Lovely Lie

Traversing three-hundred-and-fifty-one levels with a rickety lift is petrifying, especially considering that Harry has a pair of unprotected little children with him, who are even more breakable than he is.

And he simply refuses to imagine how the thousand people or so that are currently locked behind shrunken trunks in a rolled-up tent would fare should he end up as some blood spatter down, down, down below.

Not that the tense fear is not somehow visible or tangible or something to the former intruder who is now a new acquaintance, Feemor, who said it’s okay to call him Fee. Because it is, and Fee is now trying to distance himself from his travel buddy without seeming so, curled up tight on one corner just like what Kan would do. He looks and feels like he is in pain, too, and it pains Harry in turn… which only makes Fee look and feel even more miserable, and it makes Harry feel guilty for causing that, and… well….

It's a long, long, long nearly four hours of abject misery riding in a small, somewhat fragile, swaying, rattling, stifling lift compartment over the abyss, in short.

And both youths gladly spring apart when the lift rattles and jerks to a stop, facing a corridor that is all metal and almost too oxygenated to be healthy.

Fear sluffs off Harry slowly but surely in every banging, echoing step his booted feet takes, however quiet he tries to step by habbit. And only when it’s a background simmer of worry about the unknown he’s entering does he realise that, not only physically, Fee has also retreated mentally from his mind. Because there were five presences in his mind aside from his own, with most of them being dormant in some way, but now there are only four and a tiny little thing nestled almost hidden among them all.

Guilt tries to encroach on him, then, but the feeling of `Serves you right. I never asked for you to invade my mind and stay there!` wins over it for now.

Also how Kan is uncertainly, timidly, cautiously requesting so politely through their bond, `Bees, please, Har’bu? Just a few?`

There’s no justification for the request, even though Harry can feel how hungry his little backpack rider is while they’re delivering the said request.

It makes him feel horrible, and far guiltier than how he made Fee – someone who is probably a couple of years older than he is and lots taller – shrink away in discomfort.

`Did I do something wrong that you’re now afraid of me, Kondo?` he asks back to the child, who has been fully submerged in the pack since the lift, even as he retrieves the box of worker bees from inside his waistbag and carefully pushes it into the pack, all without breaking his stride.

`No,` is the quick answer, wreathed in the feeling of `You should’ve known that. Why did you ask?`

Harry frowns, and deflects absent-mindedly when Fee sends him an unsure question of if the latter could help.

Kar’s imprint tells him that Kan’s politeness is warranted, that the child’s confusion of him asking them about it is likewise to be expected. And now that he’s stepping back and thinking deeply of it, he’s realising that it’s partly why he’s confused about it all.

Confused and a smidge interested but mostly upset. Because, from what Kar’s imprint has left him with, he knows that the children who were no longer in the “baby” category among the taung, namely past their third year, were expected to find their own food round the settlement, which was “home” by term and definition to them and thus supposedly safe, or at least ask their older siblings or cousins to find it for them. Because their parents were busy with other things, mostly guarding the “home” and fighting with the zhel, and the exercise was supposedly good to build the children’s character, independence and resourcefulness, especially as resources had gotten scarcer and scarcer throughout the decades, ruined by generational war and spite.

And, especially during the last decade or so of the taung’s life on Notron, it’s actually how their children got nabbed or killed by the zhell.

And Kan was probably terrified that Harry would order them to come out of the pack and fetch the bees from his waistbag themself, while a potential enemy – however kindly Fee has been behaving towards the three of them – is there.

`Damn it!`

It may be horrible of him to even think it, let alone wishing it, but he is glad that, from HK-47’s explanation as delivered by the “Galactic Basic”-learning team, the taung as Kan knows them are extinct, so are the zhel.

Still, there’s one remnant of that culture and situation here, and he must do something about it, in a way that the said remnant will not be able to misinterpret.

So, when Kan is done eating – `I ate three, Har’bu! You could check.` – and he has stowed the box back in the waistbag, he informs Fee that they need to stop because he needs to talk with one of his wards and check the nappy of the other. And then, when Fee has assented and they have found a good spot to rest for a while near a junction between a few paths, he informs Kan that they are going to rest.

No need to alarm the poor child unduly.

But, well, Kan is a sharp little one, it seems, for the child is alarmed anyway, and apologises for not waiting till rest time before eating.

He sighs, asks Kan to climb out of the pack once he is seated more or less comfortably on the cold “durasteel”, and snags the faintly trembling little form into his arms before they can jump onto the floor.

It’s not easy, fitting Kan into a snug embrace without removing the sling and a stirring Teddy from it. But it’s still doable, with careful manoeuvring, and the patient work is rewarded with Kan’s little, bony frame sagging into the hug.

He then buries his face into Kan’s tresses, take a deep breath of the child’s natural scent, and hums soothingly from deep in his chest like Kan usually likes.

Well, Kan usually falls asleep listening to the humming, but Harry’d settle for some relaxation, given their lack of privacy and familiar surroundings, also the previous tension that’s making him do this in the first place.

