Band of Gypsies

Chapter Six

Harry sat under the wagon the next morning with five other wet miserable people. It was raining. The weather matched his already gloomy mood. Glimpsing the dark hooded figure the night before, reminded him of his situation. He had been pretending that he was free of the other world; of Death Eaters, and Voldemort, of his family and even of his friends. And now, he sat feeling gloomier than ever.

Tshaya, an ancient old crone and a revered member of the Kumpania wandered out to the smoldering fire. The rain was still coming down in steady torrents. She squatted at the fire and stirred it with a stick, lighting her pipe from it's embers.

Jamud shook his head, "she will catch fever."

"I'll fetch her," Harry said. Jamud waved his hand to give permission. Harry knew the old woman was too old be considered off limits. In fact, she was considered as important as the men and was treated with great respect.

"Come along old mother," he said in Romani. "You'll get sick from the rain." She stared at him with cloudy eyes. She had no teeth and white whiskers covered her chin. Harry squatted next to her. He'd never needed to speak to her directly before.

"Jal avre, Chal (Go away, young man)," she said.

"We have room under the wagon," he tried again. "It's dry there and comfortable."

She sat silently and smoked. Harry was getting soaked. She reached over so suddenly that Harry had no time to pull his hand away from her. She twisted his hand over and pressed open his palm with such strength that he gasped. Her eyes were so close to his skin he could feel her hot breath on it. She glanced for a few seconds and then threw his hand back at him. "Dordi!" she exclaimed, and expression that turned Harry's face red with embarrassment.

Harry moved to stand and the iron grip pulled him back. She is one strong old lady, he thought.

"You are tied to the Dark One," she said. "I feel it in the air that surrounds you and see it written in your face." Her talon-like hand, blue-veined with age circled his head. "A dark presence shadows you. Someone who loves you searches for you." Her hand swept over her own closed eyes and she screwed up her face. The frown was suddenly creased by a wide toothless smile. "I see a young woman, no, there are two. A girl, who reads books. She searches in the crystal globe for you."

Harry watched the old woman. If she was talking about Hermione, he was stunned. Hermione had given up divination classes at Hogwarts because she was a skeptic. He thought sure that Hermione was desperate if she was consulting a crystal ball. The old woman fascinated him.

Harry sucked his breath in. He'd seen several of the women in camp with their crystal balls, giving readings to the villagers. He'd learned that their skills were respected and admired by many people. He watched, remembering Professor Trelawney and her obvious fake predictions. There was a something starkly different about this performance.

"The boy with the freckled face stares out into the dark and calls to you in his mind."

Harry shivered. That can only be Ron.

"You will find a way that will kill the Dark Devil," the old woman mumbled. It was clear she was under some kind of spell. Harry swallowed hard. " You will not be with us long, you have a road to travel. At the end of a long road you will see your son."

The old woman opened her eyes and stared at him. Her pipe had gone out and filled with water. The two of them sat staring at one another. "Why do you sit in the rain, Stupid Boy?" she growled at him and got up to crawl under the wagon. Harry sat staring at the empty spot she had left and let the rain soak his cloak.

Harry had watched Trelawney do something very similar in the past by making a prediction about his future. Did Tshaya just do the same? he wondered. Harry looked over at the people huddled under the wagon and felt his heart throbbing painfully in his chest. He knew that he would miss his friends the moment he went out of his bedroom door at the Dursleys. But he didn't think about how they would feel about him. Would Hermione really be crystal ball gazing? Would Ron be sad, calling out his name in the dark? And, who loved him who was looking for him? Dumbledore? Yes, probably. The headmaster had admitted to him at the end of the school year that he cared about him. Dumbledore would be looking and searching.

You will find a way to kill the Dark Devil. That's what Tshaya had said. Harry poked at the dying fire. Please make it true, he wished fervently. And the last, at the end of a long road he would meet his son. If that's true, then I will survive, he thought. I will have a son!

"Tommy, do I have to send the old woman out for you?" Jamud shouted at him furiously.

Snape turned the glass over in his hands. These were only shards. What remained of an old looking glass that had been left in the bottom of Harry's trunk. He searched the other things that he had taken away with him. Books, Quidditch robes, odds and ends. Even Harry's cauldron, the one he used his potion's class.

