Stranded (Harry Potter AU) (Complete)

[Cadmus von Eizenbern]

Hm so actually a little girl? Or some magic creature looking like one?

Anyway yeah, the situation with the Dursleys sounds really unfortunate. Might want to go and lobby.

Click to shrink...

If tropes hold, she's a Veela, possibly Gabrielle.
So, both?

Anyway, this will be interesting. Before, they always had an option to move deeper inside the island and wait for opportunity. Now, they are on a time limit - both to rescue the prisoner before she is further harmed and getting away from the island and the pursuit once alarm sounds.

 

[Beyogi]

If tropes hold, she's a Veela, possibly Gabrielle.
So, both?

Anyway, this will be interesting. Before, they always had an option to move deeper inside the island and wait for opportunity. Now, they are on a time limit - both to rescue the prisoner before she is further harmed and getting away from the island and the pursuit once alarm sounds.

Click to shrink...

And it's not canon Harry, so no convenient Imperio to solve the problems.

 

[Starfox5]

Hm so actually a little girl? Or some magic creature looking like one?

Click to shrink...

Both? It'll be revealed in the story, of coruse.

Anyway yeah, the situation with the Dursleys sounds really unfortunate. Might want to go and lobby.

Click to shrink...

Well, you have to draw the line somewhere - otherwise, a few generations down the line, every muggle knows about magic.

If tropes hold, she's a Veela, possibly Gabrielle.
So, both?

Click to shrink...

Gabrielle would be a little too much of a coincidence. "Oh, look, they kidnapped the little sister of Ron's sister in law".

Anyway, this will be interesting. Before, they always had an option to move deeper inside the island and wait for opportunity. Now, they are on a time limit - both to rescue the prisoner before she is further harmed and getting away from the island and the pursuit once alarm sounds.

Click to shrink...

Exactly! No holing up!

And it's not canon Harry, so no convenient Imperio to solve the problems.

Click to shrink...

Oh, yes - that's why this is shortly after their O.W.L.s. Any later, and they would have too many spells to solve their problems.

 

[Beyogi]

Oh, yes - that's why this is shortly after their O.W.L.s. Any later, and they would have too many spells to solve their problems.

Click to shrink...

Makes sense yeah, they were struggling a lot in the beginning. Especially Hermione seemed pretty limited, but I guess it makes sense if she put her intellect into fighting Harry rather than learning useful survival spells for their adventures.

 

[Starfox5]

Makes sense yeah, they were struggling a lot in the beginning. Especially Hermione seemed pretty limited, but I guess it makes sense if she put her intellect into fighting Harry rather than learning useful survival spells for their adventures.

Click to shrink...

Yeah. They had other priorities than "open warfare" or "survival in the wilderness". And they're basically fifth years.

 

[silentorphan]

"So, why can't you take a nap?" He sounded honestly concerned.

But he had sounded honestly concerned before, in front of McGonagall, after he had cast that Tongue-Tying Hex on her. Still… She clenched her teeth, then took a deep breath. "I hate waiting. I'm not the most patient person."

Click to shrink...

I half-expected that somewhere in the following conversation Hermione would ask, with complete sincerity, if being Stunned unconscious would give the same benefits as natural rest/sleep.

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 19: The Hole

The Nest, Somerset, Britain, July 13th, 1996

"How interesting. I would have never suspected that one could combine those two potions. Not without blowing something up, of course." Cynthia laughed in that slightly grating manner of hers. "Like Bowtruckle. Remember her? She was a menace in Potions."

Of course he remembered Melissa Bowtruckle. Severus Snape rarely, if ever, forgot anything or anyone. Which was as much a curse as a blessing, but that was neither here nor there. "I do recall a number of… memorable… incidents. Slughorn should've banned her from touching a cauldron." He reached for his glass - the wine, as always when he visited the ancient seat of the Avery Family, was excellent.

Cynthia shrugged, making her thin, expensive silk robes reveal a little more of her chest. More than Severus wanted to see, in any case. The movement looked careless, but Severus knew better - Cynthia had tried that before, after all. "Her aunt was the head of the Ministry's accounting," she said.

He knew that, of course. It explained everything about both Slughorn and the Ministry. "Until she was murdered in the war," he commented. Margaret Bowtruckle hadn't been as skilled at playing both sides as she had thought, and the Dark Lord had decided that her successor would be more pliable.

Cynthia raised her eyebrows for a moment. "Yes," she said. "You rarely mention the war."

He nodded. "It was a terrible time for everyone," he said.

She narrowed her eyes as he had known she would. "That could've come straight from the Prophet's memorial essay."

He inclined his head. "Nevertheless, it's true."

She looked at him, then smiled. "And we're finally approaching the reason why you suddenly visited. You wouldn't have visited me merely to talk about a new potion that you hadn't fully tested yet."

"Indeed." There was no need to deny it. Cynthia knew where he stood. That she acted as if she hadn't accepted it was just her pride steering her.

Her smile vanished. "You're here because of her."

There was no need to ask who she was talking about. For both of them, there was only one witch they didn't need to name when they were talking. "I'm here on her behalf - and for you," he told her.

"Really." She leaned back, gently moving her glass to make the wine in it swirl. "I have my doubts about your second claim."

"Your interests overlap, in some ways," he said before taking a sip from his own glass. It was a rare vintage, and it would've been a shame to waste it.

"The only way our interests overlap is that we both would like you to change your interest in her."

Severus didn't move a muscle in response to the barb, though he had to tighten his hold on his temper. Contrary to certain malicious rumours, he was perfectly aware of where Lily's feelings lay. And that she would never feel the same for him as he felt for her. And he had accepted that. Mostly. But that didn't mean that he appreciated anyone else touching on the subject. "I'm talking about her child's disappearance." He felt the familiar anger well up inside him and told himself, as he often did, that it wasn't the brat's fault that he had been born to James Potter. That he was Lily's child, first and foremost. As usual, it didn't help. Not when the brat not only looked like but acted like his father according to the rumours he kept hearing.

