prompt for July 23rd - Harry Potter/Sneakers
Almost directly pursuant to this bit. (There may be a few of these in the next short while; I think I'm close to getting this story DONE, and would like to as soon as possible.)
Prompt for July 23:
To the rescue.
Carl gives it a few minutes before he goes back into the tent. If the kids have half an idea of what they're doing, they'll probably hold out on giving up the whole story for at least a few minutes; he's not expecting more than that, since they've already missed a few things that would help them a lot.
He'd known this was going to be a weird job, but he hadn't expected it to be so utterly alien, in terms of culture.
Once he reaches the point where his head doesn't feel like it'll explode - about the time one of the kids says, "All right, all right, but it's... a bit of a long story" - he heads back into the tent. (He still can't believe the kids are carting a freaking two-bedroom apartment around in the thing.)
"It's..." Hermione pauses, apparently considering her word choice; Carl has to resist a Monty Python crack. "We're sort of on a mission."
He can't resist that opening, though. "From God?"
The redhead's brow furrows. "No, from Dumbledore," he says. "Who's God? Is this another Muggle joke?"
There's a pause, presumably as everyone tries to figure out where to start with that (Carl sure as hell doesn't know), before Hermione finally says, "I'll explain later. Anyway, Dumbledore was our old headmaster. Before he was killed in June, he was giving Harry information about how to defeat - well, you know."
"Why a teenager?" Whistler asks. "Why not find an adult - or better yet, why didn't he go do it himself, before he died?"
"He never explained that," Harry says. "He never explained a lot of things. But I have gone up against... Darth Vader several times - not my idea, the first time he killed my parents - and since the war keeps coming to me, Dumbledore thought it would be good to prepare me to win it."
Mother snorts. "How're you going to do that, by camping in the woods until he gives up?"
"No, this is just because people are probably out looking for us. We were expected at Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year, aside from... everything else. We're trying to keep the details as secret as possible, to keep things out of the wrong hands."
"Admirable goal, but how's anyone supposed to help you if they don't know what you're doing?"
Harry sighs. "We don't want to get anyone else in danger, and anyway, Dumbledore said--"
"All right, we get it," Bishop cuts in. "You are on a mission from God, or might as well be. Hell, if we just had a handy desert, you could make a proper Crusade of it."
"A what?"
There's another pause; this time, Crease is the one covering his face and saying he can't believe this. Carl can't either, for all history wasn't something he paid much attention to. He at least knows the Crusades were a bunch of fanatics being very stupid eight or nine times in a row.
"I'll explain that later as well," Hermione says. "And since you insist, and likely won't draw attention anyway - we're dealing with cursed artifacts. We were in the Ministry looking for one, as it happens. We have to destroy them all before - before the final battle."
"Do you at least know what you're looking for?" Carl asks. "Or how to destroy it once you've got it?"
"We do now."
Carl sighs, and strongly considers leaving the tent again. Lack of use for most of his skill set, completely alien culture, fate of the world pinned on the shoulders of three kids who don't know what the hell they're doing - yeah, this job's got it all, all right.
Prompt for July 23:
To the rescue.
Carl gives it a few minutes before he goes back into the tent. If the kids have half an idea of what they're doing, they'll probably hold out on giving up the whole story for at least a few minutes; he's not expecting more than that, since they've already missed a few things that would help them a lot.
He'd known this was going to be a weird job, but he hadn't expected it to be so utterly alien, in terms of culture.
Once he reaches the point where his head doesn't feel like it'll explode - about the time one of the kids says, "All right, all right, but it's... a bit of a long story" - he heads back into the tent. (He still can't believe the kids are carting a freaking two-bedroom apartment around in the thing.)
"It's..." Hermione pauses, apparently considering her word choice; Carl has to resist a Monty Python crack. "We're sort of on a mission."
He can't resist that opening, though. "From God?"
The redhead's brow furrows. "No, from Dumbledore," he says. "Who's God? Is this another Muggle joke?"
There's a pause, presumably as everyone tries to figure out where to start with that (Carl sure as hell doesn't know), before Hermione finally says, "I'll explain later. Anyway, Dumbledore was our old headmaster. Before he was killed in June, he was giving Harry information about how to defeat - well, you know."
"Why a teenager?" Whistler asks. "Why not find an adult - or better yet, why didn't he go do it himself, before he died?"
"He never explained that," Harry says. "He never explained a lot of things. But I have gone up against... Darth Vader several times - not my idea, the first time he killed my parents - and since the war keeps coming to me, Dumbledore thought it would be good to prepare me to win it."
Mother snorts. "How're you going to do that, by camping in the woods until he gives up?"
"No, this is just because people are probably out looking for us. We were expected at Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year, aside from... everything else. We're trying to keep the details as secret as possible, to keep things out of the wrong hands."
"Admirable goal, but how's anyone supposed to help you if they don't know what you're doing?"
Harry sighs. "We don't want to get anyone else in danger, and anyway, Dumbledore said--"
"All right, we get it," Bishop cuts in. "You are on a mission from God, or might as well be. Hell, if we just had a handy desert, you could make a proper Crusade of it."
"A what?"
There's another pause; this time, Crease is the one covering his face and saying he can't believe this. Carl can't either, for all history wasn't something he paid much attention to. He at least knows the Crusades were a bunch of fanatics being very stupid eight or nine times in a row.
"I'll explain that later as well," Hermione says. "And since you insist, and likely won't draw attention anyway - we're dealing with cursed artifacts. We were in the Ministry looking for one, as it happens. We have to destroy them all before - before the final battle."
"Do you at least know what you're looking for?" Carl asks. "Or how to destroy it once you've got it?"
"We do now."
Carl sighs, and strongly considers leaving the tent again. Lack of use for most of his skill set, completely alien culture, fate of the world pinned on the shoulders of three kids who don't know what the hell they're doing - yeah, this job's got it all, all right.