GG&HTOTW...E,SI, Part 4
Aug. 6th, 2004 02:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
timerippleIf you have not read the first three parts of this, I strongly suggest you do so. They're floating around here somewhere.
This is not the part I was so gleeful about earlier, btw. Also please note that the mice are now chipmunks for plot purposes.
Disclaimer, such as it is: all characters belonging to JKR belong to JKR. Alas, I own no Tribbles, although they're not really characters anyway, so it probably doesn't matter. The rest are mine, although I share Phips, Lady Peabody, and Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esq., Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman with Melanie and Allie.
“Off we go, then!” said Mr. Wiggle with a certain amount of what might be termed glee, although that was difficult to say too. Goat-Girl and Harry were too busy staring at the receding mountains to care much. They were so entranced by the view before them, with the wind in their hair and Lady Peabody seated sedately beside them, that they completely missed the large shadow rounding one particular peak. This oversight gained a place on the growing list of insignificant events since just then the basket gave a sudden twirl, and they found themselves facing a wide, flat stretch of land. Beyond that glittered a line of sea, and the monstrous shadow was, as far as they were concerned, as good as nonexistent.
PART IV. In which Harry’s wand makes a reappearance, the hamper reveals an unexpected skill, and our heroes receive a lecture on the proper maintenance of goats.
The balloon and its five occupants (not counting the hamper) drifted in a brisk yet oddly leisurely fashion across India. Several hours after departing from the Himalayas, Goat-Girl and Harry spotted four figures on the plain below. They were indistinct, but one appeared to be playing host to a colony of Tribbles who had just had a run-in with a crimper and a hair dryer. The tallest figure appeared to be arguing with the Tribbles-end of the first figure, while the other two raced in circles and – could it be? – yipped.
Mr. Wiggle appeared beside them and peered over the edge of the basket. “Aha. Am I correct in assuming that these are your erstwhile collar-seeking friends?”
There was a strangled “Yup” from Harry, who was staring off in an entirely different direction. “And there’s my wand!”
He was not wrong. The wand whizzed by the basket, made an about-face, and zoomed back in a series of cartwheels to land in Harry’s outstretched palm.
Goat-Girl grinned widely. “Excellent! I don’t suppose you’ve got another of those fabulous Yo-yo’s?” she added, turning to Phips. He merely nodded, and produced another from the hamper. This one was neon green. Goat-Girl dictated to Mr. Wiggle, whose pen and tape were at the ready.
Curse gone. Off to Crete. Join us there quick as you can. Give our love to the muppets. – Goat-Girl & Harry
Mr. Wiggle took careful aim and dropped the Yo-yo off the side. Harry, by way of getting re-acquainted with his wand, accidentally directed the message straight into the path of the terriers. Fortunately Ron rescued the green sphere and handed it to Hermione. Both humans stared up at the sky, and there was considerable waving among both parties until the balloon was borne away out of sight (propelled at an extraordinary speed by a device on the side which Mr. Wiggle claimed to have designed but refused to explain).
Some time later said balloon and its occupants parted company in an unexpected (but not entirely regretful) manner as the five of them (plus the hamper) were pitched into the Mediterranean from an altitude of approximately ten feet. Luckily they all landed in about five feet of water. (Except the hamper. It caught a vagrant wave, windsurfed for a while, and washed up neatly on the shore of Crete.)
“Well! I feel rather nicely refreshed, don’t you?” stated Mr. Wiggle cheerfully when they had all assembled.
Harry, attempting to clean his glasses, was disinclined to comment. Phips retrieved the hamper (white cloth intact, despite its brief stint as a sail) in silence. Goat-Girl stared at her sodden hair, muttering “salt water!” under her breath and exchanging a look with Lady Peabody (the condition of whose coat elicited a sympathetic yowl).
