|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: cryslin Story: Muggle War Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 1 Words: 27,236
The group got back from exploring just as night was falling. Hermione took Ginny out to see a Broadway play, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went out to eat and the boys were left to fend for themselves. Ron took this opportunity to talk to Harry more about the journal over dinner at a deli close to the hotel while Fred and George went to check out a nearby joke shop they’d spotted earlier in the day. “I hope Fred and George don’t get arrested by those Please-men,” Ron said as they watched the people outside the window. “Policemen, Ron. You really should have taken a Muggle Studies class,” Harry told him just before their food arrived. “You really do have that rapier wit.” Harry grinned before Ron continued, “Now what about Harrison finding Ron’s family? Have you gotten there yet?” “Nope. I’m still reading the November entries and I have a feeling it’s going to get worse.” After Harry’s statement, both ate in silence. Harry glanced out of the window periodically while Ron looked around at the people. He really hoped that the journal would end soon. The dreams seemed to get worse and each one had him as Harrison. * 23 November 1944 I am surprised that my arm is still attached considering how much pain I’m in. The cold is getting worse and there are more deaths every day. Josiah passed away quietly during the night. They took him out this morning and I don’t know what happened after that. People are becoming more and more savage as the days pass. I did manage to help a young man today. He reminded me of a childhood friend of my brother’s at first. He’s a young lad of fifteen, I think. I don’t remember asking his age. He was fighting with one of the inmates and was getting hurt pretty bad. I had to do something… * “Hey let me go!” Harri opened one of his eyes to see a youth fighting with one of the men in his barracks and losing. The youth’s face was contorted in anger as he yelled and swore to his opponent; the older man just laughed. Sighing, Harri strolled over there and pulled the boy back from the group surrounding the two combatants. “Let him go, Potter. He’s asking for it,” the man snarled. “Does anyone really ask for a fight? Leave the kid alone.” Harri stood a good head taller than the man and looked down at him with narrowed eyes. The man, finally getting the hint, left the group in a huff. The boy, not looking gracious at all, was about to leave when Harri grabbed his arm again and pulled him towards his side of the barracks. “First off, what’s your name?” “Thomas.” “Well, Thomas, you should be thankful you still have a face.” “Why?” Thomas spat. “Because Nazis like to take that away from unruly prisoners with a pistol if you catch my drift,” he said slowly. “You need to be more careful.” “You can’t control me,” Thomas said, sharply defiant. “You’re not the authority.” “I may not be, but at least I show mercy. Take that into consideration,” Harri said coolly before walking away from the youth. “Wait.” Harri turned to see the blond youth looking at him. “Yes?” “I’ve never seen mercy in a person before.” “I know. It’s a gift really. You just need to calm down and not look for fights,” Harri said before regarding Thomas more closely. “You seem fairly new from what I can see.” “Just arrived a few days ago. Got transferred to this camp.” Thomas sat down on a vacant bed and looked to Harri. Harri was thankful that it was a couple of hours until dawn. There was no work to be done until later so he could at least talk to the youth. He sat down next to him and waited for him to speak. “Mercy is not common in my family. I was banished from my house when I was really young and no one gave me the time of day.” “You said your name is Thomas?” “Yes. Thomas Black. I’m the only one with light hair in my family.” “Black? I know of a family with that surname. What are your parents’ names? Maybe I know them through my brother.” “I highly doubt it. I was kicked out and have been travelling around for money. I don’t believe in begging. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” “Same as me.” There was an awkward pause before Thomas looked to him and said, “I don’t really talk about them, my parents, much. My father’s name is Orrin. He’s…doesn’t matter.” “I’ve heard of him, actually. He is not a nice man to my family.” “How could you hear about him? He’s a…” “Wizard? So is the rest of my family. Bet you didn’t know that.” Thomas stared at him a moment before he snorted a laugh and walked away. Harri watched the youth walk over to his bed and crawl under the rag of a blanket. So much like that Malfoy chap my brother talks about, he thought. But he’s a Squib, which explains why he was banished. He could hear the Nazis outside calling for the prisoners. Sighing, he headed out with the rest of the barracks to the commotion. One thing he did notice though was Thomas close behind him as they walked. * “Okay that was weird, Harry. Some Malfoy person is in your dreams now? Can we burn this book?” Ron said the next evening. “Not yet. There’s something hidden in it, but I just don’t know what it is.” “While you were ‘sleeping’, I decided to do some bit of searching for you.” Harry put his hand on Ron’s head and looked concerned. “What are you doing, Harry?” Ron asked with raised brows. “Checking to see if you’re feverish. Are