Cynthia didn't have his self-control, honed by spending seven years as a poor half-blood amongst Slytherins while the Blood War raged outside Hogwarts' walls. She twitched, then took a large sip from her glass to hide the reaction. "The accident in Knockturn Alley. It was extensively covered in the Prophet."

"And it is the subject of both an official investigation by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as well as a private investigation by Dumbledore himself," Severus told her.

Another twitch. Cynthia, like many of her so-called peers amongst the Old Families, didn't like any reminder that they weren't the only, or even the greatest, power in Britain. The irony was that few had ever seen what Dumbledore was truly capable of. They only knew that the Dark Lord had considered Dumbledore his equal. Which, of course, was a good reason to fear the old wizard. "Flouting the law." She scoffed as she refilled her glass.

"On the contrary," he corrected her, taking another sip from his glass. "It's perfectly legal to investigate yourself - although certain actions undertaken during an investigation might be illegal." He waited a moment for her to take another swallow, then went on. "Of course, when their child's life is in danger, few would care overly much about the law. Even less if they were assured the protection of someone who could easily place himself above the law, should he choose so."

"Dumbledore hasn't done so. Not even when the Ministry was falling to the Dark Lord," she retorted.

Severus smiled. "It wasn't necessary, then. But he was prepared to do so." He didn't actually know that - Dumbledore knew better than to trust a spy with such information - but he knew the old man.

Cyntia tensed some more. Good. That would keep her from attempting to leverage this for some foolish demand. Or some foolish fancy. "I don't want my family dragged into this… affair. We have nothing to do with it, anyway."

"You don't. But your predecessors did." Severus finished his glass. "Though no one needs to know that. As long as certain crucial information is shared, of course."

"Why did she send you?" she asked.

This time, he shrugged. "She knows that you're amongst my closest acquaintances."

"So, she uses you and our relationship to get what she wants." Cynthia narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into a cynical smile.

"Yes." He nodded, his expression bland.

"Doesn't that… infuriate you?" she asked, not quite managing to hide her disappointment.

"A mother doing anything to save her child?" Severus shook his head. "That's only natural."

"Her child."

He raised his eyebrows at her, and she looked away.

After a moment, she sighed - through clenched teeth. "You want to know about the Portkey's origin."

"Yes." He couldn't care less, actually, but Lily wanted the information. And what she wanted, he would deliver. One way or the other. Something Cynthia was well aware of, of course.

She sighed again.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 13th, 1996

Hermione Granger clenched her teeth and tore her eyes away from where they had strayed. This wasn't the time to be distracted by Harry - by Potter. It never was the time to be distracted, anyway. "We need to break her out," she whispered.

"Not right now!" he protested.

"Of course not!" She glared at him. How stupid did he think she was? Hermione wasn't the one haring off on half-baked plans and uncontrolled impulses! "But we need to find out what spells are on the building."

"Without alerting the village. If they have a captive, they'll pay more attention to the cells."

"That's obvious." She looked up. "At the very least, we can test if they have spells that repel small animals. I doubt that they bother checking whenever a rat or bird gets caught in a ward." Even though that would be the logical thing to do.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Certainly not at night."

She nodded and raised her wand. "Avis."

A small flock of birds appeared. Tropical birds - she doubted that they were native to the island, but they shouldn't look too much out of place to anyone who wasn't an ornithologist. And they might have blown to the island from the mainland.

A flick of her wand sent one of the birds up to the barred window on the first floor. She held her breath as the small animal approached the bars - and released it, relieved, when it passed through without being repelled or worse.

"Seems animals can enter the building," Harry commented.

"Small birds can," she corrected him. "That doesn't mean that other animals can enter as well."

"Well, would they ward the building against vermin but let birds enter?"

"Many people don't consider birds a pest," she pointed out. "Although animagi might be able to escape from this prison." Not that many animagi would be caught here in the first place - they were extremely rare.

"Well, unless you studied ahead more than I expected, that won't help us at all," Harry said.

"It wouldn't help us even if one of us were an animagus - we need to get her out of the cell, and I doubt she can transform into an animal."

"We could shrink her."

"Only if there are no spells that repel humans," she pointed out. "If they focus their wards on the walls, they'll cover the windows as well. Which means the only way in would be the door." She shook her head. She hated to do this, but… "We need to find out more about the village and make a plan."

"Right." Harry looked up at the window, then nodded. "Let's see if the ship's warded against animals."

Hermione sent another bird to the ship - it landed on the mast without trouble, then swooped down on deck - and pulled up sharply when something jumped up from below.

"They've got a cat on the ship," Harry hissed.

"That will complicate any plan to stow away while shrunk," she said.

"Yeah."

"Perhaps one of the fishing boats…" She looked at the beach, where the few boats had been pulled out of the water.

"If they can pass through whatever spells protect the island," Harry said. "The protected zone can't be too big - the bigger it is, the greater the risk someone will notice."

"But it could easily be big enough to let the boats fish," she pointed out. "Then again - that would likely mean that the boats could pass through the defences or that the defences aren't lethal. They wouldn't want their own people to die because of a sudden current or a simple mistake." Another thought crossed her mind. "And they would want the area big enough for the wyvern to hunt in the sea."

"But they would have to protect the boats from the wyvern," Harry retorted. "Perhaps the entire area out to the unprotected sea is protected against the wyvern?"

"That would make sense." She nodded. If the fishing boats were to be used, they couldn't be used in an area where the wyvern hunted. So they either could pass through the defences - or this side of the island was warded. "But we shouldn't stay here discussing things. Let's move."