And, fortunately, Kan does relax, slowly returning the hug and nestling their face into his dragonhide cloak.

The two of them still need to talk, though. So, regretably, he coaxes the child slightly away from him and gazes into their wide, wide eyes seriously.

He doesn’t know how to impress on them how important food security is for a child. Not through facts like how Hermione would put it, in any case. But he does know how it felt for him, how he hoarded food items during his first ten years with the Dursleys and the following seven summers after. So he shares his experience with them, and finishes with his fervent wish that no other child will suffer it if he can help it.

And, in Kan’s case, he can.

`I just…. Please just do your best to tell me whenever you need or even want to eat, little one, and believe that I won’t punish you for it,` he pleads at the very end. `It’s not easy. It’s that way for me, too, with stocking up so very much food. But nothing worth doing is easy, really. We just need to do it until it becomes our new habbit.`

`So Har’bu brought all the farms in the boxes? So Har’bu will always have food?` Kan frowns.

Harry chuckles. Mentally, but also unfortunately physically, judging by how Fee – who has been considerately looking the other way, out into the corridor they came from – twitches and perks up interestedly.

`No mind. Later,` he tells the other youth. But his attention otherwise is still focused on Kan, who is looking up at him with rapt attention, and he confides to the child, `My friend – one of my closest friends – Hermione brought them for me. I didn’t know. I found out only a little while before I found you. Hermione did know about e and food, though.`

Kan briefly shrinks into themself upon the reminder of how they were trapped for so long in stasis. But they seem to rally themself using the previous titbits of information Harry has given them, for then they ask, `Har’bu’s friend’s name is too long! And why aren’t they here if they are Har’bu’s closest friend? Kan’s closest friends aren’t here because… because… we lived away from each other last year, and then the zhell took their homes, and Rim and Kal and Tap and Jon are now dead.`

The poor little one crumbles into misery right after, reminded yet again that they are now all alone being taung of the society they’ve known for all their short life. and, above all, it’s what gets Fee to peek behind his shoulder to check, it seems, for then he asks, his presence growing stronger again in Harry’s mind in the process, `Are you all well, Harry?`

`Kan is just remembering that they can’t go back to what once was,` Harry sighs in answer. `Can’t help it. Neither can I. – Now, would you mind if we camped here and slept it off? It seems a good place as any.`

He doesn’t think he’s ready to show Fee to his tent, and doesn’t think he’s ready to sleep in the open like this, either, but he – all of them, come to think of it again – needs to stop and rest and… clear the air in some way. Because they’ve traversed only three-hundred-and-fifty-one levels out of the thousands more, and he refuses to spend such a long, possibly harrowing trip in a polite mental and emotional distance with his outsider travel buddy.

Not to mention, there was no time to warn his folks, and they’re probably quite worried… or mad… or both… by now. So, either way, he must explain what’s been going on to them, or at least select few of them that can be trusted to disseminate the news clearly and as it is.

`Shite.`

That does tip the scale of options more towards letting Fee share his tent, doesn’t it? And Fee does look like he needs a long, thorough shower, or even a bath.

So Harry scrambles away with his little charges, fetches the tent from his pack, pitches it where he sat, warns Fee not to stray anywhere but the bedroom and the bathroom, and not to rummage anywhere within those two rooms either, then beckons the other youth in.

He has forgotten to warn Fee that the tent is much larger in the inside, though, and naturally saturated with magic and magical items.

Fee baulks even before he steps foot into the tent.

Harry sighs again, and somewhat reluctantly explains that he comes from a community in which magic is quite prevalent in daily use, although he himself did not grow up in the said community, `So please don’t ask me how the tent or anything inside works or was made. I just know how to turn the appliances on and off and stow the tent.`

But Fee is still silent and still, watchful – overly watchful, in Harry’s opinion – and stays outside.

And then Teddy lets out a whimper, and his presence nestled in Harry’s mind stirs with hungry-icky-`I want to be clean!`, so Harry circles half-round Fee and headbutts at the other youth’s back till Fee stumbles into the tent, then follows inside with an exasperated huff.

Fee’s mind flares with surprise-suspicion-fear-anger for a moment. But it dulls into confusion when Harry just stomps past him across the now-clean-and-empty common area after latching the tent’s door close, straight towards the bedroom’s door.

Continuing with the “ignore it till it goes away” theme, Harry sends to the other youth while busy changing and feeding a fussy Teddy, `Wait there for a little bit. I’ll show you to the bathroom after this. We can take turns in the shower. You can go first. You’re much dirtier than me.`

And, for once, Fee snipes back, `You’d be as dirty, too, after a month searching down here without whatever this is to clean up in. And then I met an ungrateful brat.`

Harry grins, absurdly happy that Fee has lost much of his unsure, timid persona, which is maybe fake and also maybe has some grain of truth in it. But, however reckless a few people in the wizarding world labelled him, the former “boy-who-lived” is not about to goad the potentially dangerous stranger and make an enemy out of the first unrelated age-peer he’s met in this place, so he gives the other youth’s presence a mental conciliatory pat and a promise, `I’ll be quick, okay?`

And he fulfils his promise! He is out in a jiffy, carrying a well-fed, much-happier, much-chattier Teddy without the sling, and trailed closely by an unsure, paranoid Kan.