Snape's hands drifted back to the photo album. He hadn't opened it, dreading what he would find. He had been in Harry's mind the year before when he had attempted occlumency lessons with the boy. The visions were scattered initially, but vivid. And then, Potter had been able to put up a stronger defense until Snape could no longer reach in so easily. The boy's memories were painful to Snape. Some were similar to his own experiences growing up. But he need more clues, something else to follow.

Snape also knew that if he opened the album he would see James Potter and Sirius Black and Lillian Evans. Perhaps others. Those would be his memories, his own painful memories of childhood. Caught in a bind, Snape knew that he must find Harry Potter. The Dark Lord and Dumbledore each pressed him to work harder. There were moments when he didn't know which would be more dangerous. A man who loved or a man who hated.

Snape opened the album.

Harry talked Jolie, "I want to send a letter to a wizard, Jolie. I noticed that your people don't use owls. I don't want anyone to be able to find me." Harry gritted his teeth. He hope that he had been with the Kumpania long enough to trust the tiny man.

"Yes, yes. We can do this," Jolie said, pondering the problem. "We will be near a village soon. I will go with you to mail this letter. Two of us, dressed as Romani. We will not draw attention."

"Are you sure, Jolie? It could be dangerous," Harry said. "There are very dangerous people who are looking for me. People have... died because of me."

Jolie exposed his golden tooth in a grin, "It will take a clever man, then, to do this thing." He thumped his chest and twisted the curl in his moustache. "I am your man."

Harry nodded. Secretly, he worried about the danger. He thought about the rest and peace he was finding staying among the Rom. He shivered at the thought of bringing danger to these people.

The little man clapped him on the back and offered him a pipe. Harry shook his head and smiled feebly.

"Are we not masters of disguise?" Jolie asked seriously. Harry couldn't answer. "It will be alright."

You can't understand what you're saying, Harry thought, sighing in despair.

A week later Harry and Jolie dressed and started the walk to town. The children of the camp followed them for a short distance and they were met by the young girl, Nadya and her mother, Katlana, halfway.

"What are they doing with us?" Harry asked Jolie in English.

"They are our disguise. They go to shop. We go to protect them. The people in the village expect this," Jolie said brushing aside Harry's concern.

"Jolie, I couldn't live with myself if something happened."

The girl, Nadya heard him. "Tell the Gadjo boy that we are strong women and not afraid," she said to Jolie in Romani. Harry knew that she was aware he understood her. He was surprised at the courage expressed in her words.

"Why do they do this for me, if I am Gadjo?" Harry asked, the question pointed in her direction. He watched her profile, the chin stuck out in defiance. He knew it was taboo to speak to her face.

The older woman who was her mother spoke, "Tshaya says that Nadya must do this for her husband-to-be."

"Her what?" Harry stopped. The girl's face flushed, more in anger than embarrassment.

"Enough mother!" Nadya Vloyski shook her mane of black hair and tied it up in a scarlet bandanna. She twisted a large loop earring into her ear and tied an apron around her middle. She was readying herself to go to town. The dark eyes slowly looked up into his face. And he felt a shaft of fire shoot through him like lightening. For a moment he couldn't catch his breath.

Jolie caught the look on Harry's face and took his arm to drag him up the road. "Don't get ideas, young one," he said speaking in English. "Tshaya is old woman and goes lame."

Harry laughed at the way Jolie described the old woman's possible lapse into senility; the way he would describe one of his horses. "Goes lame?"

"No Roma girl marries a Gadjo. They would be sent from the Kumpania." Jolie frowned and pushed Harry ahead. "Come we have a job to do."

Harry wanted very much to tell Jolie that he wasn't ready for marriage. Not to Nadya or anyone else. He'd only just kissed a girl at Hogwarts, Cho Chang, two years ago. No matter how pretty, Harry knew that he had to be careful. The Romani were a people that he had only just begun to know.

The post office was easy to find. Jolie asked Harry to follow his lead. They wandered in and studied the rows of owls lining the walls. It appeared that Jolie was examining each owl in turn. Harry wanted to scream at him to hurry up and choose and get the bloody hell out. Several people wandered in looked at them curiously and wandered out.

"Jolie..." Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

Jolie picked out a plump barn owl and Harry dropped money on the counter and tied the parchment to the owl's outstretched leg. The owl took off through the open roof vents and was gone. Harry was ready to sprint to the door, but Jolie stuck a toothpick into his mouth and sauntered towards the door. It was all Harry could do to not put his hand in the little man's back and shove him.