you all right? You don’t do research unless you have to and I thought something might be wrong with you,” he said with a smile as Ron threw a piece of bread at him. “Throwing food now? That’s not nice.” “You really won’t let me finish, will you?” Ron asked, exasperated. Harry shook his head with a grin. “Fine.” “Come on, Ron. Tell me. I promise I won’t be cheeky about it.” “Thank you. Now then, I did some bit of searching for this guy and believe it or not, I may have found his family.” “You what?!” “Calm down. I tried this inner net something or other…” “Internet. Hermione and I can help you on Muggle terms.” “Let me finish,” Ron said impatiently. “Sorry.” “No, you’re not, but anyway, I looked and looked and actually found him. Ronald Myers of a state called Kansas. Anyway, he has family alive there. Maybe you should contact them or something.” “Oh that’s going to go well. ‘Hi, I’m Harry Potter and a man that may be my grand-uncle was with your grandfather during World War II,’” Harry said with a scowl. “That’s not going to work!” “Don’t get yourself all worked up. You’ll figure something out.” “It’s not like it would do me any good. I don’t have the tags or ring with me. They most certainly were not in the vault.” “It’s a big vault, Harry. How would you know if they were there or not?” “Stop acting like Hermione. You’re really creepy when you do that. Now why don’t we try and do something different and not think about that journal.” “Like what?” “I’ve got an idea…” When they got to their room, Harry shut the door while Ron put up a Silencing charm so no one could hear them. As soon as the charms were in place, Harry transfigured a city pamphlet into a map of the Muggle City where the Myers’ family resided. “Good thing Hermione helped me with this charm at school,” Harry said as the map appeared. “At least you got the charm right. Now what is this place called?” “Emporia. It’s on the north-eastern part of the state. The closest city is Topeka and even then, it’s still pretty far. How far can you Apparate?” “Er…not that far,” Ron said in disappointment. “No matter. There’s got to be a way to get there before we head back to England. But I still don’t like this idea…” “It’s closure for the journal. If anything, give them the book.” “Are you mad? This is a wizarding journal. Muggles don’t do well with magical objects or objects that mention magic.” “This is America. Maybe they’re nicer about it.” “Besides, didn’t you want to burn this book earlier?” “Change of heart,” Ron said smugly. “You never know what’s coming next.” “You got that right. Ready to set a Silencing charm around me?” “It’s not going to help…” “And waking up with me screaming is not going to help either,” Harry muttered sharply. “Harry, I’m saying this as a friend. Don’t be a daft bugger.” Harry stared at Ron in surprise. “I don’t care about losing sleep if you are in trouble. Got it?” “Yeah, yeah…” Harry grumbled before Ron left him. * 26 December 1944 Christmas and Boxing Day are different this year. I could hear the Nazis celebrating as I worked in the snow. There is a never-ending supply of snow. Anyway, as I worked, I could hear some Nazis singing songs in German and spit on any prisoner in their way. Such hypocrites. As I worked, I could hear, very faintly, songs in Yiddish of the steadfast few who still had the strength. I found their songs more meaningful than any I have heard before. I still do not understand the words as they sing and it is times like these I miss Ron. Thomas has warmed up to me day by day. He’s gotten beaten a few times by guards who have a sadistic sense of humour. We squibs should stay together, but he is persistent to not acknowledge that fact. His hair got cut off more since the Nazis thought it too long. Long? It was as long as stubble on my chin. Now his scalp has cuts where the razor blade got too close… * The inhabitants of the barracks could hear someone whimpering; it was the youth as he warmed snow in his hand to wash blood off his head. Harri felt sympathetic towards the youth, but knew better than to force him to be his friend. He watched as Thomas breathed hot breath into his snow-filled hands and then let the water drip onto his newly shaven scalp. “Need some help?” Harri asked him after the third handful of snow. “No,” he spat. “No need to get hostile. Just thought I’d ask.” “I don’t need help from you.” “Why? It’s all in good spirits.” “There is nothing good here. You should know that,” Thomas said bitterly. “Sure there is. You’re alive. You still breathe. You have more life than some of the other prisoners here. You…” “I don’t want to hear it.” “Why not? It’s something to live on. Living, surviving; these things will help us through the days. You never know when the Allies will come,” Harri reassured him. “Allies?” “How much of the war have you heard?” Harri asked, getting out of bed. “No much really,” Thomas answered sheepishly. Harri smiled sadly at him before explaining the terminology of war. While he cleaned the blood off Thomas’s scalp, he told his tale of fighting at Normandy. Thomas could not look at him, but he listened without comment. Harri was surprised by the youth’s sudden silence, but took it as a sign to continue his story. As Harri ended his story, night was high and the barracks were fast asleep. Thomas’s bed was taken so Harri offered his for him to sleep on. Harri noticed Thomas had a look of victory cross his face, but soon faced away from him