понедельник, 03 сентября 2007
Parrot by penknife
community.livejournal.com/crossover_hp/66932.ht...
I don't think so," Daniel says. "He was probably born in London."
"Some are," the boy says. He has wild black hair and very tan skin, and there's something in the cast of his face that makes Daniel think it's unlikely he was born in London.
Sparrow isn't a wizarding name," the blond boy says. "What were your parents?"
"What were yours, mate?"
"Wizards," the boy says witheringly. "I don't suppose yours are."
"Much more better," the boy says. "My da was a pirate king, you see, and he carried off the queen of the mermaids. Never minded a bit of fishiness." He waggles his fingers suggestively. They don't look webbed to Daniel.
"They only let humans in Hogwarts," the blond boy says, but he looks nervous.
Jack grins. "Are you sure?"
"Is that really a parrot's egg?"
"It might be," Jack says. "In the market for one?"
He shows his open palm to Daniel. The coin is gone.
"That's not real magic, is it?" Daniel asks.
"You don't know how I did it, do you?"
"Well, no ..."
"Then it is," Jack says, looking satisfied. There's a pause.
"Can I have my coin back now?" Daniel asks.
"Sorry, mate," Jack says. "It could be anywhere." He shrugs, not looking particularly apologetic.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be in Slytherin?"
"The hat never lies," Jack says. He smiles at her as if sharing a secret. "All right if you're a hat, I suppose."
"I'm not a hat," Eustasia says. She feels that somehow this conversation has gotten away from her. Her sister never said anything about strange boys accusing you of being hats.
Jack waves his hands. "I meant the general you. People." He attacks the chicken with a fairly disgusting degree of pleasure, and wipes his hands on his knees.
"Where are you from?"
"India," Jack says. "Or thereabouts. Really more near Jamaica. By way of Madrid. By way of Bristol."
"Those places aren't anywhere near each other," Eustasia says.
Jack points a chicken leg at her. "Seen them on a map, haven't you? Not but this far apart?" He gestures with parallel chicken legs.
"That's a map," Eustasia says. "In real life the world is ... is huge, and round. Gregorius the Grave proved that centuries ago."
"You been all the way around it, then?"
"I don't need to," Eustasia says. "I've read books."
"How do you know the books don't lie?"
"Books don't lie."
"Like hats."
"Books are not like hats," Eustasia says.
"What do you think of my hat?"
"I don't think it fits you properly."
Jack shrugs. "It probably fitted the lad who bought it better."
"You stole your hat?" Against her will, Eustasia is finding herself fascinated.
Sparrow is sitting with his back to the tower, a bottle in one hand and a pipe in the other, smoke curling up toward the sky. He is apparently telling them a story about cats.
"What is going on here?" Medusa asks, a good all-purpose sort of teacherly question. Daniel and Eustasia cling to each other in a way that makes it seem clear to her who the courting couple here are. She scowls down at Sparrow, who she's sure has encouraged this.
He shrugs. "They wanted to see the stars."
She is tempted to ask him whether he wasn't courting Eustasia himself, but there's something in his face that doesn't invite her to. If he's lost what he wanted, he's still gained some measure of influence here, as matchmaker or enabler or whatever it is that he is. That's a good Slytherin way of taking your losses.
"Why did you do it?" Jack has had a talent for mayhem since the start, but Daniel thinks even he should have known that stealing the Sword of Gryffindor and attempting to pawn it in Hogsmeade would not go well.
Jack shrugs. "To see if I could?" He grins. "Everybody gets caught once. The trick is to not get caught all the other times."
but there are a lot of things he's learned you don't say to Jack if you want to stay his friend. They include anything that reeks of sentiment, so Daniel doesn't say
Jack grins and tosses his hair, and now Daniel can see he's got the long tip of his wand tied into his hair like some exotic ornament. There are other things glittering in his hair, beads and coins and who knows what else. He looks odd and strange and somehow more himself than ever before.
He's still for a moment, and then goes into wild motion again, rummaging in the purse tied to his belt. "Here," he says, and presses something into Daniel's hand. "I don't know as I'll be able to look after it properly for a while."
Daniel looks down at what might be an egg resting in his hand. "Your parrot?"
The egg hasn't hatched yet, but Daniel can't bring himself to throw it away. He tells himself you never know.
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