Banish Misfortune

Chapter 9:

Well, sugar for sugar, and salt for salt,
If you go down in the flood it's gonna be your own fault.
                                          --Bob Dylan

The book was beginning to speak to Remus.

It had taken some time; the writing, obviously in code, had been made by a person whose intent was to conceal. This made the initial work difficult, but Remus knew that here, as in all books, was something that did not relish concealment. If the writer had truly wanted his thoughts to be unknown, they would never have been committed to the page at all. Books were meant to be read. This book had not been used for many weeks; it had been shoved under a mattress. It would speak to him.

Remus did not try to break the code systematically, nor did he wonder what language the author had used. His way with books and language was more direct. He was interested in meanings rather than systems; they would come, if he could guess the correct approach.

He mulled over the sparse bits of information he had regarding Järven: a Dark Arts teacher. A Swede. Secretive. Killed by the Avada Kedavra Curse. Unable to remove a Blocking spell from a cave entrance—a spell later removed by Andreas. Andreas was a good, competent wizard, but not necessarily trained in such things. Surely an instructor in the Dark Arts should be more experienced at such spells than that.

Would pride be the key? Had he put his thoughts to paper out of pride? Or, nearly the same thing, a sense of the importance of his activities? Or it could be that he was afraid of some enemy, and wanted his suspicions known.

Remus looked searchingly at the words before him, trying fear first. Thinking of a frightened man, putting into writing his certainty that someone was trying to kill him. The book lay lifelessly in his hands, revealing nothing.

After closely studying several pages, and becoming accustomed to the small, precise handwriting, Remus decided that this man had not been afraid. So, another try: He'd been a friend of Ola's, hadn't he? Perhaps pride was the key after all: pride in his background and training, in his skills, in his intelligence? His cleverness?

A line of the writing took on meaning: "I pretended that I was unable to break the spell, and the foolish Headmaster believed me." Remus's eyes widened, and he smiled in satisfaction.

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Andie and Padfoot stayed at the pier long enough to wave (and bark) goodbye to the holiday voyagers. They took the path that led along the waterside, past other teachers' cabins, Andie still humming the tune of the children's song. She reached down to scratch Padfoot behind the ears, which he enjoyed. There were birds, far out on the water: ducks or geese, difficult to tell at that distance. A light rain began to fall; Andie put her hood up. The Folberg cloaks of heavy green wool kept the wearer dry no matter how hard the rain came down. They were available to all, hanging on hooks inside the door of nearly every building in the school compound. Padfoot seemed to enjoy the rain; they kept walking.

"Andromeda, what are you doing here, and what is that tune you are humming?" The voice sounded alarmed and affronted. Andie looked over to see Carina standing by the water, staring at the beautiful ship as it sailed down the fjord, unfurling its bright sails. She turned sharply toward them, her face disapproving.

"Oh, Carina, I didn't see you. It's a little song the children were singing as they loaded up for their sail. I asked them to sing it to me; it seems to be stuck in my head."

"That piece of doggerel is beginning to drive me mad. They sing it incessantly, in that incomprehensible dialect—you know children will be attracted to the least suitable things. I am surprised that our esteemed headmaster allows it. But then, perhaps that is not so surprising after all." She sniffed dismissively.

Andie shrugged, and smiled at her. "I found it charming: such a cheery tune, and the children so happy to be leaving on their voyage. But if it annoys you, I'll try not to hum it any more."  She broke off, her eyes widening as she stared past Carina at the water. "Carina, look out—Look at that wave!" 

Andie grabbed Carina's arm and pulled her away from the shore, but too late: a huge wave of icy water had rushed toward the shore. It reared up to a towering height, poised over them for a moment like a mountainous, glistening sculpture of green glass, then crashed down on the three of them, pulling them into the fjord.

The force of the water swept them far from the shore and deep under the surface. Andie, who had noticed the wave, had just enough time to take and hold a deep breath. She felt herself tumbled over and over through the water, but kicked frantically in the direction she knew to be up: the direction of the light. The shock of the freezing water had been almost enough to immobilise her; she forced her limbs to move. After a seemingly endless time, she burst through the surface and gasped for air.

The water was calm. The shore was a huge distance away. In the growing light, she looked around her, searching for Padfoot. Fighting the numbing cold, forcing herself to tread water, she tried to call him but could not get enough air into her lungs to do so. She formed his name silently; saw no movement besides her own. Andie felt the first insidious whisper of panic.

