Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter Four

Lancre, the Discworld

Nick Cleveland looked over his handiwork with satisfaction. After three or four tries, he had finally succeeded in creating a dugout canoe that would actually float, and was big enough to hold him, Luna, and an assortment of gear.

He had already tested it out, paddling around until he had found a quiet backwater where wild rice grew thickly. While he was not an absolute star at Herbology, he knew more than enough to be able to cast a charm to make plants grow and ripen rapidly, and he had harvested nearly a canoe-ful of wild rice. That, combined with the plump partridges he had shot down with his wand, would make an excellent supper.

Luna had found several hives of wild bees, and had gathered more than enough honey for Nick's purposes. He had put up several jars of diluted honey to make mead with, and had plans to use the rest for a honey-glaze.

All in all, the two castaways were leading a fairly good life, in Nick's own opinion. He blessed the good fortune that both of them were not only magical, but familiar with rural and country life. Nick thought that if someone like Draco Malfoy, or the city-raised Colin Creevey, had been stranded there instead of him and Luna, they'd have starved to death in the middle of what was, to Nick, a bonanza of food. And with magic, things like turning raw clay dug from a clay-bank Luna had found into dishes, jars and other pottery was much easier. Nick honestly pitied muggles; he couldn't have imagined all the work he would have had to do, and all the mistakes he'd have made, trying to do that the muggle way.

And now, having cast the last charms he needed, it was time to test his canoe's true purpose. Standing beside it, he held out his hand. "Up!" The canoe heaved, rolled slightly...and came up to his hand, just like a broom.

Nick smiled broadly. With a canoe that could fly if needed, he knew that he and Luna weren't stranded here in the middle-of-nowhere. He had noticed the days getting shorter, and could see by many signs that autumn was coming, and winter couldn't be far behind. While they'd been quite comfortable so far, he didn't at all fancy the idea of trying to survive a temperate-zone winter camped out in the open.

He planned to load Luna, such of their gear as they'd need on a trip, and himself into the canoe, and head off downstream. From earliest childhood, it had been hammered into his head that going downstream and/or downhill was the way to go if lost; that way, one would eventually run into other people. They'd stay in the water for as much of the trip as he could manage; while he, himself, was a fairly good white-water man, he had no illusions about Luna's background, and he refused to risk her safety. If they came to rough water, they'd fly over it, and the same went for falls. Portaging their gear and the canoe on his back was something he preferred not to do. Particularly since a lot of it was heavy; deer hides, transfigured to tanned hide with an application of oak bark and a spell or two, made a fine tent, but it was much heavier than the Muggle versions he'd seen in use back at home.

For a second, he was racked with aching homesickness. He was tired...tired down deep in his soul. He loved Luna dearly, but she wasn't his girlfriend; she was more like the little sister he had lost, or the daughter he sometimes hoped he'd have one day. He was tired of being the one who was always supposed to pull miracles out of his hat; he was afraid that one day he'd reach in and, instead of a rabbit, pull forth a handful of rabbit scat. He missed Hogwarts. He'd have given anything even to get another detention. He particularly missed the libraries; they had been his home-from-home from the minute he had discovered them. Even for a Ravenclaw, he was considered rather bookish.

Nick knew Luna was homesick sometimes, too, although normally she was very cheery and took their altered circumstances very much in her stride. They didn't sleep far from each other, although he had finally managed to persuade her that staying in her own bed, instead of crawling in with him when she had nightmares, was a good idea. He had heard her crying in the night..."I miss my Daddy!" He knew that Luna and her father were very close, and hated to think of how much such a separation must have hurt both of them. I'm sorry, Luna...

If they did have to leave, Nick hoped they'd find civilisation soon. With their magical skills, he figured they wouldn't have any trouble making some sort of living, and as long as the locals didn't have some absurd prejudice against magic, such as he had read of in his History of Magic lessons, they wouldn't have any trouble. And if they do have such a prejudice...he smiled grimly. If they did find out that the locals disliked or feared magic, they could either travel onward, or operate clandestinely.

A shadow passed by overhead, but Nick didn't particularly pay it any mind; he was absorbed with figuring out how much food he could pack aboard the canoe and still have room for himself, Luna, and some basic camping gear.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Granny Weatherwax was not in a good mood. In other words, she was feeling completely normal. She had just come back from Genua, and having to deal with her sister hadn't improved her disposition any. This was the first day she'd been able to go flying, and she was checking up on everything in Lancre to make sure that things were going the way they should.

