The Whole Wide World, Part 3
Chapter note: Artistic license for the interior and facilities of Queen Mary 2, with advance apologies to any offended party. For the sake of this story, whether or not some facilities are there, they are still there. I am shamelessly claiming the old argument of “It is fanfiction, folks.” - Rey
RMS Queen Mary 2, 10th May 2004
HERMIONE GRANGER
Harry, where are you? We are worried! You told nobody and the elves refused to say anything. We know you are still alive only because they are calm about your absence.
HERMIONE GRANGER
Harry, if you do not tell me by tomorrow, I shall tell the Ministry that you are missing. Please respond. I hate telling the Ministry. They are already hunting you.
HERMIONE GRANGER
Harry, my cousin Janet contacted me today. Did you meet her? Where? When? Why did you not tell me? Thank you for not telling her about my parents, but please tell me where you are.
HERMIONE GRANGER
Harry, what are you doing with Sai’yo? Why did you bring just him? We agreed to travel together, didn’t we? Why didn’t you wait for me and the others? Why didn’t you take some other Jaffa for protection?
I open my communication journal only now that Sai’yo and I are comfily ensconced in our room in the ocean liner headed to New York, and I find that most of the many messages inside came from Hermione.
Within the nearly seventy-two hours since I skedaddled from my comfort zone among my properties and people, she has sent me a hundred and forty-three messages, along the same vane as “Where are you? What are you doing? Why didn’t you bring me?” and a number of updates, also quite a few threats to organise search parties in one way or another.
Huh. Her blending with Arga only makes her nosier and pushier, apparently.
And it doesn’t do well for my stress level.
Then again, Sai’yo seemed rather stressed – in that quiet, unobvious way of his – when I confronted him about him not wanting to choose and participate in conversations that involve strangers.
What a pair of sorry sods we are.
And presently, one of the sorry sods is tied up doing his House-work, while the other is…. Hmm, he’s… humming in his sleep?
It’s a soft, peaceful melody, unobvious but sneakily permeating, just like he is. But the hummer is laid out comfily on his back under his blanket, with eyes closed and face relaxed, and breathing softly, shallowly.
In fact, the notes are rather similar to what I used to make myself and him fall asleep in my nest at Black Lodge, and the effect likewise. It makes me more relaxed and even a little drowsy, at least.
Sneaky bugger. He might have noticed me scowl at my communication journal and… sought to alleviate it, perhaps, while lullabying himself to sleep. Or maybe he’s seeking to avoid the turbulance as we’re departing the harbour, presently. Or maybe both.
In any case, his version of the Song makes me not in the mood to rant and rave at Hermione… or reply to her at all, to be honest, but I must, or she’ll really do one of the things that she threatened.
So….
HARRY POTTER
I am safe. Sai’yo is safe. I asked the elves not to tell people where we are and not to come unless I call for our safety and privacy. We are adventuring. No need to look for us.
And then, with a last look at the “balcony room” that we got for ourselves – with lots of Notice-Me-Nots, also an anonymous deposit equal to the rate in the company’s bank account – I stash the journal away in my pack and lay myself down in my bed beside Sai’yo’s.
The ships thrums and shakes and rolls, accompanied with a few toots of its horn, and still, Sai’yo’s humble little song permeates the little, half-stolen cabin.
I smile contentedly at the whitewashed ceiling and let my eyelids droop. A moment after, my own little song joins his in harmony.
RMS Queen Mary 2, 13th May 2004
For these four days, I can only say: “Thank magic for all the favours.” Because, not only is our room hidden by magical concealment – now upgraded to a ward of my own moulding, just below Fidelius – and our faces likewise, but our packs have also been expanded to contain all the trinkets, books and single photos that we have acquired in all the ports where the liner stopped by. Now that we are crossing the Atlantic ocean, all the things we bought serve to entertain us, as well, while we are not exploring the whole ship and… chatting – or rather, me trying to pry some honest, blunt, willing answers from Sai’yo.
