Heroes Assemble!

Free To Be Yourself

Arm in arm, Harry and Daisy wandered through the market below the palace and to one side of the main city. Everyone here was dressed in traditional clothes of the Wakandan people. At least, that's what they assumed. The colours that they wore were a either bright or reflected the nature that surrounded them, just as the architecture did.

There was definitely a distinct variety in the people, though. If Harry had to guess, he'd say that there were at least three, possibly four different tribes that made up the Wakandan people. Regardless, they all had the same thing in common: all were extremely friendly to the pair of white faces that walked among them and were extremely happy to show off their wares, be they food-stuff, man-made or something natural.

"Come on, Harry, try it on," Daisy insisted, accompanying the suggestion with an exaggerated pout. "You'd look good in it."

Harry frowned at the garment that Daisy had plucked from the pile of clothes on the table of the stall that they were currently in front of. His first thought was that it reminded him of something that wizards would wear, it was definitely robe-like. The big difference were the wide, billowing sleeves, the open neckline and the colour. But then, as Harry thought back to some of the robes that Dumbledore or Lockhart wore, it really wasn't that outlandish. And the rust brown with black and gold highlights did actually look good.

Acquiescing to her request, Harry shrugged off his jacket and swapped it for the Wakanda robe. After dropping it over his head and giving it a good wiggle to ensure that it was sitting right, he looked down at himself. To be honest, it actually looked fairly good. The only problem that he could feel were the sleeves. Within seconds, he had to lift up his hands and give them a shake to get the wide, flowing material to sit right.

Movement from his side had him looking back up and he found the middle-aged woman who owned the stall holding out her hands towards him, a 'yes' expression on her face.

"If you pull here," she said in her native language, a language that was translated instantly for Harry through his earing, as she tugged at what he'd originally thought was a loose thread just inside his sleeve, "you can tighten them up, make them fit snug against your arm."

Harry smiled widely at her to show that he was not only pleased with the result but that he understood.

"Perfect!" Daisy beamed. "We'll take it. How much?"

While Daisy was trying to barter with the woman using two different languages and a lot of gestures, Harry found himself looking around some more. A tang in the air that was there one second, gone the next, had him jerking his head around, trying to find the unknown something that had caught his attention.

And then he found it. Or, more precisely, them.

Two boys, maybe ten or eleven were walking through the market, and while one carried a basket of some kind of melon, above their heads, dipping and swirling and spinning backwards and forwards from one to the other, were four of the fruit. Instantly, Harry strode towards them. This was magic. He was certain of it. He could feel it.

Looking closer at the boys as he approached, he noted that neither of them were holding a wand. His eyes widened at the extraordinary control that they were displaying with their magic. Yes, all they were doing was a simple levitation spell – a Hogwarts' first year spell – but no child that he'd seen, really very few adults that he'd seen had that kind of control over their wandless magic. And then he noticed the way that they were holding their hands, with their pointer finger out, directing the fruit. And on the pointer finger of both boys was a small, wooden ring.

"Hi, boys," Harry said, trying to catch their attention.

Apparently, he'd startled them, for both jumped, their eyes darting away from the fruit suspended in the air above them. With a wave of his hand, Harry caught them; a second wave had them directing themselves into the boy's basket like a little procession.