A/N: Skip it if you don't care to read it. Anyway, I have had several complaints in reviews that the last two chapters were pure fluffiness and had no bearing on the story whatsoever and should have just been skipped. Two things First of all, maybe it was a bit fluffy. Hey, I'm new at this AND I happen to like fluffiness. Doesn't mean it will all be fluffy. If you hate it, then you don't need to read it, do you? Chalk it up to an author becoming annoying and let it go and read something more to your taste. There have been a few stories that fell into this catagory for me. I loved it until ... and then I hated it. It happens. It's not the authors' fault when it happens; it's my taste not theirs and so I can't complain much can I? Second of all, if you didn't see the point -- you just missed it. I recommend reading the chapters again -- especially the last one -- to figure out how this is molding his views on magic and the world. Although I love the "Harry just throws off the constraints of his upbringing and what he learns in the magical world" stories, I'd like to see a basis for the way he changes his mind or advances himself from observation. Anyway, as I said -- take a look again. If you don't see it, and you decided to keep reading this fic, you might see the results later.
Also, later in the chapter, I make reference to race -- it is realistic to the type of person and the language used. There is no effort to be offensive, but those who haven't experienced the culture might be offended by the use of certain words. The worst I will still censor myself on -- but you will know what I mean.
Hermione was in the passenger seat of the Land Cruiser, directing her father toward the location given on the map. Unfortunately, it was spelled so that mundanes couldn't read it so she had to give the directions.
Finally, they arrived at Hopewell Village, near Chillicothe. According to the pamphlets, it was names after the native who had centered many of their most magical sites in the area and was a convergence point of several ley lines.
Hermione and Harry had to talk to the "National Park Ranger" to allow them to enter. Apparently the enclave could not be seen by mundanes and the entrance to the Hopewell Culture National Park doubled as the entry point for those that were unfamiliar.
Hermione was bouncing in excitement at the opportunity to see an all-magic area, just like Hogsmeade was near Hogwarts. There was even a magical academy, although it apparently wasn't a boarding school, and it was empty for the summer.
Robert parked the car in the lot that was provided and Harry paid for the horse-drawn carriages that were the actual form of transportation used in the enclave. The parking lot was used by visitors and natives alike, although they were sure the natives didn't have to spend as much for the carriages.
As they were driven toward the Visitor Center in the middle of the village, they were all surprised at the mix of humans and non-humans that were apparent. Several goblins and house elves were in evidence, as well as wizards and witches who looked like average people. There were also several Native Americans. They also saw a shop called "Vlad's Blood Bank" which appeared closed and another named "The Howling Hamburger" which was apparently run by a werewolf. Hermione commented that if she had her way, magical districts in Britain would look much the same in the future.
After a trip to the Visitor Center, Hermione calcified all opinion of her by dragging Harry along to the bookstore.
As the group entered, they all noticed that the store was much bigger on the inside than the outside. Emma and Robert looked at the teens and Hermione let Harry explain about space expansion charms while she immediately started looking over the shelves.
The first thing that Hermione noticed was that, unlike Flourish and Blott's back home, books that were apparently quite dark seemed just as available as books that were quite light. Finally, Hermione couldn't stand it and went to get an explanation.
She approached the man behind the counter and asked, "Sir? Can I ask a question?" The man, dressed in Native American dress, asked her what she needed. "I can't help but notice that there are books of a type I'm not used to seeing in bookstores. Aren't Dark Arts books illegal?"
The man looked at her, and replied, "Where are you from?"
"England."
"That answers that. The laws of the United States are a bit different. The US Constitution explicitly states that there is freedom of speech. What it basically means is that it is legal to publish and sell anything. It can't be limited unless it is in danger of causing imminent harm. For example, ever hear of a book called 'Monster Book of Monsters'?"
"It was a textbook my school used several years ago."
"Well, in the US, a book like that can only be sold to an adult and only with a clear warning of what can be expected. Dark Arts books, because of the possible addictive nature of such magic, can only be sold to adults or with the consent of a guardian unless it's just theory. It's up to every person to use what is available responsibly and legally. For example, you can buy a book on rituals that use human sacrifice, but the practice has been outlawed in the US for over 200 years. So you can buy the book which explains how it is done, you just can't perform the magic."
"So, your government can't restrict what's sold?" was Hermione's response, although it came out more like a statement. After the shopkeeper nodded, she asked, "What about taking the books outside of the country?"
"Well, the laws are a little different. Export can be done unless it violates US Secrecy Laws or national security. Really, unless you in a restricted part of a Magical Military library, you won't find books that are limited by security."
