Harry's life on the ship resumed as if it had never stopped for one more boring summer. He was back to reading reports and suggestions, making plans and stopping overzealous crew members from pulling consecutive all-nighters and suicidal stunts. The only difference was currently in his hands as he walked down one of the lengthy corridors toward the engineering section.
This thing had obviously been designed by a mad alien to be as hard to operate as possible. Why couldn't there be big buttons labelled with what they did? Buttons were great. But no, everything had to be made of cryptic symbols and arranging them in certain patterns or even moving around a command stone above it. The fact that the entire bloody thing was written in runes he still didn't understand did nothing to endear the device to him, no matter how many times Hermione and the others sang its praises.
Through a combination of trials and errors and of foggy recollections of the few runic words he'd managed to memorise over the summer, he finally found what he was looking for. The long strings of text and atomic diagrams describing their reserves of raw materials, compiled by Lavender, appeared on the screen.
The feeling of victory was quickly squashed as Harry realised the list itself was written in runes. So much for trying to look things up himself. He really hoped Terry read through all those computer science books he brought back quickly so he could start on the translation program he mentioned last week. Or at least make it so they could write with proper letters. At this point, he'd settle for centaur pictograms.
Anything would be better than runes.
At least the translation team continued to go through the ship, one room and console at a time, sticking notes and translations on all of the unknown consoles and labs they'd found. They already discovered a lot about the ship, but they'd barely scratched the surface and he'd prefer if they didn't push the "eject all the air" button by accident.
As he closed the infuriating list and tried to display the ship's energy consumption, he made a mental note, for the third time that week, that he needed to find someone to look into the ship's weapons. They had recently found out it had some, but they didn't know what they did and how they worked. They most likely won't be able to use such heavy weaponry in the war without racking up some serious trouble, but they would at least know how to defend themselves if need be.
Still focused on the slate, his trek through the ship almost came to an abrupt end when he almost ran into a door head first. The main storeroom, finally. He was almost tempted to use his hoverboard to move around the ship faster, but he had to ban their use in the corridors last year because of too many collisions between distracted crew members. He pressed the door's control panel absent-mindedly.
"Lavender, I need some-"
He stopped mid-sentence however, as he discovered that the room he'd stepped in was not the main store room but a communal bedroom filled with wooden furniture, hammocks, board games and a half-finished hand of explosive snap still sending a few sparks every now and then. As they took to spend more time on the ship than in Hogwarts, a good part of the crew had followed their captain's lead and permanently moved in. The new quarters were filling up by the weeks and Harry was starting to worry the heads of house would notice how empty their dorms really were.
"Great. Now how do I open the map on this thing?"
Later that week, in the late hours of the night, Harry arrived at the observation deck they had turned into a mess and relaxation area to find it almost deserter. Only Parvati and Alicia were finishing dinner in a corner as they talked in hushed voices. Harry saluted them with a node before making his way toward his prize: the local console controlling the conjurator. After a good training session with Ron's team and a long evening spent working through yet another pile of reports, the only thing on his mind was a good plate of bangers and mash and a big slice of treacle tart.
Sometimes he wonders how the crew found time to do any work with the amount of reports and ideas they sent him.
Taking up his tray after conjuring the steaming meal on it, Harry turned around only to stop in his tracks. Justin Finch-Fletchley, the very last person he wished to see after Malfoy and Voldemort himself, was coming up to him looking way too pleased with himself. In his arms, several parchment rolls and ingots of different metals told him his "Head negotiator" was coming back from his latest foray into Goblin territory.
Harry cursed under his breath and desperately looked toward the girls in the corner, in search of support to excuse himself from the grinning Justin. He found them leaving the room at a rushed pace. Parvati turned around just before going through the door to mouth the word 'sorry' before disappearing.
Traitors.
"Ah, Captain, you're here. I've been looking all over for you. I just came back from Gringotts and I think you'll like my report."
With a sigh, Harry sat down heavily at the nearest table, putting down his tray. It seemed like he wouldn't escape this tonight.
"Why yes Justin, go on. It's not like I was planning on enjoying a peaceful evening here."
"Perfect. I'll get right to it then."
Completely oblivious to sarcasm as usual, then. He held hope that he would break through to him, one day.
"We've come a long way and established the basis for our future dealings with them. I've started drafting a contract to make sure everything is clearly laid out. Not that it would be legally binding, what with the Ministry not knowing about us or being very friendly toward you, but-"
Merlin, did he love to hear himself talk.