"Right."

They moved away from the building, further up the base of the peninsula. The rocky ridge that hid the cove from this side of the sea wasn't particularly high, but it was enough to look down on a few buildings.

"All the roofs look like they get regularly used," she commented. There was laundry, some chairs, pots and planters… Harry's plan to hide on a roof wasn't looking like it would work.

"Yes. We'll have to find out how far out the fishing boats roam," he said.

That would be hard without a reliable hiding spot.

*****​

"We can't hide on the roofs," Hermione said.

Harry Potter wanted to contradict her. There had to be a way around that. But no roof he studied - well, looked at; without a telescope, it was a little difficult to study them in detail - did seem to be regularly occupied by the tenants. And they would notice a coconut on their property.

"Seems so," he muttered and ignored her snort. "But we need to know if we can steal a fishing boat or not." Well, they could just risk it - but he didn't like the odds. If this were a Quidditch match, he'd already be sailing, but the stakes were too high for this.

"Well, we could create a hideout at the closest beach, but if they only use a narrow cone of the sea outside the port, we might miss them going fishing. If they even go fishing regularly - they might just keep the boats and nets because that's how they have always done things."

"Why would they do that?" Harry asked. That sounded stupid.

"Tradition? Stubborn refusal to admit things changed?"

"That complaint sounds familiar," he shot back. "I don't think we want to have that argument while we're hiding here."

"Sorry." He glanced over and saw that she looked like she regretted it. "But you can't deny that wizards are traditional. It's not as the Hogwarts Express has been upgraded to an electrical or a diesel engine."

"Why would they do that if it's working just fine? I think they're using the boats. And if you squint, you can see a small trench in the sand where they dragged the boat on the beach."

She squinted, but judging by the way she pursed her lips, she couldn't see it. Well, she wasn't a Seeker. "Trust me," he said.

"Alright. But if it's not very visible, then they don't use the boats very often."

That was true. He clenched his teeth for a moment. "Yes." That meant they might wait for days. On the other hand… "See how securely they tied up the boats? They wouldn't do that if the boats couldn't be used to escape."

"Or they don't want the hassle of recovering the boat after their defences kill or stun the escaping captive," she countered. "There might be spells on the boats in either case. That would also explain why they don't use the boats very often if it's a lot of work to get them ready."

He nodded.

"If this island were easy to escape from, someone would probably have found it already," she went on.

"Stealing a boat isn't easy," he said.

"Certainly not when you don't know the right spells."

Once more, he clenched his teeth. "But we know they haven't secured the port itself - we can enter and leave by swimming underwater. So, they aren't perfect."

"Right," she admitted. "But that doesn't help us as long as we can't find out where they might have been sloppy."

"We might have to take a chance there," he said.

She didn't like it. He could tell with a glance. "Let's find out if the other buildings have similar defences like the ones we saw at the prison. That should give us a clue about the whole village."

"Well, with how close the houses are to each other, I think they limit their wards to the walls and roof. Otherwise, they might stumble into each other's defences when they're stumbling home - like the man there." He nodded towards a pirate leaving the apparent tavern on shaky legs.

"Oh. Yes, that seems like a sound deduction."

"Elementary, Dr Watson."

She snorted again. "I'll send birds out once we're ready to swim away. Just in case."

"Good idea." Though if the pirates became aware of their presence and started searching for them, it would only be a question of time until they were found.

The more Harry thought about it, the more it looked like they would have to just pick a plan and trust their luck. Or… "We might have to take a hostage. Grab a drunk pirate and force them to take the girl and us out to the sea."

"They might not speak English," she pointed out.

"I think they would understand a wand pointed at their head just fine," he countered.

"And they would likely try to alert the others - or trick us," she said.

"Held at wand point?" Who would be so stupid?

"If they think we wouldn't… do it? Or if they think we'd hand them over to the authorities, and they'll be executed?" She tilted her head a little.

He grinned. "I think between the hexes we cast on each other, we can convince a pirate that we're serious."

She snorted. "As long as we can keep the screams from alerting others."

"Yes."

*****​

Unknown Island, July 14th, 1996

Hermione Granger felt both tired and relieved when they finally reached the beach after leaving the village. The sun wasn't yet rising, but it wouldn't be much longer - it was already easier to spot their tracks in the sand as she used a Water-Making Spell to erase them in the surf.

Harry did the same in the dry sand with his Breeze Charm after they had reached the treeline, and a few Cleaning and Drying Charms to get rid of the sand later, they could dress again.

Which was also a relief - without the distraction of hiding from a village full of pirates, and with the sun rising, seeing Harry in his briefs was a little distracting. Hermione shook her head and forced herself to focus. She had much more important things to do than cater to her hormones and ogle the boy. It was just stress, anyway. And purely aesthetic appeal.

Sighing, she slipped her top on and then pulled her shoes on. "That reminds me - we can use my bird to carry a letter to the girl. Once we're ready to rescue her." It wouldn't do to have someone spot the parchment in her cell.

"Or a wand," Harry said.

"I doubt she can use a wand - she looked too young for that."

"You only saw the back of her head, didn't you?"

She pursed her lips. "She looked too young for Hogwarts. Too small."

"Well, if she was curled up under a blanket…"

That was possible - in theory. She hadn't taken a good look, after all. Still, she didn't think they were dealing with an older girl. "We'll find that out once we rescue her, I guess."

"Yes. let's go back to the shelter."

"Let's."

Deciding how to rescue the girl and what plan to choose to escape the island could wait.

*****​

Finally! Hermione Granger sighed when they reached the shelter. Travelling by Levitation Charm wasn't as exhausting as walking through the jungle, but to keep the charm going for the entire time was tiring all the same. And while her leg muscles weren't screaming from the exertion, her thighs hurt from having sat on a plank for such a long time. Although not as much as they hurt when they had used the plank for the first time.

