Don't Panic: A Wizard's Guide to Westeros (HP × ASOIAF)

Don't Panic Ch9: Totally Normal

"More east, or west, or something," Sirius, the kind but somewhat hapless merchant, replied vaguely.

"That's..." Gorm pondered how to handle that entirely unhelpful response. "That's... uh..." spotting a clue in the form of the bark the man had told them was 'cinnamon', Gorm challenged the man.

"But Cinnamon only grows in tropical lands. My Nan once got some from a trader all the way from the Summer Islands." Gorm knew he had the man on this point. He was a southerner for-sure.

"It's winter cinnamon" Sirius replied, completely unbothered but what must surely be a blatant lie. Responding to the deadpan look Gorm gave him, he simply added "no really...  I'm serious" then chuckled for some reason.

"uh, huh" Gorm was highly sceptical, but decided to drop it. Instead poking the now suspicious bark.

Shannon rolled her eyes, Gorm was such a stubborn ass. Who cares if it was this mythical 'cinnamon' spice his Nan had once bought, or some completely inedible bark from a tree just outside the gates. She always thought Gorm got too much of his intelligence from his Nan's side of the family. Or was it too little? Honestly, buying tree bark from merchants thinking it's a valuable foreign spice.

He was missing the bigger picture here. The alleged 'cinnamon' was being sold as one lot, inside a beautifully carved wooden box with what looked like silver inlay. The box was vastly more valuable than the unidentifiable bark, and further confirmed the man was, in the nicest possible way, a terrible merchant. "We'll take it" Shannon declared, shutting up her over-zealous husband, and likely preventing a rant.

Sirius smiled at that, taking the three HalfGroat coins graciously, and pushing the stunning box towards her. He even dug out a recipe book that apparently had some good suggestions for use of cinnamon. Shannon didn't have the heart to tell the simple man that she couldn't read. She'd just sell the book later.

This was an excellent day she decided, as she pulled her grumbling conspiracy theorist of a spouse away to let other townsfolk access the stall. Quite a line had formed behind them while they made their purchases. Looking back, she saw the kind but hapless man was now inundated with people and money. Though vastly less money than he should have been taking.

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Having cleared out a suitable amount of merchandise, Sirius packed up the stall and rested in the chair he'd transfigured under the cover of a notice me not charm. That was fun, and definitely felt rewarding. These people had clearly not seen a merchant for what sounded like nearly two years by standard time on Earth. Winters here were ridiculously long.

Of course, with the sheer volume of goods stored in their trunks and pouches, they'd have no trouble being just as generous in other towns. Harry would probably ask him to bump up the prices a bit, but Sirius felt that could be done when Summer was finally in-place and the proper regional economies resumed. Until then he'd play the hapless merchant with far too much merchandise and not an ounce of money sense. Lots of smallfolk would doubtless be getting an unexpected relief as the trio passed through the various towns spread out from here to Winterfell.

Of course, those other towns would require travel, and Sirius was sick of squeezing onto Harry's firebolt just to pick up speed. With that thought, Sirius let out a satisfied sigh, and hopped up from the chair, vanishing it in the process. There was time to spare, and Sirius suddenly had the inspiration to spend his afternoon cobbling together a new broom.

Sure it would be a bit rough, but he was pretty sure he'd be able to get it to fly. He'd just need to find the local carpenter to gather materials. Harry would likely be up in the Castle Keep dealing with the local overlord and his brainy people or something for quite a while. So there was no reason he couldn't get this done with a little hustle, and a whole lot of magic.