Chapter 8 I'm a Lumberjack and That's OK

Disclaimer: Get competent instruction on the use of the Axe before use . . . or get an enchanted one that has safety charms installed by a competent enchanter.

Harry got off the train and walked to the nearest bar to enjoy his first taste of Canada.

"Beer"

The bartender jumped as the strange man in the corner made himself known. "Sorry I didn't notice you before, I'll get your beer right away."

"No problem," Harry nodded. "I'm good at going unnoticed."

"Here you are sir," the bartender set a bottle in front of Harry. "No charge for the first one, and sorry again for not noticing you."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said with a smile. Harry dropped a large tip on the bar and nursed his beer for several minutes until a scruffy looking man burst into the room.

"No one move," the thug waved his pistol around. "Give me everything in the cash register."

"Alright son," the bartender said, trying to keep everyone calm. "No one has to get hurt."

"Don't talk back to me," the thug screamed, shattering the bar mirror with a badly placed shot. "I'm the one with the gun, and that means that I'm the one with the power . . ." The man's tirade cut off abruptly as an empty beer bottle hit him in the side of the head.

"All I wanted was some peace and quiet," Harry lamented as he lowered his arm. "But noooo, something always has to happen. Why can't I have just one week without something like this happening? Just one bloody week."

Harry calmly approached the dazed punk who had regained enough of his senses to start yelling threats, "I'm gonna gut you. You're dead, you hear me dead."

"Yes," Harry agreed, kicking the man in the head. "I am."

Taking one last look around the bar, Harry sighed. Experience had taught him that when things like this happened it was time to move on.

"Wait," the bartender called. "Who are you stranger?"

Harry paused and muttered something right before he stepped out the bar's bat wing doors and disappeared into the night.

"What did he say?" The bartender asked his paling customers. "For god's sake, tell me what he said."

"Mr. Black," one of the customers managed to calm enough to speak. "He said that his name was Mr. Black."

"My god," the bartender's eyes widened in shock. "My god."

Harry was still grumbling as he walked out of the bar and up the town's one street, ". . . and then I'll find whoever thought it was funny to make me Fate's bitch and show them what it feels like." Harry pulled out his 'broomstick' and pointed the tip north, he still had a lot of ground to cover before he got to his cabin.

Elsewhere, the preservation charms on a jar of mayonnaise failed. But that doesn't have any bearing on this story . . . at least, not yet.

IIIIIIIIII

Back on Black Island, the Professor and Henchgirl were trying to figure out a way to modify the wards to keep Australians away. Bastards were always bringing their boats right up to the edge, said it was a good place to party.

"Professor," Henchgirl called out. "Take a look at these readings."

"Hmmm," the Professor squinted at the printout. "It appears that something came in when we dropped the wards the other day . . . shall we investigate?"

"It's the responsible thing to do," Henchgirl mused. "Let's go."

"The Professor and Henchgirl skipped happily down the hall until they reached the new sewage overflow tank. "Activate the drainage and automatic cleaning functions," the Professor commanded.

"Rodger," Henchgirl gave a sloppy salute. The two insane scientists waited until the charms had done their jobs before opening the tanks to find a severely traumatized team of assassins.

"Oh my," the Professor looked down in disgust. "Would any of you chaps care to get out of there? Or do you wish to continue your . . . recreational activities?"

"We'll tell you anything, we'll do anything." one of the Assassins sobbed. "Just get us out of here."

"Right," the Professor nodded. "Drop your wands and any magical items and tell me when you are done."

A small pile of deadly devices formed in the corner as the assassins divested themselves of the tools of their trade. "Well?"

"Is that all?" Henchgirl demanded. In response, several of the assassins grinned sheepishly and added another layer to the pile.

"One moment," The Professor replied as he pulled a long string of twine out of his pocket. "Take hold of this," he commanded as he tossed the twine into the pit. "It will activate after you have all taken hold."

The men took hold of the twine and disappeared. "Well," the Professor began. "I guess you were right about not dropping the wards."

"Of course," Henchgirl said smugly. "I'm always right."

"How dare you assert such a thing," the Professor screamed in rage. "Take that back Wench."

"Make me you dirty little Gnome," Henchgirl retorted.

IIIIIIIIII

"We're glad you could make it Remus, Tonks." Hermione said politely. "We thought it would be best to have you guys backing us up when we met the Count."

"We are happy to lend our aid," Remus said with a smile. "Especially in matters this delicate."

"And we're happy to have you Remus," Hermione said. "But why . . ."

"Why what?" Tonks asked.

"Why is Remus wearing a red riding hood?" Luna asked innocently, "I'll grant that it makes him look adorable but it doesn't really seem practical for this sort of activity."

"We were . . ." An extremely red Remus stuttered.

"Playing little red riding hood," Tonks finished. "I was the big bad wolf and I just gobbled him up."

"We'll explain when you're older," Remus hastened to add.

"Can I play too?" Luna asked hopefully.

"NO," Remus shouted. "Now let's talk about something else."

"Darn," Luna said in disappointment, "I never get to play."

And so, an Embarrassed Remus, an amused Tonks, a confused Hermione, and a sulking Luna approached the Count's castle.

"Do you think we should knock?" Tonks asked. As if in answer to her question, the doors swung open to reveal a man dressed in fine silks.

"May I help you?" The man asked with a smirk. "Perhaps have you all for . . . to dinner."

"We're here to ask about Mr. Black," Hermione said with false confidence.

"Are you friends of his?" The man asked.

"Students," Luna replied. "At least me and Hermione are, we wanted to talk to him about Harry Potter."