"Dear Lord, I'm getting used to this," she muttered as she entered the shelter.

"To what?" Harry asked.

"Travelling on a plank," she replied before she thought better of it.

He grinned as she had known he would. "We'll make an enthusiastic flyer out of you, yet!"

"It's not flight - it's levitation," she corrected him.

"The effect is the same." He shrugged. "But we need to decide what we do."

She nodded, then had to stifle a yawn. "After we've slept, I think."

"I'll take the first watch," he said at once.

"Alright." She was too tired to argue. "Coconut lunch?"

He frowned but nodded. "I'd like to fish, but…"

There was no time. She nodded as well and summoned a coconut. She was now thoroughly sick of the taste, she discovered, despite being hungry. "I wish we had stolen some food in the village," she commented.

"There wasn't anything outside," Harry told her. "I had hoped for some fish drying in the sun, but…" He inclined his head. "Though we can consider this for the next trip - if we steal food, they might blame each other."

"Or they'll search for us," she pointed out. "What we need to consider is moving closer to the village. We can't spend hours going back and forth every day."

"The closer we are, the greater the risk of being discovered," he replied.

She nodded. "Sometimes, it's worth it. Once we have a plan, we need to move there anyway." They wouldn't have time to travel back to the shelter with the girl. They would have to leave at once after getting her out of the cell - preferably without being noticed until they were outside the island's wards.

"Once we have a plan."

That was the problem, wasn't it? But Hermione was too tired to do any serious planning.

*****​

"So…" Harry Potter cleared his throat after finishing his dinner - more coconut. He was so sick of it. "We've got a few options to escape the island."

"And we can't be certain any of them will work," Hermione cut in.

He rolled his eyes and continued. "We can build a raft and sail away. We can build a raft, shrink it, and swim underwater until we're outside the island's wards, then unshrink the raft and sail away."

"We don't know how far out the island's defences reach," she pointed out. "We haven't tested them - and we only assume that they don't work underwater, which is by no means assured. And if we test them, we risk alerting the pirates."

"We could steal a fishing boat and use that to sail outside the range of the island's wards," he said.

"If the boat's enchanted to pass safely through the wards - which is not certain; to determine that, we would have to observe them as they fish, and we would still have to guess about the range of the defences," she objected. "And that assumes that we can defeat the spells that secure the boats to the shore in the first place."

"We can try to stow away on the pirate ship - either shrunk or otherwise hiding."

"We don't know how long it will be until the ship leaves nor what defences it has - and shrinking ourselves is dangerous. We'd also have to deal with the ship's cat should we manage to shrink ourselves without injury." She bared her teeth at him.

He snorted. "We can also kidnap a pirate and force them to take us through the wards."

"Provided we can communicate with them, and cow them sufficiently to not betray us - and assuming they know how to pass through the wards safely and can do so." Hermione shook her head. "That's a lot of assumptions."

"Yes. But all of our plans rely on assumptions." Luck, in other words. He shrugged. "We can't stay hidden. Sooner or later, they'll notice that someone killed the wyvern."

"And we can't leave the girl in their hands," she added.

He nodded. "Exactly. So, we have to pick a plan and do it."

She let out her breath through clenched teeth. "Yes."

"So, what'll be?" he asked, leaning forward and putting both elbows on the table.

"Barring more information that sufficiently alters our view of the situation, I don't think trying to sail a raft away from the island is a good idea. It's an obvious way off the island, so the pirates would have guarded against it. Having the defences stop and possibly sink ships and other vessels that lack the correct spells would also add to the protection of the island itself, so it would make sense that the original casters would've chosen such a defence."

He nodded. "Assuming that they were able to cast such spells."

"They were able to hide the island and ward it against detection spells cast by Dumbledore," she pointed out. "I think we have to assume that they were able to cast those spells. It's possible and even likely that the defences grew with age, but to assume that they completely trusted in secrecy and the wyvern to stop escapes seems too optimistic."

"I agree," he told her. "The witch we found had to have a reason to stay on the island instead of risking to flee. Or she tried and was stopped."

Hermione nodded. "Underwater seems a possibility - the Bubble-Head Charm might not have been known or been common when the spells were cast - and that we can enter and leave the village while swimming underwater certainly is a point in favour of that assumption. As is the fact that the wyvern hunted fish or aquatic mammals in the sea. And yet…" She trailed off.

"It's too obvious as well," Harry finished for her. "Not too unlikely, but not my first choice. And stowing away on the pirate ship itself has us facing a furry little problem first. We could deal with that, but not knowing when they will sail, we would have to rescue the girl, then hide on the ship and hope that they leave the island even though they haven't found the girl yet."

"And that they don't have a way to track the girl," she added.

"They couldn't track the French witch," he pointed out.

"But that was years ago. They might have changed their modus operandi in response to that."

"You've been watching crime dramas, haven't you?" He grinned at her.

"I've been reading the classics," she replied. "But yes - we cannot use the pirate ship and rescue the girl, so that's not a suitable escape plan." She sighed. "And having to save the girl, first, means limiting our options to sneak away - we have to assume they will notice a breakout soon or even immediately. Therefore, despite the risks, I think capturing a pirate is the plan with the best chances to succeed." She grimaced. "Not that the chances are great, mind you."

He nodded - that was obvious.

"We'll have to observe them longer, though - we can't just rush in and grab someone," she went on.

"Oh, yes. We wouldn't want to grab someone who is about to be thrown a surprise party," Harry replied.

She frowned. "Or fetching pumpkin juice for their dorm mates?"

He winced at the memory - that hadn't been one of his finest ideas. Getting hexed and getting detention… "Anyway, we need a way to stay closer to the village."

"I said so, didn't I?"

