Band of Gypsies

Chapter Four

Harry woke up in sunlight. He could smell the freshness of pine sap and a soft branch of pine needles caressing his cheek. He was amazed. He had lain under the bough, listening to the Dementors as they prowled feet away. And then, as soon as they had gone he'd fallen asleep.

Whatever the elf had done, it was effective. Harry knew the Dementors and their ability to hone in on their prey. Hadn't he fended off over a hundred of them himself when they had swarmed around him, Hermione and Sirius? He shook the thought away. Bringing up Sirius' image was too painful.

Harry rolled out from under the tree and once again washed his face in the cold brook water. This time there was no waiting breakfast or warming fire. He studied the tracks made by the horse the night before and decided that he must have been left on his own. There was no welcoming elf voice or glimpse of a red bushy foxtail. Harry arranged his belongings and started walking down the trail. I'm going to miss you Verillieon, he thought.

He walked through the day, stopping momentarily for a drink and then moving again. His plan depended on not using magic. If the Dementors caught him, he would have to defend himself using his wand. It would be all over. They might not kill him, but he had no protection, either. He wasn't at Hogwarts or at his Aunt's house, which meant that others would find him fairly quickly. Others, being, the Ministry of Magic or Voldemort's Death Eaters.

He walked until he thought he heard the sound of music and laughter. The trees were thinning and the trail widened. Harry stepped cautiously through the trees until he could see objects and moving people. He could smell the fire from campsites and hear the sound of friendly whinnying from grazing horses.

Little children ran unexpectedly around the side of a wagon and towards him, shrieking in laughter. They were almost naked and very brown. They stopped in amazement and stared until one broke away and went calling back to the wagons. Harry searched the woods around him and knew that he had stumbled onto a campsite. He couldn't easily return the way he had come and avoid people.

A man followed the brown boy. He was very small and thin. Harry had never seen a Leprechaun, but had read about them. This man had those kinds of mystical qualities and yet, was very human. The man wore a hat with a wide brim and a vest over a blouse. His face was dark and black eyes twinkled from beneath the hat's brim. A toothpick stuck out from his mouth where a little gold glimmered on a tooth. He wore chains of gold around his neck that picked up the sparkle of the sun. And, an immense gold ring was on the middle finger of the hand that was held up to Harry.

He spoke, but Harry did not understand. He knew it was a greeting and the hand offered was a friendly one. Harry touched his own hat in greeting, and said, "I'm sorry I don't know what you are saying."

The children grinned and started talking until the older man shooshed them away with a sweep of his hand and some throaty words. "I speak your English." he said. He stared at Harry's dust-covered clothes and the worn look of his face. "You are welcome into our camp, traveler. We have food. Come!" He turned and walked slowly back to the camp. Harry followed.

As he walked around the corner he was surprised to see the activity of the camp. There were about twenty wagons. All of them were covered with gilded, carved wood and painted trim. People moved about the camp. Women sat in long, colorful, flowing skirts and tended cooking pots and nursed babies. There were two men who were doing acrobatics, a man who had a bear that he was talking to. Several men and women were walking on stilts, feet above Harry's head. They stopped to look down at him as he entered the camp.

Harry heard the whoosh above his head and a hand grab his hat. He immediately reached for it and saw a young man suspended above his head, swinging away on a trapeze. People broke into laughter. On his return journey with the swing, the young boy dropped the hat. Harry picked it up and placed it back on his head.

"Who are you?" he asked the thin man. "Are you a circus?"

"Circus?" The dark eyes flashed without understanding. " We are Romani!" The man growled. He crouched near a fire and gestured over at Harry. "Sit, you eat, Gadjo."

Harry crouched and laid his sack carefully near his feet. "Sorry, I don't know what that means."

The man contemplated him for a minute and then his face relaxed. He said, "We are Gypsy. Yes? You understand this?"

Harry nodded. "Yes." An older woman handed him a plate with food. She brought her hand to her mouth and mimicked eating. He took a spoon and slurped hot stew into his mouth and nodded. It was good.

Children of all ages began to gather in a circle around them. Harry looked at all the dark merry eyes. He smiled at them and it sent them scurrying for the woods with shrieks of laughter.

The thin man was joined by another, and then another. Each man of various ages, but obviously the men of the camp. Harry ate slowly and cautiously.

The thin man pointed at his chest where a particularly shiny gold coin hung from a chain. "I am Jolie Pulani," he said. It sounded like he was calling himself, Jolly.

Harry chewed slowly to give himself time to choose a name for himself. He hadn't given it any thought until now. "I 'm Tomas Pane." Yeah, that would do, he decided.

The thin man nodded eagerly. "You're a boy. We will call you Tommy." He motioned widely to everyone who stood listening, which included the stilt-walkers that towered over them. He clapped his hand on Harry's back and then pulled out a pipe, filled it, lit it and puffed away.

Everyone went back to their business.

Harry finished his bowl and handed it back to the woman who collected it. He smiled at her to acknowledge his appreciation. Jolie watched.

"Tomas, Tomas Pane, Hmph! Tommy." Jolie pointed at each man in the circle wit the stem of his pipe. "Gregor Melani, Viktor Pushkin, Gopi Badu, and Jamud Perani. My brothers!" When each man heard his name he smiled and nodded. They all wore hats, some sweat-stained at the brim. Each made a little salute as he was named.

Harry nodded in return. Out of the corner of his eye the young man with the bear walked up. The bear was allowed to sniff Harry's ear. "Are you entertainers?" Harry asked.

Jolie understood this word. "Yes, entertainers. Mateo and his dancing bear, Kako." He pointed again with the stem of his pipe. As the trapeze man swung overhead, Jolie pointed towards the heavens, "Janos, The Flying Swan."

"Are you wiz...wizards?" Harry gulped.

Jolie studied him. "Devi?" he said frowning.

Harry very carefully picked up his sack and pulled his wand out. The men sat motionless.

Harry nodded, "Devi? Wizard?"

Jolie nodded, looking at the wand. "Yes, wizards." He spoke something to the others.

Harry put the wand back in the pack. He was suddenly tired. The heat of the day and the smoke from the campfire was making his eyes droop. "Jolie?" he pronounced it 'Jolly', "can I sleep in the shade for awhile. I'll leave soon, but I am tired."

The man smiled. "Yes, yes. You sleep here in the camp. No harms come to you. Come!" He was on his feet and helping Harry to his feet. The man pulled him over to a wagon where he unrolled a soft quilted bedroll underneath in the shade. Jolie helped Harry pull the sack off his shoulder where there was a minor tug-of-war. Jolie nodded politely at the resistance and let Harry crawl underneath and roll on his back on the soft bed. "Jolie?" he murmured.

"Yes, Tommy." The man was on his knees, pipe in mouth.

"Thank you for the food," Harry said.

He slept a dreamless sleep. Not even the sound of a guitar playing a haunting song shook him from the depth of his sleep. Gentle hands lifted him and put him in a wagon. The soft lolling cradle deepened his sleep even as the camp rolled down the road the next morning.