She felt a sharp tug on the hood of her cloak; she was being drawn backwards through the water. Slowly, stiffly, she reached backwards with her hands. Fur. She held her body still, felt the rhythm of a strongly swimming animal. She closed her eyes and allowed tears of relief to mingle with the water of the fjord. She tried to kick with her feet, to help in their progress. It took a long time.

They staggered to shore, exhausted, gasping, shivering. They lay side by side on the rocks, unable to speak for several minutes, Andie's hand grasping Padfoot's fur. After a time, she felt the fur under her hand change in texture to the stiffer, thicker wool of a Folberg cloak; she knew he had transformed. They spoke in unison, as they sometimes did: "Are you all right?" Then, "What was that?" Then, a few moments later, "What happened to Carina?"

                              **************************************

They raised the alarm: stumbled to the nearest cabin and pounded on the door. A bell was rung. Boats were launched. Everyone searched all the rest of the day, even though, they said, there was very little hope of finding her. Currents tended to pull things to the bottom and out to sea. In fact, they said, it was amazing that Andie and Sirius had managed to swim to safety. "Nobody swims here," said Andreas. "It is too cold, and quite treacherous." 

Remus was noticeably shaken, but he merely grumbled at them: "I can't let you two out by yourselves at all, can I." He took them home for dry, warm clothing, then they went back to the water, to show people where they'd been. The three of them joined the others who were patrolling the shoreline: neither Andie nor Sirius wanted, just then, to be in a boat. They walked far past the spot where the wave had struck, but saw nothing to indicate that Carina had ever been there. At nightfall, the search was called off, and the dining hall opened again. People wandered into the kitchen and helped themselves, or went back to their cabins.

The Pack first stopped in the dining hall, since it was on their way home. They made sandwiches and sat down to eat them, then found that they were too exhausted to do so. With an immense effort—Sirius moaned that getting up from the chair was even harder than his morning's swim had been—they roused themselves to walk down the path to home.  Without a word, they understood that nobody should sleep alone this night. They pulled off their heavy cloaks, fell into the big bed and slept until the late daylight, next morning.

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Ola had not spoken since receiving the news of his wife's drowning. He joined the searching, in one of the large boats with Isak, Kaja, and Martine, the Potions Mistress. They offered soft, sympathetic words; Ola remained grim-faced and silent. When the searching was ended, he climbed onto the dock and watched while the others tied up the boat. He did not respond when Isak offered him a drink at their cabin. He stayed there, unmoving, when they walked past him. Finally, Andreas, coming past from another boat, took Ola by the arm, silently. They walked together back to Andreas's cabin and sat down in the kitchen. Andreas made coffee and huge, hot sandwiches; he placed them on the table, and had finished his before he noticed that Ola's was untouched.

Andreas went to a cupboard; he drew out a bottle and a glass. He poured a large measure and said, "A gift from Sirius: whisky from Scotland. I find it too strong for everyday drinking, but you may like it." He left the bottle on the table. Ola downed the whisky in one gulp, and said nothing. He leaned his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands.

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Moony awakened first. The familiar, comforting scents of his Pack surrounded him. He smiled, a long, slow, wolf-smile. He allowed his eyes to open. He was using Padfoot's neck and shoulder as a pillow; he could just see the big dog's ear out of the corner of his eye. Andie's arm was across his back, her head tucked into his side. He could feel her warm breath against his ribs, through his fur. He was at peace, secure; contented. He was not thinking about the traumatic events of the preceding day.

His thoughts, if they could be called thoughts, were actually a simple attentiveness to sensations, in present tense: they centred on the slow beat of Padfoot's pulse, felt beneath his own throat.  He was aware of the warmth and pressure of Andie against his side, the dark, indistinct shape of Padfoot's head in his near vision. He raised his own head and began licking Padfoot's chin: leisurely, gentle, methodical cleansing. He washed the big dog's face, his whole head, his neck. Padfoot, who had awakened at some point during this process, lay still, smiling; accepting the attention with drowsy pleasure.

 Someone was knocking at the door.

Wolf and dog transformed, appearing, as dishevelled humans, in the same clothes they had worn the day before.

Andie half-woke up, eyes still shut, grumpily demanding that the rest of the Pack ‘stop jumping about like that; either go back to sleep or go away.'

They moved quietly out into the main room of the cabin; Sirius closed the bedroom door and Remus went to answer the knocking.