This time, he graciously enters the bathroom first, too, with Kan swiftly switching from practically stepping on his heels to darting in front of him right into the bathroom towards the bath-tub. He shows where Fee can put dirty clothes for washing, gives the latter a few towels for showering and after, then shows how to set the shower water to personal specifications.

Fee is taken aback and baffled with how the buttons are operated with touches of magic, and he positively squawks – somehow – when water sluices down his head. But Harry politely holds back his snickering, and instead lavishes his attention on Kan and Teddy.

The little ones so love warm bubble bath, and he shamelessly indulges them, rocking a partially submerged Teddy gently in the water and additionally stirring the soapy solution with his submerged calves, an enticement for Kan to pounce on and ride and climb and… well, whatever the little menace likes to do, really.

They gain a quiet, rapt audience some time after, but he speaks nothing of it. Kan is joyful and Fee is content to just spectate, so it’s all fine.

He stops only when Teddy begins to fuss sleepily and Kan starts to wander round in the bath-tub, looking for additional entertainment. He nods in acknowledgement to a towel-wrapped Fee, ushers Kan in front of him to the bedroom, dresses Teddy for sleep, settles the baby for a nap in one arm while helping Kan dress with soft touches of his free hand – which the child doesn’t need but always enjoys – then rummages in the wardrobe for a pair of pyjamas he can enlarge for Fee, while Teddy is snoozing in his crib and Kan is… using the furniture as some sort of obstacle course.

The other youth watches on quietly all the while, his presence opaque but somehow also churning. The shield cracks only when Harry triumphantly brandishes the pyjamas he’s been searching for and, with frequent glances at Fee to gauge the size, begins to enlarge them with motions of his wand and muttered spells.

`You were not joking when you said your people use the Force in daily activity,` he sputters, stunned and incredulous and awed and… afraid?

Harry pauses and cocks his head. `Why would I joke about it?`

`Perhaps because you’re demanding the Force to do your bidding when you do it?` Hysteria is now creeping into Fees mental tone.

Harry huffs. `No.` He is quite certain about this. `I don’t know what the Force is, but I demand nothing from nobody. Well, perhaps from myself, but nobody else.`

`Then what do you call what you’re doing?` Fee retorts.

Harry glances at the almost-to-size pyjama top and bottom he’s been painstakingly enlarging for the lump, then glares at Fee. `Well, I’m enlarging my pyjamas for you. Do you want clothes that’s not a thread away from shredding into pieces or not?`

Fee huffs back and crosses his large arms in front of his equally large chest. `Well, if you’re demanding the Force to do it for you, then no.`

Harry throws the two pieces of clothing at him with a growl that unfortunately attracts Kan’s attention. `See if your force-thing whinges at you for the ‘abuse’ I’ve done to it,` he snaps, stung, and stomps away from the wardrobe to try to distract Kan from his first-ever spat with his travel buddy.

The confused, wondering noise Fee makes a moment after is vindictively satisfying. Harry doesn’t look away from building a pillow-and-blanket fort for Kan on the bed, though. It’s far preferable for him to wallow on Kan’s simple, unrestrained joy instead of his own feelings or Fee’s.

The nice bonus is: He is much calmer when Fee approaches him at length, unsurely – for a change! – holding the two pieces of sleepwear in either hand, asking if he’d finish the enlargement.

`It won’t stay this sized for more than half a day, and I don’t know if too many resizings will ruin it,` he warns when he returns the pyjamas to the repentent lump, now properly resized. `I’ll find something more permanent for you later, since it seems we won’t get to the top some time soon.`

`Uh, no, you don’t have to do that. And, uh, thank you for the sleepwear,` Fee sputters, blushing, as he gingerly takes the pyjamas back. `I – thank you for letting me examine it for myself, too. But I can wear my own clothes later, when they’re dry. And I can source something for myself later on, too. I just…. Thank you, for this bit of comfort. I… appreciate it. highly. And, uh, I apologise, for my attitude earlier.` He flushes deeper, down to his neck, and looks away. `I, just, it’s… different, from how I and my people perceive the Force, and, uh, it… caught me off guard. It shouldn’t be an excuse, I know! I… just….`

`It’s been a long month?` Harry can’t help but soften up. He intimately knows how a mere twenty-four hours could feel like it’s stretched into a decade.

`And then some,` Fee grouses, and there’s a feeling of bitterness, hurt and expected-but-unwanted fact behind the utterance, but Harry politely overlooks it.

They’re still strangers to each other, after all, and Harry Isn’t about to repay the spat-instigation, especially so soon. He’d rather cuddle his little charges somewhere and sleep.

Before that can happen, though, he must erect the portable ward-bubble, preferably after he’s found a place for Fee to sleep. The other youth now looks dead on his feet! Probably from what Hermione claimed as “post-adrenaline crash.”

Well, he knows that intimately, too.