Chapter 11
“And try for inconspicuous, we don’t want to draw attention, if we can avoid it. Bad enough you having long ginger hair.” He muttered the last sentence as ducked past Fred and climbed down the ladder.
“Once you have clothes sorted, give me a yell and I’ll see to wands for you.” He called as he slid Teddy into his cradle, then started cutting vegetables for a stew.
~~~
April 15th 2920
“Okay, that’s enough.” Harry stepped back and Fred groaned in relief. “Not bad, Fred, not bad at all. I think we can safely say that swords are your specialty. Not bad with throwing axes, though. Your scribe-work is probably better than mine, Tavric did say I needed more on numbers and that’s something you got with Wheezes. But your knife-work is disgusting. Hand to hand is… meh. Archery is non-existent. I think we can work with that.”
“Yeah, how?” Fred was flopped back on the ground, his chest heaving. “And when the hell did you learn all this crap?”
“Hermione went to…” Harry paused, goblin was a bad word in middle-earth, “…Gringotts... for help and while they couldn’t do much, they did what they could. And that(?), was something that Kingsley called ‘training memories’. They sent me six memories. Two that Hermione asked for. Occlumency/legilimency. And paediatric childcare. The other four were part of the cost, they’d help but only if they got to choose the extra memories that were sent. Hermione had no idea what they’d included. But I got… Archery. Sword-fighting. Knife-fighting. And hand-to-hand fighting.”
“Huh…” Fred grunted.
“When Tavric had me trialled, they added in the axe-fighting and -throwing. And the knife-throwing, pretty much as standard.”
“And you want to do that to me?” Fred asked.
“Kinda.” Harry nodded. “You’ve got clothes, so you almost look the part, but without beads to show your Craft and levels, no dwarf is going to take you seriously. You’d be treated as a child.”
“Yeah, not happening.” Fred muttered.
“No.” Harry agreed. “So that means… Beads. We can let people think you were on the same ship, as Teddy and I, imply that you thought we were all dead. We got separated in all the mayhem. It’s all true, just not about the actual storm. But we have to find a group of dwarves with more than one Master, to sign off on your Trial.”
“Right.” Fred nodded. “How do we do that?”
“I can ask the horse traders if there’s a dwarven caravan’s summer camp, nearby? If there is, we’re right. If not, we have to decide if we go north and find Lavender, or whichever girl it is, or west to Barric’s camp.”
“You do that and I’ll see to lunch?” Fred offered.
“You any good at cooking?”
“I’m not in mum’s league but I’m better than any of my brothers. I won’t poison us.” Fred assured.
“Right, let me get Teddy a clean nappy and I'll head over, right now.”
“We are so lucky.” Harry said when he returned with the herd-master. “Oh, this is Mashal, he’s Herd-Master for this fair. He’s going to dose Dancer and Delilah with a fertility potion so they can go stud, tomorrow.” He quickly caught the two mares in question and tied them off to a rail, giving each a booster/treat for their good behaviour.
“Ah…?”
“Never mind, I’ll explain that later.” Harry waved the subject off. “There’s a dwarf camp, about a mile from town, on the north side, but they’re planning to move on, in a few days. Mashal has a sulky that we can borrow, to go visit them. I say we go after lunch, find out if they can help and then we can make plans.”
“Cool.” Fred nodded and handed Harry a bowl of salad with shredded chicken tossed through it. “I put a stew together for dinner. It can sit on the edge of the stove and just tick over for the whole afternoon.”
“Master Harry?” Mashal asked. “May I take yon mares back to the fair? Twill be easier to see to dosing and servicing them, there.”
“Of course, Herd-Master.” Harry said. “We’ll be along with a pony… um… Probably Iris or Flora, in about a half hour?”
“Nay worries, I’ll have the sulky out front of me tent for ya.” Mashal said and untied the mares. “Iffen you drop by the tent in the morning, we can fill out the paperwork and ya can witness the servicing. The potion we use has a high take-up rate, of the four-hundred-twenty-seven times I’ve used it, only twice as a mare failed to catch.”
“And how soon will we know if they… caught?” Harry asked.
“If we put ‘em to a stud in the morning and they’re still twitching in the evening, we knows they won’t catch. If they’re tired and sluggish, by sunset, they’re gonna catch.” The herd-master explained.
