Make A Wish By: Rorschach's Blot 33 *Chapter 33*: Gimme Another Oil Can

Gimme Another Oil Can

Taken from Harry's guide book

Australia is a lovely country that holds within its borders some of the loveliest beaches in the world. As many people know, many of the early settlers of Australia were convicts that had been arrested for crimes as petty as stealing a loaf of bread. What many people do not know is that this policy was inst.i.tuted by an unknown and presumably overworked Ministry Employee, who was angered at having his holiday canceled. He drafted a law that roughly stated, 'any citizen that steals a loaf of bread shall be punished by being sent to Australia, where he shall be forced to surf and spend his time some of the greatest beaches in the world." The historical record is a bit unclear after that because moments after the policy was adopted the aforementioned Ministry Employee was arrested for the crime of stealing bread and sent to Australia . . . as were several of his successors. This had the odd side effect of draining most of the Ministry's talented people into Australia and leaving the Ministry in the hands of corrupt and incompetent fools. It is interesting to note that the consequences of this unfortunate policy still haunt England's Ministry of Magic. (For further reading see the section of this book pertaining to the election of England's current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

Australia is not without its dangers and every animal in the country can be cla.s.sified as belonging to one or more of the three categories: Dangerous, Poisonous, and sheep. This is due to the fact that Australia has one of the largest levels of ambient magic in the world. The result of this is that Australian magical fauna is so plentiful that it is nearly impossible to conceal it from the non-magical populations. This problem was addressed by making no attempt to hide the most common magical creatures and at the current times, most non-magical peoples think that animals such as the Kangaroo or Koala are as mundane as they are. This program was not always met with success, see the section on the Thylacine in appendix Theta23.

IIIIIIIIII

"What have you got for me, Professor?" Harry asked the smaller man.

"I've been working non-stop since you told me of your plans to go to Australia, and I've developed some specialized equipment for you to test out." The Professor turned, "Henchgirl, bring the item."

"Yesss, Masthter," the girl shambled in dragging a large case behind.

"Put it on the table," the Professor nodded to his a.s.sistant, "and talk normally if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times. No lisping."

"I was just trying to set the mood," the girl glared at her employer, "someone has to, with the way that you've been refusing to cackle insanely lately."

"We've had this discussion Henchgirl," the Professor ignored the glare, "and I for one don't want to be sued for copyright infringement. Now get back to work."

"This conversation isn't over," Henchgirl shot the professor another glare before smiling at Harry, "as soon as Mr. Black leaves, you and I are going to have another chat."

The Professor shuddered as he watched his a.s.sistant leave, "I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"Either that or she's keeping you off balance because she wants something," Harry shrugged, "don't suppose it matters much in the short run."

"Yes, well," the Professor turned his attention to the large case on the table, "as you know, nearly every animal in Australia falls into one or more of the following three categories; poisonous, dangerous, and sheep." He patted the case fondly, "and that's why I invented this little baby, it is an advancement on one of the most popular personal defense devices presently used in Australia."

"Wow," Harry replied in an awed tone as he opened the case, "what is . . . why does it look like a stick?"

"It's not just a stick," the Professor looked annoyed, "it's been reinforced by carbon nanotubes, weighted to increase damage, enchanted to feel light to the user and increase inertia, and it comes with this stylish carrying case."

"O . . . K," Harry nodded, "what am I suppose to do with it?"

"When traveling in Australia, you're bound to see some of the native wildlife." The small man began to lecture, "and when you do hit it with your personal defense device before it has a chance to attack."

"I think I can use this," Harry lifted the stick and tested its weight.

"Good," the Professor nodded in satisfaction, "and before you leave, I have just one question."

"What's that?"

"Can I borrow your new Personal Defence Device?" The Professor asked nervously, "I still have to have that chat with Henchgirl." He paused and bit his lower lip, "and I when I do, I'd like to have a logic, reason, and a large stick on my side."

"I'll just be going now," Harry backed out of the room and ported down.

Harry felt a rush of energy as he looked around the new land, magic seemed to be as common as air in this country.

IIIIIIIIII

Peter was nervous, everything he had done in his life was in the pursuit of one goal . . . staying alive. Shaking in fear, he sat down on his bed and tried to get to sleep. It was starting to look like he was not going to survive much longer, the dark lord wasn't going to stop sending him after Black . . . and he would guess that Black wasn't going to stop his . . . plans.

"If only I knew where Harry was," Wormtail sighed. "He'd be dumb enough to fall for some sob story about feeling guilty and wanting to join the other side and I doubt Black would kill me if Harry wanted to let me live."