as he curled up on the floor to sleep. * “Oi, Harry! Get up!” a voice said while shoving Harry awake. Harry sleepily opened one eye to see Ron staring at him dressed for the day. “Whatimeizit?” Harry mumbled while squinting his eyes in the weak light. “If he’s asking what time it is, tell him that it’s too bloody early to get up,” Fred said nearby. “It’s time to go! We have to be at the Portkey station in an hour,” Ron said as he whipped the sheets off the sleepy friend. “And you’re waking me now?” Harry moaned, now cold from the sudden removal of his comforter. “The station is really close though, but you need to get up!” “Yell one more time Ron and I’ll hurt you,” George said as he exited the bathroom. Harry got out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to get away from the excitable redhead. He looked at his reflection to find his eyes were bleary and his hair was worse for wear. Figures, he thought before he got ready for the match. The Portkey station was in the subway station next to their hotel; Ron was correct in this case. Harry did not like Portkeys, but they were better than Flooing and Apparating. The Weasley party held on to a subway ticket and felt the usual tug at their navels as the Portkey was activated. When they arrived, they were in a field in the middle of nowhere. “And the game is…?” Harry asked gesturing around. “Through those trees,” Mr. Weasley answered by pointing to a set of trees ahead. When they walked through the trees, Harry saw a Quidditch pitch like the one set for the World Cup back when he was fourteen. The exception, there were banners of blue and red representing the teams this time. The blue was the American team and the red was for the Peruvian team. The blue banners had white stars streaking across them trailing silver sparks while the red banners had black dragons in flight. The American souvenirs had stars that floated around a person like bubbles while others were fireworks displays. Harry smirked at the items and their novelty although there was one that interested him. This was a glass, feather-shaped pendant with a silver inner flame that looked like a blending of liquid and fire as it glistened inside. While he looked at the pendants, he noticed the twins looking over the fireworks. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the pendants. As he perused the shelf, Ginny came and hugged him from behind. “Hey,” she purred. “Hey back,” Harry said. How he loved it when she purred. “Anything interesting?” she asked as she moved beside him. “This pendant. Look at the inside. See it?” Ginny took the necklace from him and looked carefully. Sighing, she gave it back to him and looked at him confused. “See what?” “What do you mean ‘see what?’” he asked incredulously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry.” “You’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t see a silver-coloured flame flickering inside this?” “No, I don’t.” Harry growled slightly. How could he be the only one to see this flame? Frustrated, he turned to find the sales person, and saw that the person was already looking at him. “Can you answer a question?” Harry asked him. “As in why you see the flame?” “How did you…?” “No matter,” the man told him. “This is a special piece. It’s known as a Warrior Talisman. Those who have the spirit of a warrior are the only ones who can see the flame from within.” “Oh great,” Harry muttered. “And how could a piece of jewellery know that?” “This piece is quite dangerous to own. It was forged in glass using magic and contains a highly toxic substance to make the silver liquid move. The liquid is charmed specifically to be seen only by warriors. I must assure you that the glass is unbreakable: the artisan himself set the charms.” “If it’s so dangerous, then why sell it?” Harry asked while gliding a thumb over the smooth surface. “It’s only dangerous if the glass is somehow broken. There is pure mercury inside this piece.” “That’s dangerous!” “No matter, though. It seems that the piece is calling to you.” “We’ll see. Maybe later,” Harry said before leaving. “Later will come,” the man answered. “That was strange,” Ginny said once they were out of earshot of the man. “He is strange,” Harry countered. “I never got to see the other team’s souvenirs.” “Ron will tell us. Hermione made him go with her to those displays.” “Won’t Hermione be telling us then?” Harry asked as his friends, draped in red garments, wandered over. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing out loud at Ron’s appearance. “What are you wearing?” Ginny asked as seriously as she could, though the corners of her lips twitched. “A bloody red poncho. I look ridiculous,” Ron said as he glowered at Hermione. “It’s a nice touch. The poncho matches your hair,” Hermione said with a smirk. “Hermione!” “Come on, guys,” Harry said, interrupting a potential spat. “We should get inside to our seats.” They quickly left the souvenir stands and made their way inside the stadium. The seats were arranged differently from other Quidditch pitches he has seen. There were towers with multiple seats within and seats all around. The towers usually had seats on the top only and some seating on the sides. They were situated in the Black Tower in the middle section where they got a good view of the match. Harry could see charmed stars flying around the pitch while miniature dragons sat on the top of every tower. He hoped that there were no Veelas