“So we’ll know by sunset tomorrow, either way?”
“Yessir.”
“Excellent.” Harry grinned. “We’ll see you shortly.”
“Yessir.” The man repeated and led the mares away.
As they drove into the dwarven camp, Fred glanced at Harry, both surprised and not really surprised that his darkhaired friend was calm and confident. “You trust these people?” He asked.
“Never met them, Fred, but so far? Dwarves have done right by us.” He grunted. “Actually most people have… whether that’s this whole world, or just this area…?”
“Or just Potter luck?” Fred chuckled. “I remember Hermione’s reaction to the felix felicis and you not drugging Ron…”
“Yeah, that was good.” Harry threw his head back and laughed, getting a few smiles from the dwarves they were approaching.
“Greetings, young ones.” One older dwarf came froward. Harry threw a quick glance at the dwarf’s beads before he spoke.
“Greetings, Master dwarf.” He bowed his head slightly, letting the right side of his head tilt towards the dwarf, just a fraction.
“Ah, my apologies, young Master.” The dwarf gave him a warmer smile. “I am Fundin, son of Farin, son of Borin, of the line of Durin. What can we do for you?”
“Master Fundin, I would like to speak with you and any other Tarbûnels that are here.” Harry said. “It is in regard to my friend, here. And his complete lack of beads and any possessions, bar what I have provided him with, this morning.”
“Lad?” Fundin looked concerned.
“T’is this matter, that I wish to speak of.” Harry said.
“Then we shall hear you.” Fundin said. “Come down and sit with us.”
“Fred? Stay here, with Teddy, please?” Harry asked. “Should only take a few minutes to catch them up and then we’ll call you down. Okay?”
“Okay.” Fred looked a little uncertain, though.
“Shall we sit there?” Fundin pointed to a group of logs just a few feet away.
“That would be appreciated.” Harry gave the older dwarf a smile and nodded.
“I’ll be back in a minute or two.” Fundin said. “Just let me round up the other Tarbûnels.” The dwarf nodded and turned towards the tents. He returned with three other dwarves and a dwarrowdam. “Young Master. Some introductions?”
“Of course, Master Fundin.” Harry agreed. “I am Harry, son of James, son of Fleamont. For the moment, let’s leave my friend and the baby out of this, at least until I explain a little.”
The five masters exchanged looks and one by one, they nodded.
“Very well,” Fundin spoke for them, “As I stated... I am Fundin, son of Farin, son of Borin. My fellow Tarbûnels are Garfur, son of Lufur, son of Telfur. Jessan, son of Deslan, son of Kerran. Kartin, son of Morrin, son of Perrin. And Samris, daughter of Maller, son of Korvin.”
“Greetings, Masters.” Harry gave them a deeper bow than he’d given Fundin earlier.
“What did you wish to speak of, young Master.” Fundin asked.
“Last month there was a large group of dwarves that sailed from Pelargir, bound for the Grey Havens and the Blue Mountains.” Harry started.
“Aye.” Fundin said. “They encountered the worst storm to hit, in over a century.”
“Yes.” Harry agreed. “It was bad. The ships barely were barely out of the western mouth of the Anduin before it hit, one was driven onto the rocks of Tolfalas. Of the near fifty souls aboard, only eight survived. The other ships sent tenders and picked up who they could. But even so, the losses were great. The flotilla’s lead ship was gone, so the remaining captains met and one was promoted to lead. He knew that the flotilla no longer had the supplies to reach the Grey Havens, but the winds were driving them westward, so returning to Pelargir was not possible. He decided to make for Dol Amroth, but he knew that the harbour masters there were strict, they wouldn’t tolerate passengers not on a manifest, and disliked unscheduled ships. Combine the two and he feared for those that had been plucked from the waters and offered to send them ashore, away from the harbours. Teddy and I landed on Drowned Barrel Beach and made our way to Trade-Master Tavric’s, all I had was a pack on my back, Teddy on my chest and one bag that had hooked on my clothes.”
There were gasps of shock and alarm.
“Master Tavric helped me…” He told them everything from his arrival at Tavric’s, through to the day before.
“And where does the redhead come into this, young Master.” Fundin asked.