"Calm yourself, Tommy," he said in Romani, "we are going." They met Nadya and her mother outside the apothecary shop. Nadya pretended to be studying the dragon's liver on sale in big stinking lumps outside the door.

Harry continued to feel nervous. There was something or someone nearby. He could feel it. "Jolie. We need to leave. Something's wrong." Pulling his hat lower over his forehead, Harry nudged the man in the side. Harry checked his vest to make sure the padding they added earlier to make him look larger was still in place.

"I'll be back Tommy."

"What?!" Harry screeched in a whisper. The little man disappeared into a pub next door, leaving Harry alone with Nadya. In the glass of the shop, Harry glimpsed a black robed figure approaching from down the street and said, "Nadya, there is someone that must not see me." He felt panic rising.

She glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "Go. I will take care of this." With a swish of her hips she walked around him and headed up the street towards the dark figure. "Dakkur, en mesh da? (tell your fortune)." The girl was transformed into a woman. She smiled graciously and swished her hips towards the stranger who stopped. He looked like a big black crow standing tall over her.

Snape stopped, looking down at the young girl. He knew that she could be no older than the students he taught at Hogwarts. She was a gypsy girl, dressed too garishly and barefoot.

"No, thank you," he said firmly.

"You have a long life line in your hand. Perhaps reading the cards for you." Her hands slipped easily into a pocket and withdrew her tarot cards. Her head came to Snape's chest and she stretched on tiptoe to smile charmingly in his face. She spoke the only English she knew.

"No. Leave me," Snape said shoving her aside.

Harry watched from the alley. He watched the man roughly shove Nadya aside and continue up the street. It made Harry angry. He wanted to step out and confront the rude behavior. Nadya shrugged and ran across the street and towards the alley. She didn't seem harmed or even disturbed.

Harry was furious when Jolie joined them in the alley. "What the devil was so important, Jolie? I thought you were here to help!" The tiny man nodded and urged them to move quickly out of the village. Nadya and her mother followed more slowly behind them until they were left in the distance.

"You are angry with me, Tommy?" Jolie spoke seriously. "But there was a man in the pub that stared at you with great interest. It seemed he recognized you."

"Did you know him?" Harry frowned.

"No," he said and shook his head.

"Can you describe him?" Harry hurried behind the fast walking man.

"Yes. He had shining white hair. Like a horse's mane. It went to his shoulders," Jolie gestured with his hands. "He was a rich man and used a cane with a serpent on the top."

Malfoy! Harry shuddered. It had to be! He's out of Azkaban. "What did you do?" he asked.

"I went in and bought him a drink," Jolie said shrugging. "I answered his questions. He thought he could talk to this stupid poor gypsy and get information."

Harry was horrified. He knew from experience that being anywhere near Lucius Malfoy was a dangerous game.

"What?" Harry looked behind him at the road. Was Malfoy behind them? "Where is he, Jolie?"

"I put a potion in his drink. He fell asleep at the bar. The owner thought he was drunk and had him removed. He's sleeping it off somewhere in his room at the Inn." Jolie sneered.

"We must get back and get the wagons hitched," Harry said hurrying ahead. "This man that you put to sleep will come awake and he will find you and your family. He will kill all of you without thinking twice." He was almost running. "Jolie!" Harry screamed over his shoulder.

The man caught up and grabbed his arm. "He will not remember any of it."

Harry slowed and looked the man in the eye. "Are you sure?"

Jolie crossed his heart and swore, "You are safe, Harry."

That stopped him. The two stood in the road with the sun setting slowly in the west.

Harry dropped his arms to his side. He felt weak with relief and fear. This was too close, he thought.

Snape walked the streets of the small village and chewed his lip in a fit of unusual frustration. He had not found the trail. He stood in the darkened street away from the lamplight and meditated. He had seen Malfoy earlier and made sure that they did not encounter each other. He'd seen him standing at the bar talking to a small, thin man dressed in the same ragged clothes as the young gypsy girl had worn.

Snape swore under his breath. The girl had been on the street with a younger man before she approached him. The young man had acted strangely and it suddenly seemed clear the girl had acted to protect the boy. Could it be? he pondered. Every trail must be followed.

The tall dark figure, dressed in a floor length, black cloak in mid-summer, walked through the empty street.