Unfortunately, the interrogation is the least amount of distraction that I manage to have, in all the days we are sailing aboard this ship. I just… don’t have the heart to bother the not-old-looking grandpa Jaffa when he is observing his growing collection, reading or tinkering. He looks so peaceful, then, and even tender – when regarding a few trinkets in particular.
However, I did manage to get out of him, early on, that his version of kel’no’reem often requires the aid of music, especially when he is distracted, unsettled or stressed out. And he did confess, somewhat freely, that my version of a lullaby back at Black Lodge was worth five kel’no’reem sessions altogether.
I’ve been lulling the both of us to sleep every night since then.
And now, I am playing catch-the-ball with a three-year-old while Sai’yo is helping her parents fix her suitcase, which is in a sorry state after she pushed it down the stairs of the last hotel the family stayed in. I helped him borrow the repair equipment from the ship’s crew, and I am used to repairing things myself with how the Dursleys behaved to me, but that very reminder is what made me bow out of the repair work. Dealing with a little child may be awkward, but it still counts as a new experience. It is free of any Dursley influence but for the fact that I never got to play with children my age or younger, given the bad rumours they perpetrated about me.
Well, but I never expected that I was going to be her makeup mannequin, afterwards….
O-O-O-O
Our next thorough exploration brings us out of the residential areas and onto the entertainment floor, which features a swimming pool among others, and, “It is… odd, to put a body of water in a ship, which is sailing in a much larger body of water,” Sai’yo blurts out, though still in his quiet voice, sounding – and looking – quite flabbergasted and baffled.
I laugh. Loudly. Till it echoes in the tiled surroundings and, naturally, attracts attention from the swimmers and loiterers. But I can’t help it! His floored look is so unusually and unexpectedly funny! And….
“I don’t understand it too!” I whisper conspiratorially to him when I can get a grip on my laughter, though barely, shielding my mouth with one hand.
Our eyes meet, and my laughter burst free again, noticing the utter bewilderment shining in his.
“We’ve… we’ve got… to… see about a book… or a film… to… explain… this,” I sputter, with my free hand waving at the swimming pool, then drown in giggles once more as I make my not-so-steady way to the row of shops lining the other side of the swimming-pool area, opposite the changing stalls and loos and lockers.
One of them turns out to be a shop for renting and buying swimming costumes.
Now, I got an idea….
“Sai’yo, have you ever tried swimming?”
O-O-O-O
Apparently, the Jaffa never live in a lush planet with lots of clean water and other resources, let alone varied entertainment, regardless to which lord or lady Goa’uld they belong, and Chulak – under Apophis – is one of the best there is, hence the immense size of Apophis’ Jaffa… and, consequently, his armed forces. Sai’yo revealed this as I taught him swimming, which I was relearning, myself, after years and years of not practising. It makes me think harder about finding good places for Teal’c’s shipments of Jaffa to settle in, should they wish to stay with me.
Judging from how happy he looked, watching a random film at the on-board cinema after our swimming session, a Muggle-friendly place ought to be one of the options.
And judging by how many and varied the properties that I own, plus my ignorance of Jaffa everything except for language – that, Teal’c gave me as tool to aid his covert campaign – I must consult Sai’yo for this.
And, something which Andy impressed on me emphatically, I must secure his loyalty first before I give him access to my House-related ledgers, as the lives of my people could be in great danger should I be betrayed, accidentally or not.
Damn. This could have been a nice, good surprise gift for him….
But, well, in any case, I can’t procrastinate any longer, as Neville has just contacted me via comm journal, saying that Fawkes has delivered the third trunk full of Jaffa to him. The whole group – which now includes many of the Residents are frantically modifying the fourth, now, while Hermione and her posse are churning out stasis disks and the house-elves are cooking ready meals like mad, to be delivered along with the trunk.
Things are spiralling out of hand, fast.
To think that this is supposed to be a holiday.