A distant creek nearly caused Peter to wet himself and his eyes snapped open.

"Maybe Dumbledore?" Peter shivered, "old fool's always willing to give a second chance." The question was if Black would be willing to leave things in the old man's hands, "probably not." Tears ran down Peter's face, what had he done to deserve this.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry did what many travelers do when first in a new country, he found a bar.

"Evening," one of the patrons nodded his greeting. "New in town?"

"Just got in," Harry nodded. "Seems like a nice place so far."

"G.o.d's own land," the man nodded.

"Could I get a beer?" Harry smiled at the pretty bartender, "whatever you think is good."

"Here ya go," the woman put a gla.s.s in front of Harry. "Drink up."

Harry and his group of new friends spent several hours drinking before someone put forth the idea of visiting another fine drinking establishment. And so our hero and twelve of his newest friends stumbled out of the bar and down the street.

"Hey look . . . a giant mouse." Harry tried to focus on the large angry kangaroo blocking his path.

"Just back away mate," one of his suddenly sober drinking companions was busy hoping that he could save the new chum from a rather painful experience with the local wildlife.

"Wha?" Harry stumbled and missed getting kicked in a very sensitive place, "so you wanna fight then? Ok, let's fight."

Harry's group of drunken companions watched in shock as their new buddy drunkenly swayed out of the way of several kicks and then fell his opponent with a clumsy punch to the jaw.

"Why don't you come this way now mate," one of Harry's buddies took him by the arm. "There's another bar down the street."

"Didn't wanna fight," Harry stumbled off. "Never wanna fight but I always get into trouble."

"Don't worry about it mate," his buddy patted him on the shoulder. "He started it and there was nothing you could do."

"Just wanted to have a quiet time and look at what had to happen," Harry gave a drunken belch. "Why does this always happen to me."

"Don't know mate," the man shrugged. "But I do know that another beer will make you feel better."

"Yeah I . . ." Harry froze, "always wanted one of those."

"Wanted one of what?" Harry's buddy blinked, "ah . . . well, try not to fall."

"What's all this then?" A police constable walked out of his station and watched as a man scaled the side of his building . . . . with what seemed to be the intent to steal the sign.

"He's a Pom, just met him this arvo, he only flew in today, so we took him to the pub. Nice guy, bit enthusiastic at times, but d.a.m.n he can drink." The constable chuckled and slipped the notepad back into his shirt. "No worries then, just make sure he doesn't get into trouble."IIIIIIIIII

"My head," Harry dug himself out from under a pile of a.s.sorted street signs and looked around. "What did I do last night . . . and for that matter, where the h.e.l.l am I?"

"Afternoon," a heavily tanned face looked down. "Was wondering when you'd wake up."

"Where am I?" Harry looked around at the desert landscape, "and how did I get here?"

"Came in last night on a broom," the man's smile deepened. "Fancy a cold one?"

"Sure," Harry took the oil can and tried to remember the last night's events. "I remember getting into a fight with someone . . . and something about a sign . . . and then it all goes blank."

"I wouldn't worry about it," the man shrugged. "She'll be right mate."

"I guess," Harry nodded. "Where am I anyway?"

"Nowhere," the man shrugged. "Nearest town is Coober Pedy if that means anything to you."

"No," Harry rubbed his eyes. "But at the moment it wouldn't matter if I'd been born there, can't think."

"Surprised you can breathe after all those spider bites," the man chuckled. "But I suppose you're a lucky one."

"Spider bites?" Harry blinked.

"Yeah," the man nodded. "Figured you for a goner . . . didn't have enough time to brew up some potion and didn't have any on hand but you pulled through . . . can't say the same for the spiders."

"Oh," Harry blinked again. "I'm Mr. Black."

"Folks around here call me the Mechanic," the tanned man grinned. It's the cause of my habit of tinkering with things, both magic and non."

"Nice to meet you," Harry nodded. "Do you know how I get here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine mate," the Mechanic shrugged. "Staggered in last night, had a broom with you when you arrived but it wasn't in any condition to fly."

"Really?" The pounding in Harry's head started to go away, "do you know anyone that can you fix it?"

