any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me.
In Grant Park this afternoon, there is a horrible, six-legged beast with bright blue fur, the talons of a hawk, and the face of a wolf. Said monster has spent most of the morning and afternoon terrorizing anyone who ventures into this part of the park, chasing them down and trying to munch them up like chew toys
( Read more... )
"I think you're right," Sirius says with a small nod. "This place is altogether unbelievable. I suppose ducks aren't the most unimaginable thing."
Although they're certainly irritating.
That answer gets a bit of an eyebrow raise out of Sirius. "What exactly do you call heavy reading?" he teases gently.
It's not an unfamiliar sight, really. Remus and Lily were both big readers during their Hogwarts days, fond of asking if Sirius had ever actually opened a book.
Sirius shrugs, again dislodging one of the ducks from his foot. "I've tried a few banishing spells and the like," he says. "The most I managed was to get them to change colors, for a bit." He pulls his wand out of his robe and demonstrates, and suddenly there is a rainbow of ducks for a moment before Sirius reverses it. He shakes his head. "But if there's a proper spell to get rid of these things, I haven't learned it. I'm certainly open to suggestions."
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"It is somewhat of an adjustment," Hermione admits, and it frustrates her when she doesn't excel, even when the matter she is trying to excel in is adjusting to a place like Chicago. "Even the magic is entirely different."
She always carries her wand with her just in case, but the differences are evident.
Hermione laughs a bit, lifting up her gaze proudly. "Harry has asked me just the same thing," she answers, not at all surprised they share that sort of sentiment. It is a good question, however. What is heavy reading to Hermione Granger?
She sets the thick tome aside. Even the smell of books are lovely to her.
Frowning intently, as she often does when she is concentrating, Hermione tries some of the more unknown spells and charms. Spells that should and would work under any other circumstance. She's gifted at charms, for Christ's sake! Hermione is only half-disheartened when they don't work. And inwardly further frustrated. She only stops when one of the ducks spins around and its beak grows twice its size. The duck starts to sing. "Oh! ... Well, then."
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"It is," Sirius agrees. "New world, new country - I don't think anyone expects us to adjust so soon," he says reassuringly. "And as for the magic, well - I'm told you're quite clever. I'm sure you'll figure out a way around the differences over time."
Sirius, for his part, is adjusting a little more easily, but he knows that's because he left so much less behind. He can't imagine how frustrating it must be for people like Hermione and Harry, who left so much unfinished.
"Did he?" Sirius asks with a laugh of his own. "His dad and I never had quite the patience for books. Preferred to get through everything with a bit more hands-on experience."
Which is why its a minor miracle neither of them ever lost their limbs, really. And to answer that question, heavy reading to Hermione Granger would have to be the ENTIRE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY, PROBABLY.
Sirius sits back in his chair and watches as Hermione looks, trying to hold back a laugh when she has just as little success as he did earlier and the ducks start singing. It's not just ordinary singing, though. It is a pop song that Sirius fails to recognize because it hasn't been released yet in his world. "Well," he says, unable to hold back a grin. "You deserve plenty of points for effort there at least, I'd say."
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"I have been doing research about the city and its Rift workings in hopes of grasping a better understanding," she admits. "There are certain parallels when one thinks about them long enough, in an extraneous sort of way. Wanderers are treated a bit like Muggles, aren't they?"
Learning about the CLF was enraging for Hermione, and at least it might give her a purpose to which she is well-suited for.
"Hands-on experience. You both must have been as trouble making as Harry and Ron," Hermione says with something of a smirk, thinking it's completely surreal to be sitting here speaking with Sirius, and a much, much younger one at that. Harry's happiness at finding him (and Hedwig being returned!) and Hermione herself seeing him and Professor Lupin alive and well--
It helps with accepting one's place in this world. There are saving graces to it, and Harry's happiness is so very important to her. But she smiles in earnest. It's Harry's godfather. Mentioning Harry's father. "You must be so happy to be with him once again," she mentions, a quiet satisfaction there that is hard to escape.