Hermione took her newfound freedom to buy books and bought several books that were restricted in the UK, although not Dark Arts. Harry bought a book explained the Dark Arts much better than anything available in Hogwarts. Then he had a thought. He went to the clerk and explained what he was looking for. He had to give his name and list his history with Voldemort to explain why he needed to know the information. When he did, the clerk gave him a piece of paper with a name with who to contact. It happened to be the Magical Defense teacher from the school located in the magical enclave.
When the book shopping was done and the books shrunken down to matchbox size until they were back home, they had a wonderful time exploring the rest of the enclave. They saw a magical butcher shop and had to check it out. The shop was run by a goblin. When they asked about cooking over a campfire, they were sold a magical cooler which could be used on a camping trip. In addition, they bought several steaks of magical origin. Harry had never camped before and the Grangers had never seen magical steaks, and so they had decided to find a place where they could do have a barbeque while they were on vacation.
One thing that Harry noted was a display, just like a butcher's shop back home, of different meats. One of the meats was basilisk. There were two prices, one much higher than the other. When Harry asked about it, the goblin explained that the more expensive price was for aged meat. He also explained that the meat was not edible by humans, just goblins and dwarves.
"That's quite pricey though. How long after a basilisk is killed can the meat be obtained from the carcass?"
The goblin thought about it. "If it was a non-magical meat, such as bison or cattle, the meat would have to be processed immediately. Aging is done for a short time. In magical meat, spoilage is inversely proportionate to the magical content of the carcass, it's size, and how protected it is from the elements. Hippogryph, for example, can last in the open for about 6 months, and in a controlled environment about a year. Griffon, which is a larger creature, could last twice as long. Dragon, much more magical, can last five times that length. Basilisk would be similar -- a bit less if they are younger and smaller. Similar to Wyvern meat for draconic animals. Much smaller and less magical than a full dragon and lasts a shorter time as a consequence. The only thing that would outlast the normal dragon or basilisk would be sphinx meat of certain types."
"Oh, well thank you."
"Was there a particular reason you asked?"
"I killed a basilisk a while ago, and it's never been processed. I'm wondering if I should do something about it."
"Well, unless it was larger than 20 feet, it would have to processed within 4 years."
"How about 40 feet?"
"As I have never heard of one longer than 30, all I can say is that it would last possibly another 3 years beyond." Harry calculated that the one he killed at 12 years old could be harvested possibly as long as 10 years later, which meant he didn't have to worry about it now. "Should the meat not be spoilt, you would do well to offer it in sale to a goblin -- we find it quite tasty."
"Thank you. I was just curious."
They left the shop and continued on their way. Harry had called the person recommended at the shop and an appointment was set for the next day. The group spent a good portion of the rest of the day exploring the mundane park as well.
The Grangers plus one found themselves being welcomed by an older man dressed in Native American leathers and beads. He introduced himself as Qaletaga Eaglefoot. When Hermione asked, he explained his name meant "Guardian of the People". He also explained he could be called Joshua if his Native name was too hard to pronounce.
As the man toured them around the school, Hermione asked many questions about the differences between what was taught in the school and what she learned at Hogwarts. She was interested to see a computer lab station set up in one part of the school. Finally, the man took them to his classroom. Unlike Hogwarts, the school seemed much more like the schools she had attended as a child.
After everyone was comfortable, Harry began.
"Mr. Eaglefoot, we were referred to you as someone who could help me with information to explain some things." The man nodded for him to continue. Harry then spent the next hour explaining his peculiar history and what had happened during the cleansing ritual. As Harry mentioned the minor possession explanation, the man grew more and more intense -- or that was how Harry saw it anyway. In truth, Joshua Storm Eaglefoot, Qaletaga to his brothers and to his people, was extremely alarmed.
When Harry finished, the teacher replied in firm tones, "What you describe is very evil magic. I only know of it as I have studied far and wide to help to educate my people and other magicals in how to protect themselves and defeat those that would muaYa - make bad medicine, Dark Magic to those that do not speak my language. This magic of the wanaYisapa , the black spirit, is of the most evil and darkest type." Harry and the others could see how much the idea of what he was speaking about upset him.
"In Ancient Egypt, those that ruled were much concerned with death and eternal life. One such ruler ordered his court magician to create a magic that would allow him to live eternally. The court magician decided that he would work to ensure that the spirit lived within the circles of the world. He and others spent many years developing a ritual to anchor the wanaYi the spirit. It was found that by splitting the spirit and anchoring the split portions to an object that the spirit would not move on to the realms of the dead but would stay within the realm of the living.
