Chapter Seven: Ginseng
PANAX TRIFOLIUM= dwarf ginseng (yunwi usdi) adaptogen, carminative, nutritive. Common spring ground cover. Bulbs eaten to strengthen lungs and resistance to colds. Leaves contain Ginsenosides; add to any traditional herb formula to increase effectiveness and activity. Source; Nvwoti: Cherokee Medicine and Ethnobotany, c. David Winston AHG 2001
Time: After Midnight 7/14/95, (Memory Time Line: June 27, 1979)
"When they say there are more ghosts in Hogwarts than any other one place in Great Britain, they aren't counting the inside of my head," thought Sirius. From the moment he had recognized Sapphire, standing outside Grimmauld, wearing the blanket wrap that her granny had woven with the odd Cherokee runes, his mind had been haunted.
At the first sound of her singing, a veritable hornet's nest of memories had swarmed from the graves he had so long ago buried them in. Habits of self preservation told him to force them back into silence, but something else -- something that had lain quiet for so long he had thought it dead -- begged him to turn from the reflexive vision of Pettigrew's mocking face. That something was... what? Hope? A ghost for sure, he believed; and wasn't he as good as one himself?
But Sapphire was no ghost, and she seemed to be calling him back to a life he had thought long over. Surely, all the spirits in Hogwarts together couldn't equal the commotion that now knocked , bumped and howled in his thoughts. Tired though he was, Sirius knew he would not sleep tonight. He sat up, pulled on his house robe and descended to the kitchen.
Pawing through the cupboards, looking for something to brew into a pot of tea, Sirius put his hand on a bag of ginseng root. Breathing it's earthy smell summoned new recollections of Granny M's cabin and the summer of '79 . Sirius had not been surprised to find no sign of a wizard's bank in the little town of Etowah, but from there it wasn't hard to bum a ride into Chattanooga, where careful observation and persistence soon got him what he needed.
He had a week left before his flight home, and had planned to apparate back to the Nantahala River for a go at the level five rapids, but found his mind kept returning to the little cabin. "Well, one doesn't want to splinch one's self," he laughed, and made his apparation to a brushy spot behind the McNiven hay shed. Before the motion stopped, he heard the argument.
"Granny, you need to take your pills. Look how swollen your feet are!"
Granny M's voice returned, "I'll take 'em later. I'm busy now."
"Sure you will!" Sapphire sounded exasperated. "Well, at least use some dandelion tea. If I fix some, will you drink it?"
"Not now, honey. It's too warm today fer tea. Don't worry about me, I've been lookin' after myself fer a long time."
"Which makes it a wonder that you're still here! You'll do what you want, obviously, regardless of how much I worry about you. Now that Sirius is gone, and I can leave you alone, I'm going up to the north pasture and see if there's any ginseng ready to harvest. Maybe the poachers didn't get it all this weekend."
"Be sure t' save th' seed. Yunwi Usdi is a great gift, and we ..."
"Granny! When do I ever waste anything! I've spent too much time around you and daddy."
"Your mother likes t' throw out useful things..."
"And I drive her crazy saving everything. Never fear, you've ruined me completely."
The women both laughed, and Sirius peered around the shed to see Sapphire open the cabin door.
Reaching behind the door frame, she drew out a rifle. Could that be the thing she'd been hiding all along, and not a wand? Well, who knew what the gun could really do. After all, there was a rumor that Hogwarts' gamekeeper could use an umbrella like a wand. Sirius transformed into a dog, lay in the bushes, and watched as she slipped a bridle and packsaddle onto Jack and rode him across the back pasture. Would she return to the meadow where he had first heard her sing, he wondered? He very much wanted to watch that ritual again. As soon as she was out of sight, he followed.
It was a long trip, and Sirius lagged more and more behind the big mule as they went. When he heard the voices up ahead, he slowed with caution.
"In as much as it's on my family's land, it makes more sense to ask why you are trespassing." Sapphire's voice was tense.
A man answered. "I've heard that people git shot for poachin' 'sang, ya' know."
"Then you should leave our Ginseng alone."
The man laughed. Sirius' hackles raised at sound. "You sure are funny. I like the way you make me laugh."
Sapphire said nothing. Sirius could hear digging sounds and guessed she was harvesting the plants while she argued with the man.
"You not gonna talk to me now, huh?" he said. There was no answer. "I thought we were good neighbors. Why won't you talk to me?"
"I've said everything there is to say. Now I've got work to do. Why don't you leave me to do it?"
The man laughed again. Sirius could hear meanness in him. "Oh, I guess a college ed'gicated person like you is too good to talk to regular folks like me, huh?" Sapphire was silent. The man continued. "Is it true that your Ind'gin granny is a witchy woman?" The sound of dry leaves crunching was the only reply. "They say she's a witchy woman. Are you a witchy woman too?" Still no answer. "Maybe I should be afraid of the witchy women." The man's voice grew shrill with mock fright. "Are you gonna witch me? Ooh, I'm so afraid of the Ind'gin witchy woman! Maybe she's witched me already. Maybe I'm turning into a green ol' bullfrog. Ain't I supposed to kiss somethin' to change back? Le's see here..."