in America as the team mascots started filing out. * After eight hours of the match, the Peruvian Seeker finally caught the Snitch and tied the match at 500 points each. Harry hoped Ron was paying attention to the Keepers since they put up a great fight in guarding the goals. Both Keepers had been hit by Bludgers; the American Keeper was hit in the shoulder, dislocating it, and he still played while the other Keeper was hit twice and broke his leg. The Chasers had been forced into the towers numerous times and some were taken out by a perfectly placed Bludger. In the end, only two chasers survived relatively unscathed for the duration of the game; one petite witch on the American team and a stocky wizard on the Peruvian team. Harry could tell Hermione was impressed by this witch’s stamina. It was equally impressive when this same witch did a back flip off her broom to score a goal and avoid a Bludger, but she landed on her arm when she landed and fractured it. By the time they got back to the hotel, Hermione was nearly asleep on Ron’s shoulder and Harry was holding onto Ginny since she was almost too tired to walk. She did fall asleep in the elevator and Harry had to resort to carrying her in his arms the remainder of the journey to the girls’ room. He saw Ron raise an eyebrow at him as he carried her into her room and over to her bed. Hermione became coherent long enough to shoo the boys out of the room and shut the door in their faces once Harry left the room. “She sure is cheeky when she’s tired,” Ron muttered as they got in their room. “Can’t blame her though. It was a really long game,” Harry said as he changed into pyjamas. “I know. I don’t think the one we went to back home was that long, was it?” Harry shrugged and crawled under the covers. He could hear Ron talking to the twins, their voices lulling him to sleep. * He could feel the cool air hitting him as he removed the covers to wake up. It was quiet. Too quiet for his liking. Harri looked around to see if there was anything amiss in the barracks. Thomas was sleeping in the bed next to his curled in a ball while the other occupants lay very still. Harri made his way quietly to the window to look out. There was no movement of any kind outside; even the wind is still. He went back to his bunk and started to write in his journal. Thomas woke up suddenly, looking around with a stricken expression. His movements made Harri look up from his journal. “Thomas, are you all right?” he inquired. Thomas shook his head. “Nightmare,” he mumbled, getting out of bed and going to the window. Harri put his things down and joined him. Nothing in the bleak landscape moved. “Care to tell me about it?” Thomas hesitated. Finally, he whispered, “I have a feeling something bad is going to happen soon. I can feel it... The last time I felt this way was just before I was captured.” Harri put a gentle hand on Thomas’ shoulder. The youth jumped at the touch. Harri apologized, then asked, “Are you sure? I’m just asking since...” Thomas turned swiftly, hissing, “I’m a Squib. I know!” He stopped and continued in a calmer whisper, “Still, I do feel like something will happen, just like I did before I got taken!” Harri sucked in a breath as the meaning of Thomas’ words hit him. “But that would mean that you can do magic if you’re a Seer,” he said, a little awed. Thomas turned back to the window, refusing to meet Harri’s eyes. “I know,” he said uncertainly. “But it’s only happened once before. I really don’t trust myself too well with this.” “Some Seers only have one or two real premonitions in their lifetimes,” Harri told him. “You just may be one of the lucky ones...” Harri smiled at Thomas and gave him a pat on the back before returning to his writing. Just as he was finishing a sentence, gunshots filled the air and along with the sound of an airplane flying overhead. The people in the barracks began panicking and rushed outside. Harri looked out the window to see troops coming in through the main gates. The Nazis fought back. “This can’t be good… Thomas! Come with me!” Harri said as he started to open the window. Thomas looked at him and nodded but was being forced out of the barracks by the mob of frightened men. “Harri!” Harri turned as Thomas called his name, just in time to see the youth being pushed out of the barracks. Harri tore a board from one of the bunks and used it to shatter the window so he could climb out without being trampled. He grabbed his journal, marking his place with Ron’s dog tags and wedding ring and hoisted himself through the opening, shards of glass cutting his hands. He dropped to the ground and frantically scanned the surging prisoners, searching for Thomas. The boy had vanished. It was utter chaos. People were in a panicked frenzy running with nowhere to go. Allied troops poured into the camp and Nazis guards began shooting at anyone who got in their way. Harri stayed against the barracks wall as the chaos continued while searching still for Thomas. He closed his eyes for a moment so he could breathe slowly. The screams, the gunshots, the hell all around him, did not help him calm down. “Harri!” His eyes flew open to the sound of his name, and he saw Thomas standing dangerously close to a Nazi soldier. Without a second thought, he ran. Bullets flew through the air, people fell all around him, but he did not want to see this youth killed. The soldier turned around with his rifle ready to fire. He pulled the trigger…
|