Andreas and Ola stood there in the drizzle, even more haggard and unkempt than Remus. "We brought coffee," said Andreas, holding up a large metal pot. "May we come in and talk for a while?" Remus stood aside, holding the door open. Sirius went to the kitchen side of the room and found cups.

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Ola stood, facing the others for a moment before sitting at the table, determined to say something. "I did care for my wife," he stated. "We agreed that many of the changes we saw here at Folberg these past five years were not for the best. I still believe that these Sami and country ways we see taught here are useless, primitive, little better than Muggle superstition. However, I considered it a small victory that all the old subject areas were still being offered, even if occasionally in diluted form. I do recognise that we must begin at the beginning with some of these provincial children, many of whom do not even have a wand-trained adult in their households." He sighed, suddenly looking very old, drained of all energy. Andreas rose and pulled out the fourth chair for him; he sat down slowly, leaning heavily on the arms of the chair.

Ola began speaking again, slowly. "Carina was always somewhat attracted to Dark practices; she became more so when Järven came here, eight years ago. She and Järven and a few others began meeting periodically, to share this interest. I thought it harmless; and so it was, I think, until this year.

"I blame myself, a bit: I did a good deal of complaining at home, about the changes our new headmaster chose to make." He nodded stiffly to Andreas, then plowed on doggedly. "I resented his intrusion into our little school, his throwing open the doors to unqualified students, his laxness with the students in matters of dress and decorum. I saw these changes as the downfall of all our standards, all our history as an excellent school. Perhaps Carina saw her activities as a way of helping me…"  He broke off and bowed his head, unable to continue.

Andreas spoke, gently. "Ola told me some disturbing things last night. He believes that Carina, and possibly Järven and Markus, were working together to sabotage Folberg, to discredit me and to persuade the Ministry to find them a new headmaster. He says that she may have been trying to sink the school ship as it left the fjord yesterday morning. She had told him earlier that it would be a feather in their caps if the ship sank: it would put to rest the ridiculous assertion that Erik's family had any proper magic at all, or that they could somehow build unsinkable ships. If Sirius and Andie happened upon her before she had completed her spell, it may have gone wrong and swept the three of them out into the water."

Remus stared at his guests, suddenly reminded of his own activities of the morning before. "Ola, I know how difficult this must have been for you to speak about. I do not know if this will be comforting or more hurtful, but I have evidence that you are right."

The book was still lying on the table; Remus indicated it with a glance. "I managed to read this," he said. "Järven's journal, going back several years, with entries up to the day he was killed. Rather frightening stuff, but extremely puzzling in some ways. It seems that Järven was indeed the leader of a conspiracy to remove Andreas as Headmaster of the school, and to re-form Folberg under his own, or perhaps Isak's, direction. It was he who imprisoned the two boys in the cave. The spell, he said in his journal, would have worn off in two weeks—by then, the boys would certainly have died. He was most annoyed, Andreas, that you managed to undo the spell."

Remus paused, gazing around the table, eventually looking up at Andreas again. "You may be interested to know that the day he was killed, Järven was planning to murder you." He hesitated a moment, then asked, "How exactly did Järven die?"

Andreas answered, calmly enough. "I very nearly saw it happen. It was about the time for lunch; I was walking up the path from my cabin to the dining hall and encountered a group of the older students. They stopped to tell me, in great glee, that one of their professors had misplaced a quiz paper, so they had been excused from having to take it. They were in very high spirits"—here Andreas smiled—"they joined hands and were dancing around me in a ring, singing that song of theirs, when one of them happened to look past me and said, "That teacher's fallen down!"  We all turned and rushed back to the side of my cabin, where he was, but it was too late; he was dead." Andreas paused, thoughtfully. "He had his wand out."

Sirius, who had been listening with great interest, suddenly laughed. The others turned to him in shocked surprise. "Sorry," he said, still smiling, "but I was thinking of Markus and the Whomping Willows. This must be the least competent group of saboteurs in history: the victims, in every case but that of the two boys, are the conspirators."

The four men looked at each other in confusion as they realised the truth of this.

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Andreas and Ola had gone by the time Andie woke up. She opened the bedroom door to see the rest of the Pack still sitting at the table, on their second pot of tea. "Good morning, Slugabed," her brother said. "You've missed our visitors. Probably just as well; your hair is sticking up all over. You look just like a chrysanthemum.  Dolly Draggle-Tail." They both laughed at his reversion to the childhood insult.