"Yes." He suppressed a frown. "But as I said, that's also more dangerous. We need to be ready to flee at a moment's notice. And we need to have a way to stall anyone chasing us."

She seemed to ponder this for a moment. "They don't know yet that the wyvern is dead - if we could make them think the wyvern is coming, then that should at least distract them."

"Yes. But how? There's only the cadaver left." And he wasn't about to dig it up.

"Can you imitate its roar with your ventriloquism spell? Combined with an Amplifying Charm, it might be enough."

"Imitating the wyvern?" He narrowed his eyes. He had heard the scream often enough, but to reproduce it… "Not perfectly. It wouldn't fool anyone who is familiar with the wyvern. On the other hand, if they're stressed and suddenly hear a monster roaring at them from behind them…"

"They might not be familiar with the wyvern's roar, either," she pointed out. "I doubt that they took tours to its lair - or had it visit the village."

He snorted. "Right. That won't stop them for long. But it might give us the edge to disable them in a fight."

"They're pirates," she said. "Not students. They'll have experience in fighting."

"We're Hogwarts students," he retorted. "And I'm a decent duellist." Sirius had told him so, and he had sparred with Dad as well. And Hermione wasn't quite as good as he was, but she was decent in a fight.

"And they're a pirate group." She didn't sneer at him, but she sounded as if she did.

"Well, they wouldn't come at us with all of them. They'll have civilians - fishermen, cooks, families," he told her. "But yes - we'll have to expect them to outnumber us. So… we need an equaliser." That's what Uncle Peter called it. "Like traps."

"I doubt that they will walk into the sort of traps we prepared for the wyvern," she said.

"No. But we both have prepared traps for people before, haven't we?" He grinned.

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she nodded. "But the sort of traps we used won't cut it. We need traps that will take them out."

He nodded as well. "If you hit anyone with the Sandpaper Hex, I doubt that they'll fight on."

"It's just a hex. We need curses that they can't easily counter, not schoolyard hexes." She looked directly at him. "I suppose you've been taught such spells."

Harry couldn't help feeling a little concerned when he saw her expression. What exactly had she learned, other than the spells he had seen so far? But she was correct. "Most of the curses I know aren't meant for traps." Sirius had said Mum and Dad didn't want Harry to produce cursed items that someone could stumble over.

"But you know some that can be used to trap someone."

"Well, yeah. You too, I assume."

She nodded. "But they're not exactly legal."

"My lips are sealed," he told her, grinning.

"Literally, if needed."

Yeah, definitely concerned.

*****​

Hermione Granger looked at the map. It wasn't really precise enough to show important details, but it helped her visualise the area near the village. "We can't create a shelter like this," she said. "So close to the village, the danger of them stumbling on us is too great." The shelter was only decently hidden from the air, not on the ground."

"We don't need such a shelter," Harry said. "Just a safe spot to sleep and rest. And it doesn't have to withstand a wyvern attack, either."

"Yes." She nodded in agreement. "We need no more space than a small tent - we don't need to be able to stand in it, either. But we won't be able to cook anything."

"Grill, you mean." He grinned.

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "So… enough space for two people to lie down next to each other. With an entrance that's easy to hide."

"A hole in the ground." He smiled as if this was funny.

Well, she wouldn't joke about this. This was serious. "Yes. Although we need to be prepared to deal with heavy rain - we wouldn't want to end up in a hole full of water."

"Digging a drain?"

"Outside, yes. Inside would be too difficult unless we find a location that's elevated above the ground. Which would likely be harder to hide." She looked around. "We'll have to abandon the shelter and take everything we need with us."

"Might as well demolish it," he said. "In case they find it before we leave the island."

She shook her head. "They aren't even searching for us, and as long as they think the wyvern is still alive, they won't just enter its former territory. And we might need the shelter again." The odds for that were very low, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He slowly nodded. "Alright. But before we go, let's go catch more fish. Grilled, it'll keep a little, so we won't have to go back to Coconut food right away."

She nodded, suppressing the urge to shudder. She was really sick of coconuts.

*****​

"Accio blue fish."

A blue fish flew through the air and landed in the sand next to the palm tree Hermione Granger was hiding behind. She quickly stunned it.

Harry was already raising his wand again. "Accio grey fish."

Another fish, another Stunning Charm.

"Accio tuna."

A tuna? Hermione whipped her head around. How had Harry found one, and why did he think summoning a fish that size would be...

The fish that landed in the sand wasn't tuna. Just another tropical fish.

Harry grinned widely at her. "It's an old duellist trick: Say one spell and cast a different one silently. Only fools the inexperienced, of course."

Very funny. "Technically, you didn't cast a different spell - you cast the same spell with a different target."

His grin slipped for a moment, then it returned, albeit a little less pronounced. "The principle is the same."

"Certainly." She made a point of sounding as sweet as she could, then grinned when he frowned. Showing off and trying to make me look stupid, will you?

Two more fishes followed - one of them flew almost half a minute through the air; it must have been quite far out.

"You know, we can do the same at our new hideout," Harry said as she stunned the last one. "Look for fishes and then summon them."

"As long as you don't make them fly through the air where anyone is watching," she retorted. "The last one was far out."

He frowned again. "They shouldn't be able to spot a flying fish at night."

"'Shouldn't'."

He gave her a look, but she ignored it. "Let's hurry up - we need to grill all of them so they will at least keep a little."

He sighed but agreed.

*****​

"I'm getting used to this," Hermione Granger said as they touched down in the now familiar patch of jungle at the base of the peninsula shielding the pirate village. Her thighs had weathered the trip pretty well. They still hurt, but not as much as they used to.

"That's great!" Harry beamed at her as he dismounted.

"No, it's not," she told him. "I don't want to get used to being stranded."