"Get away!" He heard Sapphire shout, along with a crash of breaking twigs and a snort from the mule. A low growl escaped Sirius' throat involuntarily. There was a long silence, and Sirius feared they had heard him. He crept carefully closer, hoping to see what the situation was.
"I'd be careful where I pointed that thing if I'us you." The man spoke in a menacing tone. "If you pull that trigger, my pap'll put you away for a long time." "Get off our land," Sapphire answered.
"You McNivens are gettin' too big for yer britches."
"You think because your father is sheriff, that you can make your own laws. As soon as we can afford a surveyor who isn't afraid to tell the truth, you'll see what belongs to whom. You don't scare me. Now go."
But Sirius could hear that she was afraid. And now he could see as well. Coming over a small rise, he found Sapphire standing behind Jack, the rifle pointing across his back at a young man. Sirius' hackles rose again. He liked nothing about this fellow; not his smell, not the way his rolled up tee-shirt sleeves revealed muscular arms, not the way he stood - hips thrust forward and his thumbs in his belt loops -- as he leered at Sapphire insolently across the mule's back.
Sirius growled again, then sank to the ground as the man turned his head to look. Sapphire had heard too, he thought. Her head had turned almost imperceptibly, thought her eyes didn't leave the young man. For whatever reason, Sirius could see that Sapphire was reluctant to use the gun. She also seemed to be in real trouble.
What to do? If he rushed the man in dog form, he might frighten Sapphire, who would have no way of recognizing him. He couldn't put a freezing spell on the gun in dog form, so there was no predicting what might come of that. Could he transform without being seen or heard? The man had stopped looking in his direction. Sirius crouched as small as possible and transformed. He immediately lost his balance and had to stand to avoid rolling out of the bush and down the hill.
Sapphire had turned entirely in his direction now, her mouth open in astonishment. Trying to look intimidating as he knocked twigs out of his hair, Sirius addressed the man. "The lady asked you to get off her property. You should do as she says."
The man was startled too, but he recovered his facade immediately as he sized up Sirius. It was clear he was measuring Sirius' superior height against his own shorter, but sturdy frame, and trying to guess whether this stranger knew how to fight.
"You're a far'ner." The man popped his scared knuckles and sneered. "You don't know what you're a'talkin' about. You see, Mr. far'ner, this here is Morton property and you and her is trespassin'."
" I have a witness, now," Sapphire said, "and I reckon he saw what you did before I raised this rifle, so you'd better get on home." Her eyes rested on Sirius for a moment. That was all it took.
The man was fast, but Sapphire was faster. He lunged toward Jack and caught at the barrel of the gun. She raised it and backed out of his reach, leaving him to scrabble across Jack's back. Jack let out an indignant "Hee-aw" and turned his hind quarters toward the man, who slid off, rolled and jumped up.
Now the man and Sapphire were behind Jack, hidden from Sirius' sight except legs and the man's head. The man grabbed again at the rifle again and this time there was nothing between them. Sapphire screamed, and the man collapsed on the ground before her. She stared at him, stared at the rifle, stared back at the fallen man. There had been no report from the gun. The man lay on the ground with his legs twitching like a dying spider.
"Get away from him," Sirius said, as he jogged toward them. Before he reached their side of Jack, he stopped. The man's legs stopped twitching, but his face made up for it, contorting in terror as he scrambled to his feet and backed away.
"What did you do to me!" He rasped, hoarse with fear.
"I didn't do anything. You tripped on your own feet," Sapphire spat back. Her eyes kept traveling back and forth between the man and Sirius. "Now get lost. Next time, I will pull the trigger."
"Damn, you are a witchy woman!" With that, he backed into the trees about ten feet and then turned to run.
Sapphire stared at Sirius. Sirius stared at his feet. "Are you OK?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure," Sapphire said in a strained voice. He could tell she was making an effort to look and sound calm and in control. "Thanks for -- for, you know, backing me up..."
"Don't mention it, " Sirius replied. "I'm not sure you needed any help, though."
Sapphire gave a forced smile, then they fell silent for a good while. "You're back," she said, finally.
"Yeah, I am." Sirius wasn't sure how much of what had just happened she understood. He would let her lead the conversation.
"Did you go to Etowah?"
"Found it just like you said."
"Did you get your money?"
"Had to hitch into Chattanooga for that."
"Oh, sorry."
"No, not at all. You put me on the right road."
"What are you doing here?"
