a more practical gift." He handed Ron a small, weathered tin box with a printed scene of a small mill town on a river. "Not that you need reminding to eat, but this salt box saved my life too. I kept this dry no matter what, and filled it whenever I could." He frowned. "If you don't eat right, then nothing else works, see, you can't run right, you can't think straight, and you can't sleep well with the cramps in your legs, so you keep this safe for your friends."
Ron smiled and thanked the man, taking the box and stepping back.
They stood in a circle, holding their gifts and smiled grimly at each other.
"Sir, we can't thank you enough." said Harry, "you've saved us a great deal of trouble tonight, we haven't eaten – "
"Nonsense," interrupted the man. "I'll get you some food for the road too after we finish the sausage and eggs. You've made all the trouble of coming up here worth it this year. Sit a while longer and keep and old man company and we'll call it a draw," gesturing to their seats at the fire.
They all returned to their seats, turning their gifts over in their hands.
The old man turned the sausages over in the fire, then settled in his chair and poured another drink, laughing "You know, I'm left asking the question, who saved who tonight?"
End
Luka Stilheere