He snorted. "But it'll mean you'll be able to enjoy Quidditch once we're home."

"Did you honestly think that the only thing that kept me from being a Quidditch fanatic was my thighs hurting after using a broom?"

He looked at her as if she were talking gibberish. "What else could be the reason?" And just when she inhaled to explain to him in detail everything that was wrong about Quidditch, he started laughing.

She shook her head, but she couldn't help smiling as well. "Let's find a nice spot for our new home. And with 'nice' I mean 'hidden as well as possible'."

"Already found one."

What?

Harry was pointing at a… you couldn't call it a hill. More like an oversized overgrown molehill. The ground rose about two feet above the rest of the area. "Should keep us dry as well - if we shape the entrance so the water flows around it, and there are bushes to conceal the opening."

She made a noncommittal sound and walked over to the area to take a closer look. Although it seemed as if Harry was correct - the location did look quite suitable for a small shelter. "Yes."

He beamed at her. "See?"

This time, she rolled her eyes. "Let's start digging. We want to be settled as soon as possible."

She pointed her wand at the slight slope and cast her first Vanishing Spell. Soon, there was a hole, a little more than two yards long, about five foot wide and about two foot high, with the walls, ceiling and ground transfigured into stone.

"Isn't it a little small?" Harry asked.

It was her turn to frown. "I've slept in tents smaller than this. We shouldn't need more space - it's not as if we have a lot of luggage," she added, with a pointed glance at their two robes filled with grass and the containers and cutlery they had taken with them, mostly filled with fish.

"Yes, but… It seems a little tight for two."

"There's plenty of room for two sleeping bags," she told him. "And headspace for our tools and containers." Which they could shrink or stick to the walls, anyway.

Harry still didn't look convinced.

"Come on, let's get the mattresses and sleeping bags set up! You'll see, it works perfectly fine." She had calculated the needed space, after all.

"If you say so…"

What was wrong with him? She wasn't even showing off - the shelter had been much more impressive! This was just a hole in the ground. Literally.

And she was correct - the hole fit two improvised sleeping bags with integrated mattresses perfectly. "Now all we need is a lid for the entrance that lets us breathe." Bubble-Head Charms would negate the need for airflow, but even though she trusted her skill at casting the charm, the idea that it was the only thing keeping her from suffocating in her sleep was too unsettling to use it. Except for dire circumstances, of course.

Circumstances in which, judging by the luck they had so far, they might find themselves in the near future.

Hermione tried to push the unsettling thought away as she prepared her sleeping bag.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

I half-expected that somewhere in the following conversation Hermione would ask, with complete sincerity, if being Stunned unconscious would give the same benefits as natural rest/sleep.

Click to shrink...

I would say that she already researched that as soon as she learned the Stunner

 

[Hermione Potter-Weasley]

And she was correct - the hole fit two improvised sleeping bags with integrated mattresses perfectly.

Click to shrink...

So not enough space for extra person, right?

 

[Starfox5]

So not enough space for extra person, right?

Click to shrink...

Yes.

 

[Beyogi]

I'm following Harry here. Why make the new shelter so small?

 

[Baked the Author]

I'm following Harry here. Why make the new shelter so small?

Click to shrink...

While I agree that it's not very efficient, two points.

One, its small size also makes it harder to spot.
Two, with how much tension has built up in this story, I'm not gonna question it and let the story go where it goes.

By the way, loving this so far, OP.

 

[Starfox5]

I'm following Harry here. Why make the new shelter so small?

Click to shrink...

Well, the smaller it is, the easier it is to create and hide.They can't just burrow through bedrock with their spells, so they can't just build a larger shelter there - they'd have to look for a better spot for one of those.

While I agree that it's not very efficient, two points.

One, its small size also makes it harder to spot.
Two, with how much tension has built up in this story, I'm not gonna question it and let the story go where it goes.

By the way, loving this so far, OP.

Click to shrink...

Thanks!

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 20: The Observation

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 15th, 1996

"Hello, Ron."

Ron Weasley could tell that something good had happened the moment he stepped out of the fireplace in Harry's home. Mrs Potter was smiling. It was a smile with too many teeth showing - the witch was quite scary sometimes - but it was a smile. "Did you find Harry?" he blurted out and regretted it at once.

The smile vanished. Harry's mum sighed. "No. But we knew where the Portkey came from, originally."

"Oh?" Ron's eyes widened. That was very good news. But would she tell him? He tried to smile reassuringly.

After a moment, she sighed. "Don't tell this to anyone, but it belonged to the Averys; one of their ancestors was a pirate - that's on record, actually - and it seems that they didn't quite break with that particular tradition after the Statute of Secrecy was implemented."

"The Averys?" Ron resisted the urge to whistle. That was an Old Family. Old and rich.

"Yes. One of their members made quite a profit dealing with the Barbary Coast pirates," Mrs Potter went on. "Officially, or at least that's what the current head of the family claims, it was to ransom captured British wizards and witches."

"He got a commission for freeing slaves?" Ron asked. That was… well, not very noble, but understandable.

Harry's mum looked surprised. "That's what the Averys claim, at least."

"You think they dealt with slaves," Ron said.

Mrs Potter was definitely surprised.

Ron suppressed a frown - he might not be Bill or Percy, but he wasn't stupid. "My brother's working for Gringotts in Egypt," he explained. "He told me about the pirates and how they have many more supporters than anyone wants to admit officially."

She nodded. "Right. Either way, the Portkey led to one of their hidden bases. That much we gleaned from the records they handed over."

"One of their hidden bases." Ron pressed his lips together. That meant there were several such bases. And all of them hidden.

"It fits. It explains why we can't find Harry with our spells."

"Even Dumbledore's spells?" The Headmaster had forced the Ottoman Empire to outlaw the slave raids, after all.