"Getting you out of trouble." Sirius grinned, then he ungrinned. He still wasn't sure if Sapphire was witch or muggle, and he couldn't claim to have really done anything without revealing himself. As far as she knew, maybe the man did trip. If she recognized the jelly-legs jinx, she hadn't let on - but then again, maybe only English schoolboys used that hex. He's never seen it in a spell book. It wasn't generally considered a practical spell, in spite of immediate evidence to the contrary.
To his relief, she merely shrugged and said, "I was glad to have a witness. If I'd had to shoot him, there'd have been heck to pay."
"Will he give you any more trouble?" Sirius wondered if the man's assertions that Sapphire was a witch merited an obliviation attempt. Of course, that would also make him forget that trying to force himself on her had been a bad idea. And what about Sapphire's behavior? Had she refrained from using magic to defend herself just because she didn't want the muggle man to see it, or was brandishing that gun the best she could do?
While Sirius pondered this, Sapphire stared silently into the woods. When she did speak, she changed the subject.
"You didn't tell me how you found me out here." He noticed she was cradling the rifle in a way that she could raise it quickly. He would leave the freezing spell on for a bit.
"Dumb luck."
"This is as far from the road as our property gets."
"It was a long walk."
"Lost again?"
"Um, yeah." Sirius dropped his head, hoping she would mistake his relief for embarrassment. "I must have lost the road and walked right past your cabin."
"If you don't mind another long walk, I'm sure you're welcome to stay for lunch."
Sirius looked at Jack. Sapphire followed his eyes. "Sorry, seating for one only."
"That's OK." Sirius meant it too. He had never ridden a mule and was not anxious to try.
"Rest your legs while I finish here." Sapphire waved her hand at some mossy turf. Sirius sat, she kneeled and resumed digging.
"That's Ginseng," he observed.
"Very good, city boy."
"It makes things stronger- makes the other ingredients work better." There had been a term for this in potions class. Was it 'activator'? Did muggles ever use the word? Maybe he could get some clues if they talked about plants. He had quit the greenhouse after his OWLS, and stopped potions after his sixth year. Now he wished he'd applied himself a bit more to both.
Sapphire raised her dark brows and nodded her approval. "How do you know this?"
Sirius felt stupid. Of course, she could ask questions about his knowledge too, and what could he safely answer? He opted for minimal truth. "I learned it in school."
"What subject?"
"Er.., you know, plant studies."
"Could the word you want be 'botany'?" She made a pained face.
"Right, botany!" So much for impressing her with his plant knowledge.
"You can't be much more than a freshman?" Sirius didn't know how to answer that, so he just smiled. Sapphire shrugged and continued,
"Was it a regular botany course, or an ethnobotany course?"
"Yeah, that's right!" Sirius prayed she wouldn't ask for clarification. He got lucky.
"I never heard of any school that teaches ethno at the undergraduate level. I have to wait till graduate school before I can specialize... not that I can't learn plenty from Granny without any school. So, what college was this?"
"Hogwarts." What else could he say?
"Sorry, never heard of it. Where's it located?"
"Scotland. In the highlands."
"Near...?"
"It's not too near any city you'd know." Was it possible that American witches wouldn't have heard of Hogwarts? Maybe not in rural areas. He was having more doubts.
Fortunately, Sapphire was distracted just then. She was rolling one of the dug roots in her fingers, eyeing it and smelling the leaves. She ran her eyes over the whole patch, looked up at the trees, pinched a bit of soil and tasted it. She spat. "You know much about ginseng? What do you think of this?"
She threw straight, and Sirius easily caught the plant. He smelled something familiar. His dog transformations had put him in the habit of using his nose for information. The greenhouse at Hogwarts smelled like this. It wasn't the plants, it was... "Fertilizer." He had almost said 'mooncalf dung', which it almost certainly was.
"You see it too, then?" Sirius didn't admit this ginseng looked like all the other to him. She continued, "But how?" This wasn't a test. She really didn't know. That wasn't surprising; mooncalves were rare. He glanced at the clearing nearby for signs of mating dances. It looked likely.
"Something dropped a turd near your plant."
"That's all I can think of. Wish it would drop a few more." Sapphire approached to take the root from his hand. Sirius didn't let go for a second, grinning as their hands touched.
A troubled look passed over her face, which turned into a scowl. She turned back to the patch, and started scattering the ginseng's red berries. She was careful to push several into the area of extra fertile dirt. She was singing again -- something about a woman who disguised herself as a soldier and followed her lover into battle.
She stroked the leaves of the undug plants, then turned to Sirius. "I sing to the plants to make them productive, and to remind myself to be grateful for these good gifts."
"That's an interesting incant..., I mean the words you sing don't seem.... Well, what I'm trying to ask is, why does that particular song make these plants grow?"
She laughed. "You make it sound like I'm casting a spell! Maybe you'd better run after Jake Morton!"