The mechanic sucked his breath through his teeth. "I dunno mate, I took a look and it's as ugly as a bucket of smashed crabs and half as friendly. I s'pose I could fix it, but the parts are gonna be a b.i.t.c.h. Ya ever considered using one of these instead?" The Mechanic held up an odd-looking device that appeared to have been cobbled together from a sheet of corrugated iron, baling wire, and half a roll of duct tape. "I've been tinkering with one of these for a bit and I managed to get nearly twice the performance of a firebolt . . . then again, the firebolt is a pommy piece of c.r.a.p. No endurance, one good nip from a yabbie or bunyip and it goes to pieces . . . fancy another beer?"

"Sure," Harry shrugged. "You want a job?"

"What?" The Mechanic tossed over another oil can.

"I got a friend that would love to meet you," Harry explained. "Couple friends actually, they like to invent things too."

"Never said I was an inventor," the Mechanic frowned. "Just like to do a bit of tinkering in my spare time."

"Still," Harry pressed. "I think you'd be a great help, my friends are great but they can be a little . . . disconnected from reality."

"Heads stuck in the clouds?" The Mechanic nodded.

"Be good to have someone around that isn't insane," Harry mused. "Do you have a floo connection?"

"Never needed one," the Mechanic shrugged.

"Then do you mind if I leave you a cell floo?" Harry pulled one out of his pocket. "In case you change your mind? If this thing is half as good as you say it is then I know that there's a market for it."

"I suppose," the Mechanic scratched his chin. "Let me think about it for a bit, I'll be in touch."

"That's all I ask," Harry nodded. "How does this thing work?"

"Same as a broom," the Mechanic replied. "I a.s.sume you know how to use one of those?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "But won't I be seen on my way to . . . what was the name of that town again?"

Coober Pedy," the Mechanic smiled. "Don't worry about it, folks around here mind their own business and no tourists expect to see strange things in the outback."

"Ok," Harry shrugged. "Thanks, will a point me charm get me to Coober Pedy?"

"Best let me show you a few charms to keep you alive in the desert before you go," the Mechanic smiled. "It's some of the most beautiful lands on earth and some of least hospitable."

"I'm always happy to learn new spells," Harry smiled. "Especially when they might keep me alive."

"The willingness to learn enough to keep yourself alive puts you ahead of half the tourists that come out here," the Mechanic smiled. "The first charm is a water detection charm . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

"We've managed to get Black's location again master," random death eater #221 simpered.

"Have Wormtail take another team out to destroy him," the dark lord sighed. "And tell them to do it right this time."

"Thank you, master," the death eater nearly broke into tears when he wasn't told to be on the team. "It shall be as you command."

"Crucio," the dark lord cast the spell reluctantly . . . it was starting to get a little old, what he needed to do was find a new pain causing curse.

"Thank you, master," the death eater writhed on the ground until the curse ended. Then he jumped to his feet and rushed out of the room before the dark lord ordered him to accompany the suicide mission.

"Wormtail," the death eater's attempt to sneer was spoiled by his good mood. "The master has a little job for you."

"What is it?" Peter had to focus on his bladder to keep from losing control.

"The dark lord wishes you to get a team and put an end to Black once and for all," the death eater smirked. "I've already sent a man to get your portkey."

IIIIIIIIII

"We need another Portkey," the disguised death eater frowned at the clerk. "With as many safety features as you can add."

"Sure thing," the clerk shrugged. "But it'll be expensive."

"Whatever," the death eater waved off the concerns. "Just make sure that it doesn't cause people to plummet to their deaths . . . and make sure that it can't be controlled by an outside source, or cause people to reappear in an area too small to hold them."

"I've got just the thing," the portkey seller nodded. "It will put you on the ground, and it cannot be tampered with."

"Really?" The disguised death eater raised an eyebrow.

"If anything bad happens," the portkey seller smirked. "It won't be because of this portkey."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes," the portkey seller was losing track of the number of death eaters that he'd sent to their death . . . wasn't important but still, it would have been nice to know."

IIIIIIIIII

"Is everyone ready?" Wormtail looked around, praying for an excuse to delay the attack.

"Yes," the depressed death eaters nodded.

"No one has to use the water closet?" Wormtail was grasping at straws, "everyone has their wand?"

"Yes," shoulders slumped.

"Ok," Wormtail's eyes shut. "Here we go."

The death eaters immediately a.s.sumed formal dueling stances on their arrival and waited . . . and waited.

"Are you sure that this is Black's location?" One of the death eaters spoke up.

"Yes," Wormtail wet himself. "He's just waiting for us to let our guard down."

"Hey," one of the death eaters spoke up. "What's this thing?"

The a.s.sorted death eaters glanced over, "looks like some sort of animal." One shrugged, "poke it with a stick or something."