"It was found that the spirit rebelled against killing, and that in killing a tear in the spirit would occur. The ritual that the court magician created would force the tear to become permanent and to anchor the torn off piece to something."
"What the magician did not discover until too late was that by tearing the spirit, all human compassion was destroyed and the one with the torn soul would become insane."
Harry thought about it. It made sense. No one would ever accuse Voldemort of simple compassion and Harry could attest to the insanity that he exuded. "I would have to agree with you. Tom Riddle was obsessed with immortality and would not hesitate to sacrifice his humanity to stay alive."
The older man thought for a brief time. "Do you know of any anchors?"
Harry explained about both the diary that he destroyed in second year as well as the anchor that was removed from his forehead.
"What you describe would lead me to believe that he created more anchors than just these two. The question is how many."
Hermione thought about it for a moment. "Well, there is much importance placed in prime numbers in the teaching of our culture. Especially the numbers three, seven and thirteen."
Joshua Eaglefoot shook his head, "It would not be thirteen. The wanaYi would not survive that many tearings. According to what you have said and the description that you gave, if I had to guess I would say seven. Three was done in Ancient Egypt -- more common was four which was considered a magical number. If he has 'gone farther on the path to immortality than any before me' it would suggest seven. I do not think a wanaYi would survive more than that. And if it did, the power of a magical one would be destroyed."
Harry looked at Hermione and then back at the teacher. "It would make sense with his personality. He is obsessed with power and with death. He would not take a chance of losing his power or with dying. He is insane -- not stupid."
Eaglefoot disagreed. "Doing this ritual would be thought of as stupid by those that created it. The ruler who commissioned the ritual did not prepare for death the way the other rulers before and after him had. When he died and his spirit anchors were destroyed, he ended up lost to time as he never created a tomb. His burial site was a random grave of the same type as the poorest of the poor. And he was considered the most evil of all rulers. The people forgot about him and considered him a flawed ruler, not worthy of divine status."
Finally Harry asked, "So, how do I find these anchors to destroy them? And how can they be destroyed?"
The man thought for a long moment. "The destroying of an anchor requires more magic than was used to create the anchor. The diary you spoke of was destroyed by a very magically poisonous venom. There is a magical fire spell. Blood magic, similar to what was done by the goblins of your land. Tears of a phoenix mixed with the ash of its burning. A soul devourer."
Hermione had a thought. "A soul devourer. Do you mean a dementor? And are there any books on destroying the anchors?"
"That is what they are called in lands across the sea. And yes, give me a moment and I will find the title. You might locate it in a bookstore, but it is unlikely to be in a bookstore in a small enclave such as the one this school is located in. You would need to go to a bookstore in a large city, such as Los Angeles or Washington D.C."
"How about New York?"
"You should be able to find it there."
The teenagers thanked the man for his help, and the adults added their thanks on behalf of themselves and the teenagers.
The group continued on their vacation, having learned what they could at the enclave.
The next stop was a surprise that Emma had for her husband and daughter. She took over the driving as the group made its way north into Michigan and west after a night in the city of Toledo. Emma consulted a map, refusing to allow her husband to know what she had planned. By the next morning, all she would say was, "We're close."
Everyone enjoyed the trip -- even if most didn't know where they were going. The wide open country they drove through was very relaxing. Finally Emma stopped at a gas station and used the payphone to make a call. When she came back, she cheerfully ordered everyone back into the SUV and drove along a country road until she turned into a long driveway toward a country house.
The sign on the property was "Farmer Orchard, Battle Creek". When Robert saw it, he laughed. "I should have thought of this!" When Hermione asked him what he meant, his reply was "What does the name 'Granger' mean?"
Hermione answered, "Farmer". She started to brighten in comprehension.
"We're going to visit my distant cousin Frank and his family."
Emma laughed as she admitted it was true. The group could now see the family that was on the porch, waiting for the visitors to arrive. There appeared to be a middle-aged couple, a woman in her twenties and an adolescent girl.
The group got out, and Robert called, "Hello, Cousin Frankie! It's been a long time!"
The man, who looked similar to Robert replied, "Hello Cousin Bobby!" even as he reached the car and embraced his cousin.
The Introductions began a pleasant visit to Hermione's more distant relatives. Harry learned that Frank's grandfather had moved to the US just after the first world war, and that Robert and Frank hadn't seen each other in 25 years, although they had spoken or written many times since. It was a relaxing stop for everyone.