Was she giving him a hint, he wondered? "Do you sing different songs for harvesting different plants?"
Sapphire looked thoughtful. "I never thought about them having preferences. I'll have to explore that possibility. No, I just sing what I like. My daddy loves singing. Almost before I could talk, we used to sing together in the car. It drove Earl, my brother crazy. He would about crawl under the seat."
"You have a brother?"
"One."
"Does he come here, too?"
"He used to, but now I pretty much have granny to myself."
"My brother'll finish school this year. He's a year and a half younger."
"Mine's older. Seven years." She was packing the ginseng into Jack's saddle bags now.
"Bet he teased you lots growing up."
"You'd win that bet. But he was sort of protective too. At least, when we were younger, before..." She frowned and hoisted herself onto the mule.
"Where's your pack?"
"My...? Oh, thanks! I almost forgot!" Sirius usually shrank and levitated his pack so that if he wanted to transform, he could easily carry it in his teeth. Today, he had re-enlarged it behind the hay shed, and left it there. He couldn't say he'd been lost if the pack was back at the cabin. He trotted up the rise and behind the bushes he'd hidden in before. A quick transformation of a rock, and he emerged with a bag.
Sapphire smiled when she saw it, and offered a rope to tie it to Jack's saddle. Sirius was glad he had used a reasonably heavy rock. "Let's go."
"Your granny won't mind?"
"No, she says you should always feed the stray. Something about earning passage between two spirit dogs that guard the path to the afterlife." She observed Sirius consternation and laughed. "Don't look so spooked. It's just an old story."
But he couldn't forget the comment. Had she seen him before he transformed? He was fairly sure not. Maybe those growls gave him away? She seemed flippant enough, but soon he had a chance to wonder again.
As they approached the cabin, Granny greeted them from the porch. "Well, well, look who's here!" she called to them. "You feed a stray an' it comes right back!"
"He almost got to watch me shoot Jake Morton," Sapphire began.
Granny's face went sober. "Did ya find anything?"
"No, I think we've eradicated everything Earl planted, and if Jake's planted any I didn't see it. He may have just been taking the ginseng. But he tried to put his hands on me. I had the rifle on him and thought he was going to make me use it, when the strangest thing happened." Sapphire paused and looked at Sirius. He tried to look disinterested.
"Go on," Granny prompted.
"He made a grab for the gun. Just when I thought I'd have to pull the trigger, he fell... had some sort of fit. He lay on the ground and his legs were just twitching. I've never seen the like. Then he got up and ran off saying I had 'witched' him. He acted like he believed it. Sirius showed up just about then; he saw it all."
Now Granny looked at Sirius. " In th' old days, when the "Nn'h" pr'tected th' lands of the Cherokee, they were invisible, except fer their weapons. Today it seems God has sent us a pr'tector who's weapons we cain't see. "
Sirius had all he could do not to flinch. He tried to look bemused. "It was very odd, the way he fell. All that flailing around - like a fish on the beach." Sirius hoped he sounded innocent enough. To his relief, no more was said on the subject.
The cabin's electricity was now restored, and granny invited him in for a hot shower before dinner. The tiny bathroom had obviously been added rather recently - this cabin was far older than indoor plumbing. When he emerged from it, wearing only his swim trunks, Sapphire had given him the once over. She pretended to be engrossed in mixing biscuits, but he saw her eyes follow the drops of water that tickled their way down his long legs. He walked up to her, his bare chest inches from her face. She raised her eyes to his - but slowly. Her face was a studied blank.
"Can I do something for you?" There was an annoyed edge in her voice. He could smell lavender and other nice things standing here so close to her. He had dated several girls who used lavender scent spells on their hair. Maybe she did, too. Sapphire's scent seemed a bit more complex. He imagined burying his nose in those raven locks.
Grinning, he held out a bundle of clothes. "Your granny said I could wash these. Where do I put them?"
Sapphire pointed with her head. "Back porch. There's an old washer back there and some washing powder." She hesitated. "No, you'd better just put them on the porch floor. You wouldn't know where to start with that old machine -probably'd put your hand through the wringer. I'll take care of them."
"That's kind of you," Sirius said, and turned as though to leave, then paused at some shelves that ran along the cabin's wall. They were crammed with bottles, bags and tins. Some held food stuff, but most appeared to be full of herbs. Many he recognized as common ingredients for potions. His eyes strayed to an iron caldron that sat near a partly boarded up hearth. (The women had been cooking on a propane gas stove, squeezed in next to an ancient wood stove which ran it's pipe into the flue. The wood stove seemed to be serving entirely as counter space and was half covered with Mason jars.) The iron pot was rusty and full of dusty kindling wood. There was no sign that anyone had brewed a potion here in years, but appearances were easy to alter.
He imagined he felt Sapphire's eyes on his back. Was it another appreciative assessment, or did she know what he was thinking?