“Fred was with me, until everything went wrong. In the mayhem, I thought him dead.”
“Oh, Mahal…” Samris whispered.
“Until he stumbled into me, yesterday, I thought he was dead.” Harry repeated. “He had the clothes he stood in and not a thing else. No beads in his hair, no weapons at his belt, no ledger, no purse, no bag, no food, nothing. Unlike me, who had managed to grab a pack, Fred, was knocked-out cold, he woke in a ditch of water, with no idea how he got there or even where he was. And none of the locals seemed to want to help him.”
“But you do?” Fundin asked.
Harry frowned. “He’s like a brother to me. We lived and trained together. Of course I want to help him.”
“Ah.” Fundin nodded. “I understand, but sharing what you’ve worked hard for? Is he worth it?”
“Oh, yes.” Harry laughed. “Definitely. But I’m not going to give it to him, he’s going to work for it, just like I have.”
“Oh?” Samris raised a brow in question.
Harry snorted. “I have a wagon, two carts and ten ponies to see to. Not to mention that I have Teddy to care for. I’ll help Fred get set up, buy him a cart and maybe a pair of ponies, pay him a small wage and he will stay with me for a year, helping me tend my herd and drive a rig for me. If nothing else, he’s a halfway decent cook.”
“Ah.” Fundin grunted and nodded. “Fair enough. And what do you want of us?”
“He needs to replace his beads and the only Beadsmith I know of, is in Dol Amroth. Plus, I can’t lay my sigil to what I can’t do.” Harry grimaced. “He’s better with a sword than I am.”
“You want us to see to his Trials?”
“I’m hoping you can verify his levels and lay your sigils to that. He doesn’t even have a ledger, for a Beadsmith to check. He has to start completely from scratch.”
“Ah.” Fundin seemed to make the sound a lot and make it mean a lot. This time it was understanding and acceptance. “That’s…” he looked at the others and again they all nodded, “… that’s something we can help with. Call yon lad down and fetch the babe, we’ve things to discuss.”
“Thank you.” Harry grinned and darted over to the sulky. “Hey, Fred. Give me Teddy’s cradle and get down here. We’ve plans to make.”
Four hours later and Fred lay on the ground. Again. Heaving for breath. Again. Only this time, it hadn’t been Harry that had been standing opposite him, but a series of unnamed dwarves.
“Not bad, lad, not bad at all.” Fundin nodded, unknowingly echoing Harry’s words. “Get yourself up and we’ll see to some paperwork.”
Fred hauled himself to his feet and staggered across to flop down beside Harry, who sat on a wide bench at a long table.
“Well, Harry, you were pretty spot on.” Fundin said. “He’s dangerous to everyone, including himself, with a bow or trying to fight with knives. Best off to forget either of them, or if you’re of a mind, you can teach him, yourself. Hand-to-hand is utrab level, but only just. Throwing knives or axes are good, but not great, as is axe-fighting. They’d get him a tarbûn bead, though. Sword-fighting and scribe-work… I’ve seen few that are able to master both and certainly not someone so young. But he has, although his scribe-work is only in Common and not Khuzdul, but growing up in a village of Men, that’s understandable. Unfortunately we can’t lay a sigil to Tarbûnel, for a scribe that only works in Common. Tarbûn, yes, but not Tarbûnel, perhaps something for him to work towards, later. For sword-fighting, easily Tarbûnel. His style is odd, but very effective.”
“So… utrab for hand-to-hand. Tarbûn for scribe, throwing knives and axes, both throwing and fighting. Tarbûnel for sword-fighting?” Harry asked.
“Aye.” Fundin nodded.
“And you’ll lay your sigil to that?”
“Aye.” Fundin nodded again.
“And you’ve a Beadsmith, here, she’s been working on his Family beads since you agreed to trial him.” Harry said.
Fred picked his head up off the table. “I told her that I like the style of beads that Harry’s using as Mourning Beads and asked her to work with him on recreating designs for my Family beads. That Harry knew my family well and could tell her pretty much everything she didn’t want to know, about them.” Fundin laughed at this. “I’m coming out tomorrow to work with her on the finer details. She also said that she has dark-tempered steel Craft-beads ready to go, and that I can replace them later, with whatever colour I like, if I change my mind.”