"I see," the Count's smirk disappeared. "I'm afraid I can't help you, Mr. Black hasn't been here for some time."

"Thank you for your time," Hermione said in disappointment.

"There's still that lead in Germany," Luna said with false cheer.

"That I can help you with," the count interjected. "For a price."

"What Price?" Remus asked wearily.

"When you see Mr. Black," the Count began. "Ask him to visit his old friend the Count."

"Done," Hermione shouted. "How can you help us?"

"Here," the Vampire handed over a large bronze key. "It will take you to Berlin when you say the name of the country that you would like to go to."

"Thank you," Hermione took the key and held it out so everybody could touch it. "Germany."

IIIIIIIIII

"So how did you guys end up in our sewage overflow tank?" The Doctor asked with a barely concealed smirk.

"We were sent here to kill you, Henchgirl, and the Professor." One of the Assassins replied nervously.

"That explains it," the Doctor said with a nod. "That sort of attitude has been known to annoy Mr. Black. Don't annoy him, you wouldn't like him when he's annoyed."

"Oh . . . is there anything to do to make him not want to drown us in raw sewage?"

"Don't worry about it," the Doctor said, waiving off the man's concerns.

"What do you mean don't worry about it?" One of the assassins screamed.

"If Henchgirl saved you then you're safe for now," the Doctor explained. "Mr. Black'll respect her wish to keep you alive unless you do something stupid."

"Would it be possible to defect?" One of the assassins asked hopefully, "and to have the past few weeks wiped from my memory?"

"I'll think about it," the Doctor replied. "But only if you're good."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry landed in the last outpost of civilization on the way to his cabin and walked up the small three building town's only street.

"Evening," an old man waved. "Been expecting you."

"Shopkeeper?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Owner of the General Store," the man agreed. "Come in, got a few things that might be useful to you."

"Why not," Harry sighed. "After you."

"Got a couple things here that you might find useful and a bag of things that you'll need if you're going to be spending a lot of time in the wilderness," the old man gestured to a pile on the counter.

"Why do you think I'll need them?" Harry asked, bracing himself for the worst.

"Cause everyone needs them," the old man replied. "I don't have much of the sight so I'm relying on common sense."

"That's . . . good to hear, quite refreshing really." Harry said with a smile. "What do you recommend?"

"Main thing is a good axe," the old man replied. "I picked this one out because it's got a good blade geometry and because it's got a few charms on it that'll give you a bit of skill, won't have to sharpen it either."

"Great," Harry said with a nod. "Anything else?"

"Few books on how to live in the bush," the man said with a shrug. "And a few books on Canadian Bush magic, nothing too fancy."

"I'll take 'em," Harry gathered everything up. "How much?"

"Two hundred and fifty dollars," the man replied. "Sorry it's so much but I've gotta make a living."

"No problem," Harry handed over the cash. "But why don't you use some sort of odd wizarding money?"

"I'd have taken gold dollars," the man said with a grin. "Or beaver pelts, but it's just easier to do it this way. I think you'll find that even the magic folk show common sense in this country, one of the charms."

"I bet," Harry replied with a shake of his head. "I'd better get going, sooner I get to my cabin the sooner I get these tests done."

"One thing before you go," the old man said, licking his lips. "You'll want some firewood and there's an old snag north of your cabin, you might want to cut it down when you get up there."

"I knew it was too good to be true," Harry muttered to himself as he walked out the door.

Another hour of flight took Harry to his place in the woodland for a few minutes, he just closed his eyes and allowed his senses to enjoy the smells of nature. Everything was new to his city bred nose, smell of pine mixed with other smells to make a symphony better than that of the finest perfumes. It took several seconds for Harry to realize what the lack of pollution was adding to everything and for a moment, he felt at peace. Then he remembered the shopkeeper's suggestion and pulled out his new axe.

Harry was half way through the tree when he was met by a man walking up the trail, "evening." Harry called out.

"Hello," the man replied. "New in these parts?"

"Yup," Harry agreed. "Planning to spend a bit of time here before moving on to someplace else, you?"

"Lived here all my life," the man replied. "Own the bar in town, come in some time and the first drink's on me."

"I might take you up on that," Harry replied with a grin. "Have a good day."

"You too," the man called out as he walked up the path.

"What a nice fellow," Harry muttered to himself. "Well, back to work."

Harry was nearly through the tree when the man from before came running down the path, screaming for him to lock himself in the cabin.

"I wonder what he's on about?" Harry said to himself, "I guess he'll explain when he gets here."

The man ran past as the tree began to fall, crushing a large hairy beast. "My god," the man stopped running. "You killed it."

"Sorry about that," Harry said with a wince. "It was an accident."

"Don't ever be sorry about killing one of those things," the man stared at the corpse. "Thank you Mister . . . what did you say your name was again?"

"Black," Harry replied.

"First name?" The man asked, going into shock.

"Mister," Harry replied. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," the man said automatically. "You mind if I take that thing?"

"It's yours," Harry replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got firewood to cut."

"Of course," the man said stiffly. "Thank you again, if you ever come to my bar . . . if you ever come to my bar, drinks are on the house all night."

"Thanks for the offer," Harry called out over his shoulder. It would be several hours before he realized the name he'd given to the poor fellow. Ah well, he thought to himself. It would have been nice to be Harry Potter again for a few days but it wasn't important.

AN: Last couple chapters have been kinda linked, or something. Don't know if that makes sense, now it's off to work I go. Hi ho Hi ho Hi Ho.