Just then she spoke. "That's our stock of herbs. Granny's grandmother was trained in herbal remedies by her birth family. The knowledge has been passed down to me, and I hope to write a book someday that will keep that knowledge alive. Some of those plants are quite poisonous if used in ignorance. You shouldn't bother them."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Sirius turned and smiled at her. She looked a bit anxious, but it was hard to say why. He now knew her rifle was real enough. He had taken off the freezing spell just in time when, on the way home that day, she had suddenly sighted on a rabbit. If she was that accurate with a muggle gun, (if indeed that was all it was) she should be amazing with a proper wand. He left the room, still wondering.
Sapphire still stayed near the rifle and seemed watchful while he was inside, but she was starting to laugh at his jokes- even the dumb ones, and he told plenty of those. The more clever jokes he knew, he couldn't tell, as they either involved magical topics, or were questionable for use in mixed company. But he so liked to hear Sapphire's musical laughter, and see her dark eyes light up beneath the shadow of her exotically strong brow, that he was willing to make quite a clown of himself. He grinned with real pleasure even when she rolled her eyes and made remarks about 'British humor'.
He stayed another four days. Mornings, he would knock on the door and come in for breakfast -it was too hot to eat inside for lunch or dinner - and help with the dishes after. If the ladies left him alone with his chore, they pretended amazement at how fast he could wash and dry.
Finally, he could stay no longer. "Could I come back and visit you two next summer?" he asked Granny, as she handed him a brown bag full of ham biscuits. "I want to hear more of your stories."
Granny smiled, but didn't answer for a minute. Her eyes seemed a little sad. Finally, she spoke. "You come back to th' cabin anytime, young man. I'm sure you'll be welcome."
Sapphire was looking at Granny and biting her lips. She only nodded as Sirius waved his good-bye.
@4329 words, Last Edit 07/14/07
Chapter Six: Remembering White Water
Time: Almost Midnight 7/13/95 (Memory Time Line: mid-June, 1979)
In Azkaban, sometimes day was almost as black as night. Sirius kept one lamp burning in his bedroom, so that if he woke before dawn, he would know instantly that the darkness had been only the latest bad dream. Everyone told him that he was quite safe from dementors inside 12 Grimmauld, but his gut said otherwise. When his dog self had plunged into those frigid waters, he had nothing left to lose. He had never expected to elude them this long, and had always believed that, someday, they would claim their prey. But for now, the little lamp and the occasional potion kept these thoughts and the dark at bay.
In Azkaban's cells, he had learned to have but one thought -- to drive all other thoughts away with the one. Since then, he had managed to think of very little but the present moment, until today. Today, the past had forced it's way into Grimmauld, into the present. He clinched his fists as he lay on the bed and, grim faced against waves of panic, launched into the currents of memory.
These memories might as well be from another man's pensieve, he thought. It seemed almost impossible that he had ever been the unburdened young man he now recalled in scenes summoned from the twilight of forgetting. That trip to the States had been a genuine lark -- an appropriately large and exuberant celebration of the end of 7 years of Hogwarts. Not that he didn't appreciate the party Mr. and Mrs. Potter had thrown for James, himself and their closest friends, or the Magi-Cook crock pot from his cousin Andromeda. (He could still hear cousin Andie quizzing him about his diet and declaring that he would develop some unpronounceable disease if he didn't eat a few vegetables now and again, rather than subsisting solely on butterbeer and cold sandwiches.) But still he had felt the official beginning of his adult life required something more. He already had his own apartment. Getting a "good job" could wait. And so it was that Sirius decided to spend a summer seeing America.
His original plan was that the four marauders would go together, but James wouldn't be away from Lily and, in those days before Wolfsbane potion was commonly used, Remus thought it irresponsible to be on unfamiliar territory with only one companion during a full moon or three. And Peter - well, Sirius couldn't remember his official excuse, but hindsight was 20-20 in this case.
It was several months before he gave up trying to persuade his friends to come, so it wasn't until the spring of 1979 that Sirius folded his over six feet into a muggle airplane, and discovered the joys of claustrophobia. When he deplaned at LaGuardia, he wanted nothing more than to stay outdoors a while. The tourist's guide he had read to distract himself on the plane had made a great deal of white water kayaking in the Southern Appalachians, and he soon located an opportunity to try it. He wasn't disappointed. It had been like riding a great, cold, muddy-green dragon, bucking, lunging and writhing it's way between boulders that flew at the kayak like so many monstrous bludgers, while the spray rose like the steam of it's angry breath. He had never imagined a muggle sport could be that much fun.