"Even his, yes." Mrs Potter sighed. "It must be an old base - probably an island hidden even before the Statute of Secrecy."

That would mean… Ron whistled. "The wards on it…"

"Yes." Mrs Potter frowned. "But with this information, we can search for the island."

"If Avery had a Portkey, didn't he know where the island was?" Ron wrinkled his nose. One thing Dad had taught him and his siblings was to never use a Portkey if you didn't know its destination.

"Unfortunately, he only ever used a Portkey to visit - and return. Or so the records claim." Mrs Potter waved at the door to the kitchen. "Do you want some pumpkin juice? I just made some."

"Thank you!"

They moved to the kitchen. "The others are out, looking into people who have ties to this…" She scowled fiercely as she filled a glass for Ron. "...despicable 'business'. It should've been stopped long ago, but the ICW wouldn't condone the sort of prolonged campaign it would take to wipe out the slavers. Slavery's legal in too many countries."

And now she sounded like Granger when she was about to rant about something. Ron tried to head off the rant. "So… you need to find a pirate? Or someone who deals with pirates? There are people who handle the ransom as go-betweens, right?" Ron knew that captured witches and wizards were being ransomed, so someone had to handle the negotiations.

"We need to find a trustworthy wizard or witch, and those aren't exactly common in that… trade." She spat the last word.

"And then you'll ransom Harry? And Hermione?" Ron asked.

"That's one possible plan." Mrs Potter took a sip from a cup of tea she must have prepared before Ron arrived.

He frowned but hid it with a sip from his glass. The juice was nice - fresh and cold.

"The pirates should have contacted us already if they had captured Harry and Hermione and wanted to ransom them."

Ron drew a breath through clenched teeth as he felt his stomach drop. "You don't think that they want to ransom them." Harry. And Hermione. Bloody hell!

"Harry's a little too old to be turned into a loyal Janissary. But people know that we're friends of Dumbledore, and anyone who wanted to put pressure on him - or hurt him - could do worse than using Harry. And Hermione…" She trailed off.

Ron nodded. Bill had told him about that as well - when he had told Ginny why she had to avoid certain locations. Witches from poor families tended to not get ransomed. "I can write to Bill and ask if he knows anyone," he offered. It was the least he could do to help his best friend. And his girlfriend's best friend. If only he could do more!

She smiled at him, genuinely now. "Thank you."

*****​

Unknown Island, July 15th, 1996

"Oh, Harry!"

"Oh, Hermione!

He was hugging her - no, this wasn't 'hugging'; he was embracing her. And they were kissing. French kissing. On a soft bed. Naked. And her hands were… and his hands were… Oh, yes!

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being close to her. Being with her. Doing…

Harry Potter woke up and groaned. He had dreamt of Hermione. Again. And a very vivid dream - so vivid, he could still feel her arms around him, her chest pressing into… Wait!

He looked down and froze. Even in the dim light that the air holes in the lid let through, he saw a bushy mane on his chest. Felt her head resting on his pecs. Felt and heard her breathing. Felt her moving as she shifted in his arms, moaning a little as she… was she drooling on him?

And felt something else. He had to get up - no, get out of here! Before she woke up and realised that she was rubbing herself over him. He tried to move, to slide out from beneath her, but she had an arm draped around his neck, which tightened its grip, and her legs were clamped around his left leg. Trying to move just… made things worse. Much worse.

How had this happened, anyway? They had been both in their robes-turned-sleeping bags when they had gone to bed. But during the night, they must have crawled out of them - or peeled them away. Yes, he remembered being hot, and then… cold? Before he felt warm again.

Oh, bloody hell.

Hermione didn't sleep in the nude. Fortunately not, he firmly told himself - even though a part of him was disappointed. But she obviously didn't sleep with too many clothes on, either, and he really needed to get untangled before she woke up.

"Oh, Harry!"

Her grip tightened. And she was definitely drooling on his chest.

A moan followed. The sort of moan that he only had heard in movies before.

Could he fake being asleep? Make her think she woke up first, and pull back? That might work.

Hermione shifted - and now was on top of him. Completely on top of him. Her hair was in his face. And her… He gasped. "Hermione!" he hissed.

Another groan, then her mane moved as she lifted her head and blinked at him. "Harry?"

"In the flesh," he quipped before he could control himself.

Her half-lidded eyes shot open, and he felt her take a deep breath as she gaped at him.

"And you're, ah…" He trailed off and looked down - and up at once. At her face.

She seemed frozen for another moment, then gasped once more and scrambled off him, her knee burying itself in his stomach in the process.

"Ow!" he complained, then pressed his lips together. Their hideout was very well hidden, but if anyone was nearby and heard them...

"Ow!"

She was rubbing her head - she must have hit it on the ceiling. "What did…?"

Harry quickly started talking. "I woke up with you using me as a pillow. And before I could extract myself, you latched onto me like… like a vice. And then you shifted to use me as a… mattress."

"But… we were in sleeping bags!" she protested - after pulling her bag up to wrap around herself.

"We were, yes," he said - after following her example to cover himself. "But it must have been so hot, we slipped out of them, and then when we grew cold…"

"...we latched onto each other to share the body heat." She nodded - jerkily, though.

"Yes," he agreed.

For another long moment, none of them said anything. "We should have a guard again," Harry said. "We're closer to the village." Then such a thing wouldn't happen again.

"We're also better hidden - with the bushes stuck to the lid, the entrance is perfectly covered," she protested. "And if one of us is keeping watch, we'll have less time for working on rescuing the girl and preparing our escape."

That was a good argument, but… He nodded. "Alright. But we need to…"

"Yes." She nodded again. "Now, let's check if we're safe."

She turned and crawled to the entrance, then peered outside through one of the bigger holes. "I can't see anyone."