“Then let us see to a document ledger for our new Tarbûnel, shall we?” Fundin gestured to a small book that sat in front of a quill and ink.
“Much appreciated. So much…” Fred gave the dwarf a tired smile.
Fundin laughed again, softer this time and picked up the quill. He wrote his name and drew in his sigil, blotting the ink dry, closing the book and handing it to Fred. “You might want to think about a waterproof tin for that, in future.”
“I’ll be doing just that.” Fred assured him.
“Your craft beads, young Master.” He handed over a small bag. “No doubt you’ll be wanting to wash and clean up, before you put them in.” He looked at the grass and mud in Fred’s hair.
“Oh, yes.” Fred nodded. “It’s trickling down my back and getting itchy, already.” He shuddered and wriggled his shoulders in distaste.
“Then, I’ll say good evening to you both. I suggest that Master Fred, be here early in the morning. We’re planning on breaking camp at dawn and Beadsmith Kasha will only stay until your Family Beads are done, before following us. She hopes to catch us, before the evening is on us.”
“I shall.” Fred nodded and went to fetch Iris, from where she was grazing and brought her over to the sulky.
“You’re headed for Linhir, correct?” Harry asked.
“Aye.”
“Just past Oak Gap, there’s a village with lime kilns along the northern edge of the road, don’t stop there.” Harry said. “Dwarves aren’t welcome. Everywhere else? I was welcomed and permitted to trade. Oh, and there’s a semi-permanent dwarven settlement just this side of Ethring, off to the north. They’re good people and I’d appreciate you checking on young Kalin... on the quiet. His mother’s failing and his father is taking to drinking more and more, and Kalin’s suffering for it.”
“Do you want us to take him in?” Fundin asked seriously.
“Not unless he asked you to, otherwise I told him to stick it out until his mother dies. He planned to come find me then, wants me to train him in knife-fighting.”
“Who Trialled you?” Fundin tilted his head in question.
“I stood against Karol Black-Ear for eleven minutes, twelve seconds.” Harry replied, getting to his feet and lifting Teddy’s cradle into the sulky.
“…oh…” Fundin gasped. “That’s no easy feat, Master Harry.” He used the word ‘Master’ with a lot more respect, now.
“No it wasn’t.” Harry agreed and began to lay Iris’ harness over her, while Fred held her head and watched Harry’s movements closely. Once the mare was between the shafts and all the buckles and straps were in secured, Harry turned back to Fundin and accepted the contract for Fred’s Trial. As he’d been Fred's sponsor and the one to pay, he was the one to get the contract, it was up to him, if he wanted Fred to have it, not Fundin.
“My thanks for your service, this day and may Mahal bless you and yours.” Harry said formally, bowing to the dwarf.
“Eru’s blessing on you and yours, Tarbûnel.” Fundin stepped back. “We'll look in on your utrab.” He turned and walked away, leaving Harry and Fred to climb up into the sulky and head back to their camp and Harry’s wagon.
~~~
April 16th 2920
Fred and Flora trotted back into camp, an hour after midday. Fred unharnessed the mare and hung the harness on the vacant peg on the back of Harry’s wagon and led the mare into the roped off yard. Soon Iris was wandering across the pen to check her friend over, after the solo outing, and to see if there were any treats on offer. Fred was far more of a sucker for big brown eyes than Harry and was soon dishing out treats to all the mares. Then he headed back to the wagon, he had notes to make, Harry was insisting that Fred have a way of earning his own income.
Harry had his locksmithing, but what was Fred going to do?
After some thought, Fred came to the conclusion that pranks just weren’t going to cut it. Not here.
What else could he do?
He was good at potions, but that really required a permanent lab space. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that you could take on the road, and there was also the possibility that Snape might still turn up. Snape was the potions Master, not him.
After an hour of staring at nothing, he decided that wood was going to be his thing. Wooden toys, wind chimes, teapot trivets, pot stands, needle cases, bowls, spoons. Maybe small boxes…
He stood up and turned around, looking at the trees that surrounded the camp. He trotted towards the treeline, absently pulling out his wand as he went. A bucket whizzed through the air to land in his hand, then pieces of fallen timber were assessed and some were shrunk while others were ignored.