"Neither of you seems to have looked in a mirror this morning, either: not a pretty sight, the pair of you. We'd all better go to visit the bath-house. Draggle-Tail yourself," she added, sticking out her tongue. "I'm rubber, you're glue."

"You're what?" Remus asked, mystified at much of the preceding exchange.

"Rubber," she repeated. "It's what Muggle children say when someone insults them. We grew up in a Muggle village; I thought you knew. We went to primary school there. It goes, ‘I'm rubber, you're glue; Whatever you say, whatever you do, Bounces off me and sticks onto you.' "

"Sounds like a child's version of a Repelling Charm," he said. "In any case, the bath-house is a wonderful idea. Do you want to go now, or after breakfast? "

                                        **********************

The bath-house was indeed a wonderful idea: the first room held several deep, spacious, boat-shaped wooden bathtubs, each one at least big enough for a family. Shelves ran alongside each tub with blocks of translucent white soap, loofahs, baskets full of cedar and pine shavings for scrubbing oneself with. There was hot water running into the tubs in a never-ending supply. The whole room smelled exquisitely of cedar.

In the second room was a much bigger tub filled with cold water, ‘for closing the pores,' they'd been told. One soaked, scrubbed down, and rinsed in the smaller tubs, then plunged into the big one just at the point when one became uncomfortably hot.

The rest of the morning was spent blissfully, in clouds of steam and lather. The Pack had the place to themselves at first. After a time, however, the young Potions Mistress, Martine, and her visitor, a school friend, appeared, soon followed by Minne, Aslak, and his mother Mari. The school friend, introduced as Elli, was a Healer who had spent most of her time after leaving school in the wizarding district in Oslo. "It's so green here, and so warm!" she kept exclaiming. The general conversation turned to the great differences in climate from the coast to further inland.

Andie and Remus, who had become somewhat accustomed to the Norwegian wizards' neighbourly bathing habits, were amused to watch Sirius sinking lower and lower into the water with each new arrival. "You'll get used to it," Remus grinned. "In the old days, Andreas says, there used to be old women in the bath houses who would scrub you, for a fee. Sit up and be sociable, or they'll think there's something wrong with you."

Aslak, noticing the Pack, asked kindly after Andie and Sirius. "I hope you are recovered after your ordeal in the fjord," he said. "That water is so cold; I marvelled when you rejoined the search yesterday. You must have been exhausted when night fell."

Martine, who habitually kept to herself, looked over to the Pack's tub, taking notice of them for the first time. "You are the ones who were swept off by the wave? What happened? Did Carina really call it up? Why on earth would she want to do such a thing?"

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other. Andreas had given them no instructions about what to say, or not say, about Carina. At last, Sirius said, "Nobody knows exactly; she didn't say so. We had just come upon her. We didn't even see her, to be honest, until she started scolding Andie for humming that little tune the children all sing.

"We'd just been at the pier, watching Erik and the children putting out to sea in their ship. Those two little first-years, Jonas and Frode, were in the crew. The song was being used as a loading chantey." He smiled at the memory. "It was fun to watch. Little Jonas was beating that drum, and they were all roaring it out as they carried their things onto the ship. Of course they came down to speak to us, and take us aboard to see everything. Then before we left, Andie asked about the song. They gave us one last rendition before they left, and it had stuck in Andie's head."

Andie smiled over at Aslak. "The boys told us you'd made the song for them, to cheer them up after they were trapped in the cave this autumn," she said. "That was kind of you, and it certainly seems to have taken their minds off the fear they must have felt. All the children enjoy singing it. What are the words, exactly?"

Aslak smiled, and shook his head. "It was only a joik, such as we give to each other. The words are secondary to the singing: it only says, ‘Lau lei, loi la,' and then there are some phrases about how nobody can harm them, or they will suffer harm themselves." He shrugged. "Just for giving courage to the children."

Remus suddenly turned to Andie, his eyes staring. "For children," he murmured. "You remember, the thing you said this morning. About glue, or something…a Repelling Charm, I said." He looked over at old Aslak, who looked back quietly. "That's it, isn't it? You've been watching over all of them, haven't you? Andreas was saved because he was surrounded by the children.  Andie and Sirius just happened to be near Carina at the wrong time. Aslak, my friend…." He shook his head, unhappy, but unable to finish his thought.