By mid June, following several runs down the Ocoee and Hiwassee rivers, his muggle money ran out. He had suspicions that the wizard money changer he had used in New York had cheated him, and he didn't care at all to try and apparate so far back to the seedy neighborhood where he had found him. There was nowhere in the middle of a national forest he could make an exchange from galleons to dollars, let alone draw on his Gringott's account, so he began wandering aimlessly in a vague pursuit of some source of revenue, not to mention food and drink. Being raised in London hadn't equipped him much as a woodsman, so living off the land for long in human form was difficult.
It was in this state that, early on the 21st of June, he set off in what he hoped was the general direction of civilization, wondering as he walked if he wouldn't do well to change into a dog and run down a rabbit. The chill mists of dawn failed to dissipate as the sun grew high behind him, but rather gathered themselves into a thin drizzle that turned the mosses and trees into vivid greens and rich browns, and doubled the musky sweet scent of the eons of leaf mold he slushed through. He might have remembered that hike as quite pleasant if he hadn't been so damned hungry. Just as he was thinking he'd better catch a rabbit before he was too faint to transform, he heard the song - distant and barely audible, but there was no mistaking it; a woman was singing.
Navigating with the keen ears of the dog form he quickly assumed, he trotted toward the sound. Even after so many years, he could still recall in detail his first sight of her. Her cape-like outer garment, which was drawn over her head to ward off the rain, was covered with unfamiliar runes. She was bent over, gathering plants from a little meadow and singing as she did. He had guessed she was performing a midsummer ritual peculiar to American witches; and a witch she must be. The more he had listened, the more he knew this was magic, but not any he was familiar with. Her song drew him. The strength of this alien entrancement had caused his dog's body to tremble with an odd mingling of joy and fear. This he remembered so vividly that a little shiver erupted and made Sirius reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed.
He hadn't revealed himself right away, but, waiting until she left the clearing, he followed her home by scent, stopping along the way to devour a fat frog, and so stave off starvation another day. He had been disappointed to find that the woman did not lead him to a village, but only a single cabin. There would be no choice now. Unless he wanted to take his chances in the woods again, he would have to approach the woman directly.
The low clouds had finally cleared, but shortly before reaching the cabin there appeared towering thunder heads that shook the sultry air with loud promises of violent weather. Slipping undetected under the cabin porch, Sirius covered dog ears with paws and tried not to whimper while it seemed all the bolts of Jove were being hurled at the acre he lay on.
By the time the storm was well over, dusk was advancing under the surrounding heavy tree canopy. From inside the cabin, only what seemed the light of a single candle or wand could be seen. He decided morning would be a safer time to introduce himself; beating a hasty retreat in this unfamiliar woods after dark might be perilous. A curious old mule stabled in a rude shed near the cabin gave this strange dog a thorough sniffing, but seemed to accept him and raised no alarm as he relocated to a bed of dry, soft hay and curled up for the night.
As his stomach rumbled him awake the next morning, he reverted to man shape, enlarged his pack enough to make it obvious he was backpacking -- not to mention letting it serve as a rear shield against hexes -- screwed up his courage, and knocked on the cabin's heavy plank door. One hand stayed positioned casually near his wand pocket as the door creaked open just far enough for two pairs of well matched wide brown eyes to look out. One pair belonged to a young woman, no doubt the one he had followed; the other were set in a face so wizened that Sirius judged the witch behind them might be older than Albus Dumbledore.
He wondered how many hexes a witch that old would have in her arsenal, with which to punish young men who got too fresh with her granddaughter, as such he guessed the young woman to be. The eyes continued to scrutinize him impassively, and he found himself wishing for a hat to remove in deference -- or just a rock to crawl under. But an empty stomach gives courage when nothing else will, and the smells coming from the cabin were more than a little enticing; so when the old woman asked in a rather nasal burr, "And who might you be?", he offered what he hoped was a disarming smile and introduced himself.
The young woman looked a little puzzled, but the crone replied, "You 'us named after th' dog star."
"Yes, ma'am," said Sirius, wondering if she was a legilimens. It was the first time since he'd left London that he hadn't had to spell his name before it was understood.
"It's hidden in th' sun this time a' year." Her eyes continued to drill holes in him. He wondered uncomfortably if somehow she disapproved of that particular star.
"I was hoping you could help a traveler find food and lodging, and perhaps a bank?", he said. The pairs of eyes turned to each other, then settled again on Sirius.
"You're not from around here," the young woman said in a broad voweled accent, with less bur in it than the crone's. Even her speech was full of music, Sirius thought.
"Oh, no. I'm from England," he explained.
The women's eyes met again. "Are you lost?", the young one asked.
"A little," he replied, trying hard to sound unconcerned.
"Etowah's the nearest town of any size. It's eight or nine miles as the crow flies, but almost twice that if you keep to the main roads. That little road picks up three-fifteen." She indicated a rutted path barely discernible under the leaves and brush. "Go west on thirty at Reliance and probably you can hitch the last bit on the highway."