“Whatcha doing, Fred?” Harry’s voice asked, seemingly from nowhere.
“Harry!” Fred spun around to look for his friend. “Where can I get some bamboo?”
“Bamboo?” Harry blinked. “What do you want bamboo for?”
“With bamboo I can make pot holders, or trivets, or placemats, or bathmats, or combs, or wind chimes, or boxes, or dip pens, or baskets, or-”
“Okay, okay.” Harry held up his hands. “I get it. you can make things with it.”
“Yes!” Fred grinned, excitedly. “Where can I get some?”
“I don’t know if this world had bamboo, Fred.” Harry watched the redhead’s face fall. “Give me a minute.” Harry picked up one of the discarded pieces of timber and flicked his wand into his hand. “I don’t know if this is going to work or not, but I’m going to try. Okay?”
“Okay…?” Fred had no idea what Harry was talking about, but if Harry was going to do something, Fred was going to watch, the darkhaired wizard had a way with magic that defied explanation.
Harry transfigured the piece of timber into a bucket and with a swish of his wand, filled it with soil from the edge of the trees. Then Harry’s gaze focused on the dirt and after nearly a minute of his almost silent muttering, tiny shoots of green poked their way up through the soil, reached for the sky. After letting the shoots grow into visibly recognisable bamboo stalks, he made slicing gesture and the tops of the stalks fell away and faded into nothing.
As they did, Fred frowned, he heard Harry muttering… herbology charms? Charms to speed up growth, charms to encourage the plants to pull additional nutrients from the soil, charms to optimise nutrient intakes, charms to warm the soil, charms to pull moisture from the air into the soil and he just kept going. And every so often he’d cast a slicing charm and the tips of the bamboo would fall.
When the first tips actually began to hit the ground, Harry heaved a sigh and let the bucket slide to the ground. “How much more do you want? Right now, I mean?”
“Uh… six ten-foot lengths?” It was more a question than an answer, but Harry just nodded and kept whispering. When a dozen ten-foot lengths lay on the ground and didn’t vanish as soon as the slicing charm hit them, Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was silent for the first time in nearly twenty minutes.
“I need to go into town, don’t touch the bucket, but you can gather up any fallen pieces, they should be fine to use.” Harry waited less than a minute before he spoke again.
“What? Why?” Fred asked.
“We need a half barrel,” Harry was already reaching for Onyx’s headcollar, “to keep your bamboo in, until we have a permanent base, somewhere.” He was harnessing the black mare while he was talking. “You’re on Teddy watch for the next hour. But he’s fed and has a clean nappy, so he should sleep through.” He slipped the mare into the shafts of the borrowed sulky and secured the straps. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He leapt up onto the sulky’s footplate and picked up the reins. “Onyx, move out.” And the mare was in motion.
“What the…?” Fred just shook his head, Hermione and Ron were the ones that knew how Harry’s head worked, not him. “Right, pack up the bamboo pieces, Fred. Watch the baby, Fred. Try and figure out how Harry’s brain works, while you’re at it, Fred. Oh and don't burn dinner, either, Fred.”
Harry was back inside the hour and Teddy was still asleep.
“Great,” Harry grinned, “let’s get your bamboo sorted. Wingardium leviosa.” Harry levitated a half-barrel down from the sulky, once it rested on the ground, Fred could see that it was partially filled with what looked like potting mix or the equivalent.
“Harry?”
“Just a sec, Fred.” Harry answered. He turned to the bucket of bamboo and cast a strong finite at it. It shimmered and blurred, the timber reverting back to an almost rotten branch, covered in soil and surprising Fred, a fairly well grown clump of young bamboo.
“How’d you do that?” The redhead asked.
Harry sighed and explained. “Started off with conjuring a couple of shoots, encouraged them to grow and sprout, sliced them off, so they’d sprout again. Kept doing it until they were more natural plant than conjured, ‘til the pieces stayed after being sliced off. Now it’s a natural plant and will continue to grow like one.”
“How the hell did you come up with that idea?”
“I didn’t, Neville did, way back in first year.”
“Neville? Longbottom?”
“That’s him, plant genius, he is.” Harry grinned. “And it’s thanks to him that you have bamboo.”