She had spotted a plume of smoke where she didn't think one should be...in a patch of wilderness a few miles up the river from Bad Ass. She could also sense the presence of a real talent...someone who'd be a powerful witch in her own right, once she was trained. And, as the senior witch in Lancre, she felt it her duty to investigate.

When she flew by, she was startled to see a campsite along the river, where it widened to form a small lake. She approved of how the site was laid out; whoever had done it knew his business. On the shingle near the lake, she saw a man working, and came in for a landing to see who he was and what he was doing.

She found herself staring at the back of a young man of the sort that she knew her friend Nanny Ogg would approve of highly; he was lean, tanned, well-muscled, and working hard enough that he hadn't even noticed her landing. He was dressed in a cloth shirt and what looked to Granny Weatherwax very much like tanned deerhide trousers and boots.

After a minute or two, Granny Weatherwax decided she was tired of being ignored. She cleared her throat loudly, and the strange man jumped, turning around to face her.

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

Nick was absorbed in stuffing the two birds he'd caught with wild rice, and had dropped his usual guard. Things had been so peaceful that he'd allowed the guard-wards he had originally set around their camp to lapse; they did take a certain amount of energy to run.

He was startled out of his reverie by a loud throat-clearing noise behind him, and whirled, to find himself facing what, at first, seemed to be a familiar person. "Professor McGonagall...no, you aren't Professor McGonagall, are you?" At first, the resemblance was uncannily close, but Nick's sharp eye had rapidly noticed differences in detail. He had had a moment of wild hope that they'd finally been found, and could go back to Hogwarts, and disappointment soured his mood rapidly.

"Nope. I ain't any 'professor,' young feller. I'm here for that girl. The one you've got around this camp." Nick bristled at this; he had promised himself to protect Luna, and protect her he would, no matter who came around to try to get her!

"And what makes you think that I'm in the habit of handing my friends over to any old lady that comes around asking? I don't know you from Job's off-ox, and I don't know why you want her, and I'm not free to turn her over to you anyway! Who are you to come into my camp and start giving me orders?" Nick unobtrusively wiggled his left arm, letting his wand drop into his hand by his side from the shoulder-sheath he kept it in when not in use.

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

It had been a long, long time since anybody in Lancre had dared speak to Granny Weatherwax in such a way. For a second, she was rocked back on her heels by sheer shock and amazement. Then her eyes narrowed. This sounded like a direct challenge to her authority...and she only knew one way to react to a challenge. She could see that "headology" wouldn't work in this case; if this stranger had argued with her, instead of giving her a blank refusal, she'd have tried it, but there was only one thing to do. Gathering her power, she sent a powerful blast at this impudent young man.

Much to her surprise, it didn't seem to affect him much; he stepped back, his eyes widening and one hand going to the breast of his shirt, but he wasn't downed. With his free hand, he raised what Granny recognized as a magical wand...and a powerful one, at that...and screamed "Protego Maxima!"

Granny tried another blast, but, much to her shock, it bounced off what felt like an invisible shield in the air. The young man grinned at her...or, at least, he showed his teeth. Granny had seen friendlier smiles on hungry wolves. He pointed his wand and yelled another incomprehensible word, and she felt herself being forced to dance in place.

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

Nick was worried behind his outward show of confidence. If he hadn't been wearing his Arrows-of-Chaos pendant with its permanent Protego, the strange witch's first attack would have knocked him arse over teakettle, if he was any judge. That said, he hadn't been one of Professor Flitwick's proteges for nothing...and one thing that the diminutive Head of Ravenclaw taught his favorite pupils was duelling. "I'll not have it said that a Ravenclaw went down to the first tramp with a wand that they ran across...not on my watch they won't!"

Instinctively, he threw up the strongest shield he could, then went with a Tarantellegra, figuring to keep this strange witch off, at least, while he probed her defenses and figured out just how powerful she was. He didn't want to hurt her; he didn't know but that she was on legitimate business, but no one came into his camp demanding Luna without satisfying him, Nicholas Cleveland, that their business was legitimate! And if that meant a fight...well, he figured he could use the practice, and having a target to focus his fear and anger on would feel very good, indeed.

END Chapter 04