It's alright, Sirius. Hermione is utterly bewildered when it comes to the pop song. The narration dares say it's probably Lady Gaga, as the duck did seem to be quite stylish. Hermione bites back a scowl and stares at the duck. I want your loving and I want your revenge... do dee do...
"That doesn't even make sense!"
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"That's not a bad idea," Sirius says, and then he grimaces at the comparison of Wanderers and Muggles. "It seems they are, yes. It seems no matter where you live, some group of people have to be absolute nutters."
Sirius is still angry about it himself, as he thinks anyone with a bit of sense would be. There's simply no reason for any of it.
"There's every chance we were worse," Sirius says, grinning widely. He can't imagine there are any professors at Hogwarts who wouldn't have remembered him and James well after their time - even if what happened with Voldemort hadn't made them all a bit, well, infamous.
He shakes the thoughts away, and nods at Hermione's observation. It's been a long, long time since Sirius has been anything close to happy - since before he left Hogwarts, since the war started in full. He never thought he'd get anywhere near to it again, but what he's been offered with Chicago is - something else. "I never thought I'd get to know him at all," he says, with a smaller, softer smile. "It's been a wonderful opportunity."
It is, indeed, Lady Gaga, because the narration is dying thinking about it. Sirius can't decide whether he is more amused by the singing ducks or the way Hermione seems personally affronted at the lyrics. Still snickering, he reaches down with his wand and taps one of the ducks gently on its bill. Instead of stopping with the song, it proceeds to lead its fellow ducklings in a small dance routine.
Sirius won't be coming up for air for a while.
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It's infuriating, to be treated like filth for one reason or another, none of them ever justifiable. She's very passionate in a political sort of way when she has her heart set on something (see S.P.E.W., if you will) so it's likely only a matter of time before she throws herself entirely into this venture.
Harry will probably have a word or two about it.
Hermione laughs at that grin and an expression that is, naturally, nothing but troublemaking. "Oh, we heard some stories," Hermione assures. Not as many as Harry would've liked, but there was an inkling. "Harry and Ron did end up with the Mauraders Map, after all."
"It's been a wonderful opportunity for him as well, I'm sure," Hermione murmurs, her chin still propped on her hand, but there's a softer smile, too. Nothing is ever quite so important as Harry's happiness sometimes. When she thinks of what she'd like more than anything, it's them unscathed and happy and well after so much trials. Seeing him here in Chicago, without Voldemort looming over their heads constantly--it's been something else.
The narration is dying, too. It is beautiful. Hermione frowns intently at this, bristling as they burst into song and dance routine. "Oh, honestly, what an entirely laughable condition," she says, and once one of the waddles over her way and starts singing at her feet, she can't help but break into a smile of her own. 'Cause I'm bluffing with my muffin. I'm not lying! I'm just stunning.
"They are a bit charming. I suppose."
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More than what they did against Voldemort, it was what the Order was so good for: giving people faith that they were all in it together.
Of course, even with Dumbledore at the head of it, things fell apart - Sirius is, he knows, only one example of the betrayals that happened.
Sirius's grin only widens at the mention of the map. "He'd mentioned something about that," Sirius says, rubbing at his chin. "James never did say what he'd done with the map once we left school. I'm glad it was put to good use, though."
"Well, I'd hope so," Sirius says. He glances down at his hands briefly. "I know I'm not the ideal guardian figure, and I'm sure the timeline difference is at least as strange for him as it is for me - but I'm very grateful." Sirius completely agrees. He hasn't known Harry long at all, but from what he's gotten to know of him, he's glad to have him as a godson, and he intends to fulfill his role as godfather to his utmost ability.
Sirius is still laughing. He can't even comment on the first thing Hermione says because there are tears in his eyes. It's only when the ducks finish their little routine that he manages to say, "Well, if they're going to follow me around for a bit, I suppose it's only decent of them to be entertaining."
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