Fred blinked and shook his head. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, Longbottom.”
Harry watched as Delilah and Dancer staggered back into his camp, led by Mashal and his son. Neither mare looked capable of doing anything more than just barely staying on their feet.
“Af’ernoon, Master Harry.” Mashal said as Delilah heaved an exhausted sigh and sank to her knees before toppling over onto her side. Dancer couldn’t even bothered to sigh as she followed her herd-mate and collapsed.
“I take it they’re going to catch, then?” Harry laughed.
“Aye.” Mashal nodded. “I’d say so.”
“Anything I need to know about? We were hoping to head off, tomorrow.”
“They’ll still be tired but as long as ya aren’t putting them in harness, they’s ‘ll be fine. Give ‘em, two or three days and they’s ‘ll be back to normal. Ya’ve five or six months before ya need to worry about babying ‘em. More if ya keep the feed and light work up to them.”
“Excellent.” Harry grinned.
“I’ve written up the breeding for each foal and ya can add it to the mare’s papers or keep it separate, as ya wish.” Mashal handed over two rolls of parchment and Harry accepted them laid them on the table. “Iffen you want document tubes for ‘em, Nickal as runs the stationery shop in town, sells ‘em.”
“I picked up a couple, this morning after I left you, I felt so positive about it.” Harry shrugged as Mashal chuckled. “Oh, hush. Your numbers were responsible for that.”
“I’s been meaning to ask,” Mashal scratched at the back of his neck, “I’m looking to sell the sulky. Ya interested?”
“Well that depends on the coin, Mashal.”
“A Sovereign.” Mashal answered.
“Just one?”
“Aye, it’s not the money I need, but I’ve no real use for it. It’s too small for me or my family. Or for pretty much anyone other than a dwarf and with the little one, it might come in handy.”
“Alright, Mashal. I’ll take it.” Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out his little purse, fetched out the appropriate coin and handed it over. He figured that once they were out of town, either he or Fred could shrink the sulky down and tuck it away in a stasis box, somewhere. If they needed it, they had it, if not, it wouldn’t take up much space.
~~~
April 17th 2920
As they went through Pelargir, early in the morning, Harry casually did his Summons. This time into an unused pouch, he had plans to split what he got from this and what he got from Minas Tirith, between Fred and whoever else they found.
They would need it to create new lives for themselves and while he could split everything he had, why should he? He’d done the Summons. He’d done the magic to store everything Summoned. He’d done the sorting. He’d sold what wasn’t usable by the only ones present at the time.
Splitting what he had already sorted would be a nightmare and to be brutally honest, he just didn’t want to. He wasn’t alone anymore, he had Teddy to think of, too. And call him selfish, if you must, but hadn’t he earnt the right to be a little selfish?
And he wasn’t really being selfish, he hadn’t known that there was anyone else from Hogwarts, in middle-earth, had he? He could just say, ‘everything from Pelargir is Fred’s’ and ‘Lavender or whoever, gets everything from Minas Tirith’ but what if there was someone else in Minas Tirith? Or even a second person in Erui Crossing, just further away than Lavender?
It was at that point that Harry realised that he could name Lavender in his Point-me’s and grunted in disgust with himself.
“Harry?” Fred asked from beside him. They’d contemplated having Fred drive the feed cart, but that would mean re-attaching the seat and giving up floor space in the cart’s bed. It was more important to feed the ponies, than to have two drivers. After all, Harry had managed quite well by himself.
“I just realised that I can do Point-me’s to Lavender… and use her name, instead of just Hogwarts trained female, as an identifier.”
“…oh…” Fred exclaimed almost silently. “That… yeah, that makes sense and why the bloody hell didn’t we think of that earlier?”
“Cause we’re stupid and too used to having Hermione doing the thinking for us?” Harry asked in reply.
“Yeah, yeah…” Fred muttered. “How long’s it gonna take us to get to… Erui Crossing(?), wasn’t it?”
“Seventy plus miles? At least three days, possibly four.” Harry grumbled. “If we start early, take a break over midday and stop at sunset or later, we might be able to make it mid-afternoon day after tomorrow. But I can’t see any way of making it there any earlier than that.”
“Bollocks.” Fred grunted.
~~~