Shortly, however, they had all dried off a bit and were feeling better about their situation. They were, after all, at their desired destination, on time, and with all their luggage (such as it was), which was more than could be said for the services of more than one international transportation company. A short soak in salt water had apparently done no harm to Harry’s wand, as it fizzed and sparked enthusiastically when they attempted to light a fire. Indeed, the effect was similar to that of a room full of nine-year-olds having just ingested large amounts of sugar.
This had the added benefit of attracting some intelligent company in the form of the squadron of flying chipmunks they had seen earlier. The chipmunks had landed their gliders on the rocks, Rubik’s Cube of Doom in tow, and half of them were now doing a victory dance around the fire. The other half were busy assembling what looked like a miniature catapult. (This was in fact precisely what it was. As they explained to the travelers, the chipmunks had captured the Rubik’s Cube of Doom and were intending to use it as their Ultimate Weapon in the Final Last-Ever Big Epic Battle against the squirrels, who were due any minute now, and could they please move three inches to the left?)
They obligingly moved three inches to the left. The chipmunks resumed calculating flight trajectories and muttering about angular momentum.
At that moment, an old man strolled toward them. He was very old, clothed in what once might have been a tent, and he had dirty toenails. He was also muttering to himself. Sighting the travelers brought a light to his old eyes, and he raised his head to address them.
“Goats. Fascinating creatures, they are, goats. Never underestimate a goat!”
There was a general shrug and exchange of “What’s this old codger on about?”-type looks. The chipmunks stopped dancing to listen. What followed was not so much a scintillating conversation as a one-sided lecture on goat-keeping and the finer points of goat psychology. Having said his piece, the old man moved on down the beach and disappeared, whistling.
Harry shrugged. “That was weird.”
“I already know plenty about goat psychology, anyway.” This was from Goat-Girl.
“I concur. Nonetheless, the knowledge may come in useful some day.” The Gentleman had taken the occasional note, and was now perusing them with a sharp and shrewd eye. “I am curious, however, as to why he chose to enlighten us.”
Goat-Girl shrugged too. “Maybe he liked my jacket.”
There were more general shrugs all round. The chipmunks resumed their dance.
This is not the part I was so gleeful about earlier, btw. Also please note that the mice are now chipmunks for plot purposes.
Disclaimer, such as it is: all characters belonging to JKR belong to JKR. Alas, I own no Tribbles, although they're not really characters anyway, so it probably doesn't matter. The rest are mine, although I share Phips, Lady Peabody, and Mr. Salmon P. Wiggle, Esq., Count of the Starry Down: Gentleman with Melanie and Allie.
“Off we go, then!” said Mr. Wiggle with a certain amount of what might be termed glee, although that was difficult to say too. Goat-Girl and Harry were too busy staring at the receding mountains to care much. They were so entranced by the view before them, with the wind in their hair and Lady Peabody seated sedately beside them, that they completely missed the large shadow rounding one particular peak. This oversight gained a place on the growing list of insignificant events since just then the basket gave a sudden twirl, and they found themselves facing a wide, flat stretch of land. Beyond that glittered a line of sea, and the monstrous shadow was, as far as they were concerned, as good as nonexistent.
PART IV. In which Harry’s wand makes a reappearance, the hamper reveals an unexpected skill, and our heroes receive a lecture on the proper maintenance of goats.
The balloon and its five occupants (not counting the hamper) drifted in a brisk yet oddly leisurely fashion across India. Several hours after departing from the Himalayas, Goat-Girl and Harry spotted four figures on the plain below. They were indistinct, but one appeared to be playing host to a colony of Tribbles who had just had a run-in with a crimper and a hair dryer. The tallest figure appeared to be arguing with the Tribbles-end of the first figure, while the other two raced in circles and – could it be? – yipped.
Mr. Wiggle appeared beside them and peered over the edge of the basket. “Aha. Am I correct in assuming that these are your erstwhile collar-seeking friends?”
There was a strangled “Yup” from Harry, who was staring off in an entirely different direction. “And there’s my wand!”