Sirius was wondering if he had the strength to apparate nine miles to a place he'd never seen in his famished condition, when the old woman said, "Fetch us a pail a' water from th' pump behind the house." She indicated a large bucket on the porch near him. "When ya get back, there'll be somethin' for ya." The door closed.
He had wondered first why they didn't just "accio" for the water. Then it occurred to him that maybe they only wanted to get rid of him. Hoping for the best, he had approached the pump, which had a small can of water hanging on the spigot, opposite the long handle. He put the bucket under the spigot and lifted the handle. Nothing happened. Shrugging, he lifted his wand to the spigot mouth and summoned the water he knew was below. "Finite" he commanded when the bucket was nearly full.
He trudged back to the front porch to find an empty jelly jar, presumably for water, and a plate with a large piece of chewy, salty ham, two fluffy rounds of bread resembling scones (they call them "biscuits" over there, he remembered, smiling into the dark of his room) slices of deep red tomato and scrambled eggs. Obviously the women hadn't taken time to heat what he assumed were mostly leftovers; except for the eggs, the food was just "room temperature," but it didn't matter. In fact, he couldn't remember food ever tasting better.
He dug in like a starving man -- which, in fact, he nearly was. As he swallowed, he considered that there could be any sort of potion or poison in this food he had accepted from strangers. He didn't care. If the strange witches poisoned him, at least he'd die on a good meal.
As he chewed, he heard the door close behind him. Turning quickly, he saw no one; but the water pail was gone and two more biscuits, this time full of jam, had appeared on a plate not four feet from him. It did not then occur to him to wonder why he had heard no steps on the porch. There were many ways to silently levitate and summon buckets and plates.
After mopping up the last crumb and resting gratefully against the porch posts for a few minutes, Sirius gathered his dishes and knocked on the cabin door. "I'm returning your plates," he called out, stepping back a respectful distance from the threshold. The door opened a crack. He had been prepared to put the dishes on the floor and back away, but the young woman extended her left hand and took them from him. He noticed that she kept her right hand, presumably her wand hand, hidden behind the door.
"That was wonderful!" Sirius said, quite sincerely. "Is there anything else I can do to pay for my meal?"
"You're welcome to it," the young woman said. She seemed on one hand nervous about opening the door between them, but also curious about this strange young foreigner on the porch. It occurred to Sirius that the two women might not have many visitors of any sort out here. As an awkward silence threatened to evolve, the crone's face appeared in the door. She eyed the almost spotless plates. "How long, not countin' just now, since you've et', young man?" she asked pointedly.
Sirius felt it would be risky to lie to one so experienced. "Well, I've, ... um, been traveling a while. Living off the land a bit you know."
The two women stood looking at him, as though he were a small child trying to claim that the wand scribble on the wall got there by itself. He hadn't wanted to reveal his dilemma to strangers, but there seemed no way around it. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, he thought, and continued, "If you have any work for me, I would love to earn another meal, or a few dollars if you could?"
"How much do you need to get where you need to go?" the young woman asked.
"I just need a bit to tide me over till I can draw some money from my bank account," Sirius said quickly.
"I have a little money but it's hard to convert it to mu... to the local currency." He'd almost said "to muggle money", but with the accustomed caution of dangerous times, he decided at the last second that he'd better have a bit more proof before he spoke to these two like his own kind. Besides, one didn't want to run afoul of the secrecy laws in a foreign country.
"I suppose the bank in Etowah could do all that," the young woman said, "but walking you'll never make it before closing. It'll be Monday before you can get your money changed." Immediately after saying this, she gave a start and looked as though she'd just seen a thestral. Biting her lips, she turned wide eyes on the crone, but the old woman still stared at Sirius with an inscrutable face. "Do ya mind sleepin' on a hay bed?" she asked.
"No, not a bit," said Sirius quickly. He knew almost with certainty just what hay bed she had in mind.
"Then you'll stick around 'til Mond'y," she said with finality. The young woman drew in her breath and bit her lips harder. Sirius thought she rolled her eyes a bit.
It was not hard for Sirius to sound grateful when he responded, "I'll try not to be any trouble to you. Just let me know what I can do to pay for my spot on the hay and, hopefully, some more meals like today's breakfast." The young woman exhaled loudly and looked beseechingly at the porch ceiling.
"I don't know your names." Sirius continued, smiling as charmingly as he knew how first at one lady and then the other. "Won't you tell me what to call you?"
"You can call me Granny McNiven. Granny M will do fer short. My granddaughter has five names..."
"Sapphire! My name is Sapphire!" she interrupted curtly.
"Are the other four as lovely as that one?" Sirius said giving her the tiniest wink.
"That's of no matter," Sapphire said, looking pointedly past him.