Monday morning found Harry looking at a very different statue than any he had seen before.
The family had spent the weekend with Robert's cousin and had then traveled to Detroit to cross over to the Dominion of Canada. Near the entrance to the tunnel below the river, Harry had spied something that caused him to ask Robert to allow a stop.
In the heart of Downtown Detroit, there was a statue of a fist that hung in the center of the the major road that went through the city where it met with the road that was next to the river.
The group stopped and walked up to the area of the statue. They looked around and didn't see a plaque explaining the work. Finally, Robert crossed back over to the east side of the street to ask a passing older gentleman about it. After a moment, Robert called out and motioned the rest to join him.
The man, an older man with dark skin and salt and pepper hair was talking to Robert as the group approached. When Harry got there, Robert pointed to the man and said, "This is Michael Brown. Mr. Brown, you were saying you could tell us about the statue ...."
The man, who looked quite proud, said, "That is the fist of Joe Louis."
Hermione, who was always interested in learning everything she could, asked "Who was that?" The man looked shocked that she didn't know who Joe Louis was.
Robert, who had heard of him, said, "Mr. Brown, can we buy you an early lunch and you can tell us?"
Michael Brown appeared to think about it and then said, "Alright." He led them across the street and down a little to what looked like an old diner with the name, "American Coney Island." He explained, "Best place in the city for a coney dog. Place has been open since 1921, ain't never closed."
After everyone had gotten a meal with suggestions as to what to get from Michael, he led them to a table. "You asked about Joe Louis. Any of you heard of him?"
Robert said, "He was a boxer if I remember correctly."
Michael laughed. "You're from England, right?" Everyone nodded. "Saying Joe Louis was a boxer is like saying Winston Churchill was a politician." As they ate the surprisingly good coney dogs, the older man continued. "Back in the 1930s, I was just a kid. You don't know what it was like, but black people didn't get a fair chance. In different places, a black man couldn't eat in the same places as white folk. Especially the south. Even in places where there was a lot of black people and it was easier to get a job, we were treated as second class. Segregation was everywhere.
"Joe Louis made a big difference. He came to Detroit as a teenager and started to learn boxing. He became known as a clean-living black man. He lost one fight to Max Schmeling, which was a German white man. Two years later, there was a rematch. Adolf Hitler was already beginning to make trouble in Europe. Joe had once beat Mussolini's man and was a big name to America. Hitler used the fight as propaganda for the superiorness of the 'Aryan Race'.
"Max Schmelting lost. It was a big thing for folk both black AND white. He was still treated like a n****r in a lot of places. But people needed a hero, and he was a hero. He helped break down the segregation in sports. The old Jim Crow laws were changed or gotten rid of because of him. It took a long time, even after the fight. But he lived to see a lot of the changes.
"Eventually, he was known by everyone as a hero. White reporter made a comment about someone saying he was a credit to his race. The reporter said 'Yeah, he's a credit to his race -- the human race'.
"Lotta people didn't like the Fist when it was put up. But after a while, people started changing their minds. It stood for the power of one man to change things, just by being who he was. Lotta thngs named after him. But now the Fist is a part of the city. Shows what Detroit is like. We fight. We're tough. Don't matter how hard it is. We do what we have to. Not just black folk -- everyone."
After thanking the man, the group decided to spend more time in the city, looking at different historical markers and places. Later in the evening, Harry asked to stop one more time at the Fist before they crossed over to Canada.
He stood there in front of the statue looking up at it with an intense expression on his face. Hermione, seeing his expression, asked him what he was thinking.
"I was thinking about what Mr. Brown said," Harry began, his tone showing he was distracted by his thoughts. "I'm not a boxer like Joe Louis, but I'm in a war. It's like what is happening at home. The purebloods don't like the muggleborns and halfbloods. A lot like the segregation he was talking about. But one man made a difference and changed things. Now people don't think about his color, just about his standing strong. Gives me hope for the wizarding world actually." He turned toward Hermione and her parents.
"I just hope that when I'm gone ..." and he paused, trying to think of the words, "I hope when I'm gone that people will remember me like people remember him. I don't want statues or anything like that, or things named after me. But I want people to stop worrying about what makes us different, and remember that I didn't fight because I'm a halfblood or because I want to protect the muggleborns. I want to be remembered as someone who fought against evil for everyone."
He would never know, but after he died, his wish would be granted. Many people, witches and wizards and goblins and elves, would come to the statue of his hand holding his wand that was placed just inside the entrance to Diagon Alley, and remember that Harry Potter fought so that everyone could live free and safe.