章 45: Free-key
Daphne lounged in Harry's trunk, reading a muggle travel book, making notes, and bracing herself for an apparate-squeeze every sixty seconds. The first time she'd climbed into his trunk, been shrunk, popped into his pocket, and chain-apparated across Europe, it had been nauseating. She'd gotten used to it. This time, she could even read while Harry flew and apparated, five miles at a time, all the way across the Atlantic.
It had been seventeen hours, and flight-Harry should be landing soon.
Daphne stood and walked over to the cooler, runes alight with pulsating magic. She found a bottle of pumpkin juice amidst the pile of orange juices.
Daphne braced for the next apparate. It didn't come. The lack of squeeze was like a landing announcement. She waited. The door at the top of the stairs opened. Birdsong of every describable variety poured into the trunk, filling the cosy interior with promises of the exotic and exciting.
"We're there!" called Harry.
Daphne climbed the stairs, stepped out of the trunk, and was engulfed by a wall of heat and wet. The air pressed down on her body, and filled her lungs with soup. A mass of organic dark-green and brown rose in front of her. Behind her, a massive river pushed and roared with the unstoppability and ferocity of a dozen nesting dragons.
"This is Brazil?"
"Yep. On the edge of one of the forests. Wha'dja think?"
"It's… bigger." The trees were massive and interwove into each other forming a solid, living cliff.
"You've no idea just how right you are," Harry said, shrinking the trunk and popping it back into his pocket. He handed her an ageing potion and they both drank. The soon-to-be first-years morphed into twenty-year-olds. Their clothes morphed with them.
Pointing themselves downriver, they trekked along the riverbank for a half-hour, and eventually found themselves at the edge of a small muggle village.
A short conversation with a bemused group of villagers sent them to another village some two hours walk down the river. They climbed over huge tree roots, cut through dense undergrowth, and, occasionally, Harry flew her over boggy mud-banks, much to her secret delight.
Eventually, tired, soaked, and high on endorphins, they stood in front of a small, dilapidated, wood-built shop. Birds sung in cages hung around the entrance. Lizards and spiders sat in boxes made from the lithe, green growth of bushes and trees. She drank in the new sights and sounds like a Gringotts prisoner might drink in the sky.
Harry's eyes gleamed when he spotted a medium sized snake in a large see through box by the door. He crouched down, and a series of hisses were exchanged between them. Eventually he stood up. "Yep, this is what we're looking for."
"You know, that wasn't any less creepy than when I first saw you do it."
Harry just grinned, took her hand, and led her into the dark interior of the shop.
A short, tanned, middle-aged man sat on a low stool in a corner smoking something foul. She wrinkled her nose.
Harry dove straight in, chatting with the man in a tongue she didn't recognise. It may as well have been parseltongue for all she was able to understand it. Harry laughed a few times. The man looked at her.
"You have very beautiful wife."
She blushed.
Harry chuckled. "Yes. She is the snowdrop of England."
Kuh. An elegant flower that opens just as the snow and ice starts melting. She blushed harder. Damn ageing potions.
Eventually, the man stood, and left the shop by the back door.
She looked towards Harry, not quite meeting his eye. "Does he have what we're looking for?"
"Sounds like it."
They waited in silence. Harry wandered around looking into cages and boxes, occasionally chatting with a snake. It was weird the way they'd all perk up when he passed by.
The man walked back in, ferrying the cutest thing she'd ever seen on his shoulder. She cooed and clapped her hands, all thoughts of embarrassing flower metaphors forgotten.
Its fur was black, its tail long, and its small face was framed with two large tuffs of white where its ears would be. The small monkey-like animal gripped the man's shirt with tiny human-like hands, and pivoted its head with quick, sudden turns.
Her eyes shone staring at the endearing fluff-ball.
"The common marmoset," Harry said, by way of confirmation. "New world monkey species, generally grows to a maximum size of twenty to thirty centimetres in length. Very intelligent, very social. Weighs around 250 grams."
"He's adorable." Daphne made to touch the small creature, which backed off, seemingly uncertain, before leaping to her shoulder and trying to climb into the front of her shirt. "Gah!"
"She, actually. And a good thing too, or I'd have to have some serious words with it." Harry glared at the animal trying to burrow its way into her chest.
She giggled, and fed it a piece of fruit the man had offered her.
Harry handed him some muggle money. "Any idea what you're going to call her?"
She turned to regard the inquisitive animal now clutched to her shoulder, playing with her long, blonde hair. The small monkey was a gift from Harry. Not the first to be sure, but she was definitely the cutest.
The idea of having a marmoset for a pet, rather than the more traditional cat, meant something to her. A powerful statement that said, 'I'm not going to do things the traditional way. I'm free to explore and travel, and damn society's yardstick. Harry is my yardstick'.
She turned back to Harry. "How about Free-key?"
Harry's expression blanked for several seconds, before slowly spreading into a broad grin. "Perfect."
.....
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