"Ok," the death eater took a few minutes to transfigure a rock into a stick. "Here we go."

Wormtail's first indication that something had gone wrong was a low growl from the mystery creature. Wormtail's second indication that something had gone wrong was the blood-curdling screams of his group as the small funny looking creature tore them apart. And Wormtail's third indication that something had gone terribly wrong was a sharp pain in his b.u.t.tocks as the small odd-looking creature tore it off . . . it was then that he activated the portkey and escaped.

Above it all and oblivious to the carnage that was taking place below him, Harry Potter put the new broom through its paces . . . if that Mechanic wouldn't come work for him then he was going to have to come back for more of these things . . . they were great, the Mechanic wasn't kidding when he said it was better than the firebolt.

IIIIIIIIII

Wormtail reappeared in front of a group of excited death eaters, "it was an ambush . . . everyone is dead."

"Yes we know," one of the older death eaters nodded. "How did they die?"

"What?" Wormtail frantically applied pressure to his wounded b.u.t.tocks, "help me."

"Oh very well," the older death eater cast a couple of quick clotting charms. "So how did they die?"

"Black conjured up some sort of horrible creature and had it attack," Wormtail spoke between screams of pain. "It tore everyone apart before we had a chance to fight back."

"Alright," the old death eater looked around. "Who had torn apart by some sort of horrible creature?"

"I did," one of the newer recruits waved his ticked. "Hooray, I win the pool."

"Congratulations," the older death eater nodded. "Your share comes out to ten thousand gallons . . . now, who had Wormtail survives but with ruined b.u.t.tocks?"

IIIIIIIIII

Harry landed beside an odd-looking contraption that looked like an alien s.p.a.cecraft, shrugging he turned to the nearest person.

"Excuse me," Harry smiled.

"Yeah?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"Could you tell me where the nearest bar is?" Harry sighed, "for some reason, I really want something to drink that isn't water."

"I can understand that," the man nodded. "Up the street and to the left . . . just so's you know, it's underground."

"Oh," Harry blinked. "Sounds interesting."

"Have fun mate," the man nodded. "I'd like to stay and talk but there are Opals to be found."

"Good luck," Harry walked up the street and down to the bar.

"What can I do for you mate?" The bartender raised an eyebrow.

"A pint of whatever happens to be good," Harry yawned.

"Here you are," the bartender put a gla.s.s in front of Harry. "Just get in?"

"Yeah I . . . d.a.m.n it," Harry flicked a spider off his arm and onto the bar.

"Mate," the bartender paled. "I don't know how to tell you this but . . . well."

"What he's trying to say is," everyone in the bar froze in shock as the Redback spider began suffering violent convulsions. "Cor . . . look at that."

"Poor thing never had a chance," the bartender shook his head as the spider made one last valiant effort to move before expiring.

"Sorry about that," Harry winced. "For some reason, they keep doing that . . . not sure why."

"No worries," the bartender shook his head in shock. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Mr. Black," Harry sighed.

"Ah," the bartender nodded that explained everything.

"Ah," the men in the bar nodded.

"Fancy another drink?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. He was beginning to like this country, no death eater attacks, friendly people, and he could learn to live with constant spider attacks . . . wasn't like they were poisonous . . . right?

AN: Thank Finbar and the other people in my group from Australia. Harry is not bothered by poisons, that's why the spider bite didn't hurt him. Harry's blood is filled with all sorts of anti-venom along with all sorts of other strange things, that's why the spider died.

OMAKE:"You hear the joke about how the Ministry's decision to give Black the lead in fighting the death eaters?" The Unspeakable took a gulp of his drink.

"Tell us," one of the others raised his hand to signal another round.

"Well, he got the late Umb.i.t.c.h, the Aurors, and Black all together and then he let a rabbit loose in the forbidden forest." The Unspeakable giggled, "said that whoever caught the rabbit first would get the t.i.tle of the best and be given the job of tracking down all the death munchers. Umb.i.t.c.h took one look at the forest and concluded that rabbits don't exist. The Aurors went in with fifty men and came out with ten . . . having fought a great battle with the rabbit and barely escaped with their lives. And Mr. Black . . . he didn't even bother to show up . . . three days later, the rabbit died . . . of 'natural causes'"

The men roared with laughter until one managed to gain enough self-control to speak, "don't you mean that the rabbit died . . . in an 'accident'" This, of course, set off another round of laughter, needless to say, that the joke wasn't appreciated when it finally made its way to the Department of Magical Incompetents . . . err . . . that is to say the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sorry about that typo earlier.