Minne glanced at her husband. "Most Norse do not regard our ways with admiration," she said softly. "My husband is modest, because he believes you will not understand. We Sami do not fight; the Muggles among us used to simply move to another place when Norse attacked us. We do not teach our children Curses. Some look down on us, for this reason. They think our powers are weak and childish, or that we have no powers at all. After the boys were trapped in the cave, my husband knew they needed protection: that someone was trying to harm them. The children's joik says, in English,

‘I am strong, lau lei, loi la; I am free, lau lei, loi la.
The evil you want, lau lei, loi la, Does not touch me, lau lei, loi la.
This joik is mine, lau lei, loi la; The words are true, lau lei, loi la,
The evil you want, lau lei, loi la, Goes back to you, lau lei, loi la.'

Remus had gathered his Pack close to him, an arm tight around each one. Despite the steaming water, he felt cold.  "This was wrong, my friend," he said softly. "People were killed. You can't know who will be hurt in cases like this. My family were nearly drowned, just because they were walking past." He hesitated for a moment, looking uncertainly at Aslak as if he were a visitor from another planet. "I understand that the children needed protecting, from unknown danger. But there has to be a way to keep from hurting anyone else…."

Aslak nodded sadly. "I do see, my friends: I would never wish for you to be hurt. I am sorry," he said softly. "This accident was something I did not foresee. Let us go and ask the advice of our headmaster. I admit, I do not know what to do next."

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The Folberg staff, called together in Andreas's sitting room, listened silently to Remus and Aslak. At the end, nobody spoke. Markus suddenly stood up, looked around the room belligerently, opened his mouth, and began to speak, but Andreas cut him off.

"Thank you, Markus, for your resignation. That should make things much easier. Those of you not familiar with Sami ways may not be aware of this, but a joik, once given, legally belongs to the recipient. There is nothing we can do to remove that song from the children's minds, or from their schoolyard repertoire. And, on the whole, I do not see the need for concern. Who, after all, would wish harm to a child?"

He looked benignly around the room. "We have a powerful spell surrounding our students, protecting them from malicious danger. Markus, when he goes abroad to seek another position, will be sure to tell his associates of this. The word will spread. If he has any fellow conspirators in this school or out of it, they now have their warning. I propose to do nothing: knowledge of danger is sufficient. We know the fjord is dangerous; we do not swim there. We know mountain trolls are dangerous; we avoid them." He glanced with concern at Remus, who still looked unhappy. "It is true, two of our dear friends were put in grave danger because of this spell. Worse, we have suffered two deaths, which might not have occurred had we only known of this. I do not think there will be any more."

Markus finally found his voice. "And what do you propose to do with this… this murderer?" he shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Aslak. "I could have been killed! We were attempting to save the school from evil such as this! How can you all sit there and not be repulsed by this savage? And yet you demand MY resignation!"

It was Ola who answered. "Markus," he said slowly, "you would do well to be quiet. Aslak has murdered no one. A cruelly hard lesson, for some of us, but a lesson nevertheless. Aslak must remain at this school. We have much to learn from this man."

 He stood, bowed formally to Aslak, then turned to Andreas. "I hope you will accept my apology for the distrust I had in you, for the ill will I felt and encouraged in others. You would be within your rights to demand my resignation as well as Markus's, but I hope you will not." He glanced at his fellow instructors, young, old, Norse, Sami, and English. "I am ready to learn now: never again will I dismiss magic I do not understand as useless. I hope to see what will become of this place; I think it may prove exciting."

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Sirius stood quietly in the drizzle, waiting for the meeting to be over, shifting from one foot to the other, watching his footprints fill with water. At last the door opened and the staff filed out, talking quietly to each other. Aslak and Minne were the last to leave; they walked slowly, silently towards their cabin. Sirius waited until they came towards him on the path, and fell into step with them.

"Aslak, I would like to ask a favour," he said softly.

The old man smiled shyly up at him. "Of course, my friend; I certainly owe you at least a favour."

Sirius bit his lip, then plunged into his question. "There is a child I know who is in some danger; I would like very much to be able to give him a song like the one you made for Jonas and Frode. Can you teach me…? It would have to be very powerful."

They stared at him for a brief moment in surprise, then Aslak smiled a true, friendly smile, lighting up his face. "I can teach you. I think you can learn. Is this child close to you; do you love him?"

"Yes, very much."

"It should be easy, then. Come to my cabin this evening and we will have a first lesson."