He was not wrong. The wand whizzed by the basket, made an about-face, and zoomed back in a series of cartwheels to land in Harry’s outstretched palm.
Goat-Girl grinned widely. “Excellent! I don’t suppose you’ve got another of those fabulous Yo-yo’s?” she added, turning to Phips. He merely nodded, and produced another from the hamper. This one was neon green. Goat-Girl dictated to Mr. Wiggle, whose pen and tape were at the ready.
Curse gone. Off to Crete. Join us there quick as you can. Give our love to the muppets. – Goat-Girl & Harry
Mr. Wiggle took careful aim and dropped the Yo-yo off the side. Harry, by way of getting re-acquainted with his wand, accidentally directed the message straight into the path of the terriers. Fortunately Ron rescued the green sphere and handed it to Hermione. Both humans stared up at the sky, and there was considerable waving among both parties until the balloon was borne away out of sight (propelled at an extraordinary speed by a device on the side which Mr. Wiggle claimed to have designed but refused to explain).
Some time later said balloon and its occupants parted company in an unexpected (but not entirely regretful) manner as the five of them (plus the hamper) were pitched into the Mediterranean from an altitude of approximately ten feet. Luckily they all landed in about five feet of water. (Except the hamper. It caught a vagrant wave, windsurfed for a while, and washed up neatly on the shore of Crete.)
“Well! I feel rather nicely refreshed, don’t you?” stated Mr. Wiggle cheerfully when they had all assembled.
Harry, attempting to clean his glasses, was disinclined to comment. Phips retrieved the hamper (white cloth intact, despite its brief stint as a sail) in silence. Goat-Girl stared at her sodden hair, muttering “salt water!” under her breath and exchanging a look with Lady Peabody (the condition of whose coat elicited a sympathetic yowl).
Shortly, however, they had all dried off a bit and were feeling better about their situation. They were, after all, at their desired destination, on time, and with all their luggage (such as it was), which was more than could be said for the services of more than one international transportation company. A short soak in salt water had apparently done no harm to Harry’s wand, as it fizzed and sparked enthusiastically when they attempted to light a fire. Indeed, the effect was similar to that of a room full of nine-year-olds having just ingested large amounts of sugar.
This had the added benefit of attracting some intelligent company in the form of the squadron of flying chipmunks they had seen earlier. The chipmunks had landed their gliders on the rocks, Rubik’s Cube of Doom in tow, and half of them were now doing a victory dance around the fire. The other half were busy assembling what looked like a miniature catapult. (This was in fact precisely what it was. As they explained to the travelers, the chipmunks had captured the Rubik’s Cube of Doom and were intending to use it as their Ultimate Weapon in the Final Last-Ever Big Epic Battle against the squirrels, who were due any minute now, and could they please move three inches to the left?)
They obligingly moved three inches to the left. The chipmunks resumed calculating flight trajectories and muttering about angular momentum.
At that moment, an old man strolled toward them. He was very old, clothed in what once might have been a tent, and he had dirty toenails. He was also muttering to himself. Sighting the travelers brought a light to his old eyes, and he raised his head to address them.
“Goats. Fascinating creatures, they are, goats. Never underestimate a goat!”
There was a general shrug and exchange of “What’s this old codger on about?”-type looks. The chipmunks stopped dancing to listen. What followed was not so much a scintillating conversation as a one-sided lecture on goat-keeping and the finer points of goat psychology. Having said his piece, the old man moved on down the beach and disappeared, whistling.
Harry shrugged. “That was weird.”
“I already know plenty about goat psychology, anyway.” This was from Goat-Girl.
“I concur. Nonetheless, the knowledge may come in useful some day.” The Gentleman had taken the occasional note, and was now perusing them with a sharp and shrewd eye. “I am curious, however, as to why he chose to enlighten us.”
Goat-Girl shrugged too. “Maybe he liked my jacket.”
There were more general shrugs all round. The chipmunks resumed their dance.