What happened between then and lunch was now an inconsequential muddle of little chores, but he still remembered that meal. Again, he ate on the porch, but now the women came out and handed him his food. Sapphire, who had been giving him rather terse orders about what needed doing, watched him out of the corners of her eyes as she came and went, but Granny McNiven sat down in a rocking chair to chat with him, her puffy feet propped up on an overturned basket that Sapphire had deposited in front of her with a tight lipped frown.
"Which of you wise and beautiful ladies made this excellent pie?" Sirius asked her, around mouthfuls of his second piece.
The crone fixed him with her imperturbable stare and asked,
"Which of us is th' wise and which is th' beautiful?"
Sirius barely hesitated before answering, "Whoever made this pie is exceedingly beautiful!"
Her wrinkled face split into an open mouthed guffaw. "And you may be wiser than ya look," she cackled. Sirius laughed too, but rather more nervously. He felt as though he had been given some sort of test, and hoped the mirth meant he had passed rather than otherwise.
That evening, as the sun sank, both women joined him on the porch. Sapphire brought out three candles in bottles along with the folding TV-trays they would eat on, and set one on each. As she leaned down to light his, Sirius saw a blue flame flash from inside her shirt neck, which, no doubt due to the sultry weather, she had not buttoned to the top. For a second, he thought of spell sparks, and drew back, but then relaxed and smiled at his mistake as he realized she must be wearing a blue gem pendant around her neck. Perhaps some sort of protective charm?
Alerted by his sudden movement, she noted his smile and followed his gaze to her open shirt neck. She scowled at him, as she straightened herself and tugged the shirt together. Let her think it; she's pretty enough to make a fellow want a peek. Meeting her eyes, he smiled more broadly -- and winked. She quickly turned her back.
When she delivered his plate, it dropped with such force onto the tray that it nearly turned candle and all into his lap. Sirius grinned again, and realized he was starting to feel safe with these strangers. Sapphire had seemed intimidating at first -- he judged her to be a few years his senior, and she'd been treating him like a wayward child -- but he suspected now that she could be lots of fun to tease. This bit of his adventure was definitely looking up.
After the supper dishes were removed, Sapphire settled her back against the frame of the cabin door. The door, she left open just a crack. Granny resumed the rocker. A couple of blankets for Sirius to use in the hay lay folded on the floor planks, and he pillowed his head on them as Granny began telling stories. "Our stories," she had called them, and they ranged from 14th century Scottish history to stories about what Sirius took to be a type of local Leprechaun. "Wee'uns" or "Yunwi Tsunsdi" she had called these magical folk who played pranks but sometimes rescued lost children.
She also told the story of how her own grandmother had been adopted by Presbyterian missionaries who kept her from being taken west with "the rest of her people." "She was said to be th' daughter of a Cherokee chief who was killed, along with her other family, while resistin' removal," Granny said. "So ya see, my family's been on th' losing side of almost ev'ry war we've been in fer 700 years."
"And on the winning side at the same time," Sapphire said, "which is why we still have this land to our name."
Granny laughed. "She listens well to the old stories! When I'm gone, she'll pass 'em on to th' next generation."
Sirius could make nothing of Sapphire's remark about both winning and losing at the time, though he would have occasion to think it prophetic just a few years later.
At the time, he had fixed on the information that they were descended from a chief -- really a type of king, he thought. "So you're a sort of princess, then," he had said, addressing the remark to both women at once.
Granny just grinned, but Sapphire snorted with contempt.
"Yeah, princesses! Welcome to the royal palace, with electricity and running water every other week and a makeshift servant when someone gets lost in the woods."
"You have electricity?" Sirius knew of it, of course, but had seldom been in a home that used it.
"Yes, we have electricity!" Sapphire, who was for some reason gesturing vaguely toward the ceiling, sounded annoyed. "We aren't cave people! They electrified this area around forty years ago. But when a bad storm knocks down the wires, or lightning strikes like yesterday, we don't get it back right away."
"Nor the phone," Granny added. At this Sapphire shot her a look with a caution in it, and Sirius had wondered why.
Granny continued, "It appears my granddaughter still has a bit t' learn. She's not so grateful fer what she has as she ought t'be. When I was a little girl we had no phone here, we always had t' haul wood fer th' stove, and water from th' pump, and burn candles t' see at night. If you wanted food kept cold, you had t' put it in a jar in the crick..."
"Oh, Granny, I don't think Sirius wants to hear about your walking twenty miles to school uphill both ways in daily blizzards," Sapphire interrupted her.
Sirius recalled wondering if there could be hills like the stairs at Hogwarts that sometimes changed direction so there was no downhill. Now he laughed at the memory, and then grew somber thinking how he had never had a grandmother, or anyone else for that matter, to tell him stories like Granny McNiven -- not unless you counted his father's dissertations on the superior blood lines of the Black family. Perhaps, he thought, it was the stories as much as anything that had first made him want to return to that cabin. And now, that decision was part of another story.
@3,862 words, Last Edit 7/14/07)