He joined her. "I don't see anyone, either. And the traps we left are undisturbed." They would've heard if anyone stumbled into the tripwires.

"It should be safe, then," she said.

"Yes."

They still waited a few more seconds before pushing the lid open and scrambling outside.

Then they hastily dressed and ate a silent breakfast.

And Harry tried not to stare at Hermione. Or to recall his dream. And not-dream.

He wasn't particularly successful.

*****​

Dear Lord, this was the worst embarrassment of her life! Hermione Granger was certain. Not even the time when she'd been hexed to think that she had lost her clothes during dinner in the Great Hall could compare. She'd woken up straddling Harry!

And the dream she'd had… She suppressed a shudder. Or shiver. A dream straight out of those robe-ripper books. Or worse. But the dream she could've handled. Dreams were normal. People dreamt all the time, even though they didn't always remember their dreams. And carnal dreams were perfectly normal for teenagers struggling with puberty and all those hormones.

Unless they started to sleepwalk while dreaming. Or sleep… whatever you called it when you crawled out of your sleeping bag and latched onto the boy next to you while dreaming about sex. With that boy. And doing it in a less than perfectly clothed state.

Merlin's beard, she might have molested Harry! She had shown the self-control of… it was hard to find a comparison that didn't invoke sexist prejudices based on double standards of the worst sort.

Sitting cross-legged and properly dressed at the entrance of their hideout, next to Harry, she chewed on another bite of coconut meat, more to occupy her mouth than because she was hungry. Dear Lord - had she kissed him in her dream? Well, she had kissed him in her dream. Repeatedly. But had she kissed him while dreaming? She couldn't remember. And she couldn't ask him. That would be even more embarrassing. Even though the thought of kissing him was quite...

She almost shook her head. Enough of those thoughts! No, the best - or least humiliating - course of action was to put this behind her and focus on their escape plans. And not on Harry's thighs, or abs, or… She bit down on her lower lip before she lost control and snapped at him for not wearing robes.

Hermione really hated her hormones. And pointedly didn't glance at Harry. Or try to shift her position so her knee would touch his thigh. Or whatever other silly thought entered her obviously hormone-addled brain.

At least Harry wasn't making fun of her. That would've been the worst. Getting mocked for having a perfectly normal dream and some unusual, stress-induced sleepwalking. And by the apparent target of her subconsciousness. That would hurt too much.

Though his good behaviour was perplexing. And more than a little suspicious. Why wouldn't he comment on the… incident? He usually didn't shy away from teasing her. And she doubted that her lapse had embarrassed him - this was what boys dreamt of, after all: a girl throwing herself at them. Or a boy, depending on their preferences.

Well, she added, frowning, in such dreams, it was usually a very attractive girl. A movie star. Or a singer. Or, in Harry's case, probably a Quidditch star. Not a girl like herself.

This wasn't self-deprecation. Hermione knew she wasn't ugly. She was fit, and with her teeth having been corrected, calling herself pretty was merely an objective statement of fact. And the vast majority of boys weren't too picky, she added to herself, when it came to girls.

But there were prettier girls at Hogwarts. More developed girls. More attractive witches. Lavender was, Hermione had to admit, prettier. And more developed. Slightly more developed. Of course, not everyone preferred overly large… whatever. Harry might prefer more athletic girls. Not that Hermione was overly athletic, either, compared to the Quidditch players. Not that it mattered, anyway. This was merely stress. Stress, hormones, isolation. Developing a purely physical attraction was perfectly normal in such a situation.

As was, her traitorous mind added, acting on such an attraction to relieve said stress. Natural even.

She buried that thought. This wasn't the time nor place for that. Even though part of her wanted to do it. Very much. But she wouldn't do it. And she certainly wouldn't ask Harry to… do it. What if he turned her down? What if he agreed?

Hermione finished the last of her breakfast coconut slice and vanished the shell. "So."

"So," Harry quickly repeated.

She glanced at him, and he looked away. She sighed. "We need to plan our next step."

"Yes."

He wasn't looking at her, she noticed. She pressed her lips together. Was he embarrassed? And why? Apart from the obvious, of course. But Harry had never struck her as being particularly vulnerable to embarrassment. So why would he react like that?

She shook her head. This wasn't the time to ponder this… fancy.

"We need to find out if we can create a hidden observation post on the peninsula," he said.

"If they have covered the peninsula with spells, we'll alert them to our presence," she pointed out.

"We already visited the peninsula," he retorted

"We did, yes, but it was the part that's right next to the village," she countered. "It might have been inside the hypothetical wards." Hypothetical, but based on solid deductions.

"So, we need to stay close to the village, then. Yet hidden so well, they won't spot us."

"That would be ideal," she said.

And probably impossible.

*****​

More swimming. Harry Potter shouldn't have minded - it was the only way to safely enter the village that they had discovered so far, and it wasn't too far to swim - but swimming meant they would have to strip down to their underwear.

And Harry really could do without yet another reminder of how Hermione looked without most of her clothes on. Especially if he was only wearing his pants. He thought about wearing his slacks, but… Not only would they slow him down in the water, but Hermione would wonder why he suddenly wanted to wear long trousers, and the last thing Harry wanted was to draw attention to the reason he wanted to wear trousers in the first place.

Hermione would never let him forget it. He could explain away the morning as the result of some dream, but twice? She'd notice. She'd rub it into his face. Taunt him. Lord it over him. Wouldn't that be her ultimate triumph? Harry being attracted to her? She would be able to make him look like a little boy who was teasing a girl he had a crush on because he couldn't handle his feelings. It would be the worst.

Though the other possible outcomes wouldn't be much better. He could hear her explain, in that lecturing voice of hers, that this was just stress. And hormones. Nothing serious. Just biology in action or something. Like she had before, when they had kissed in the heat of the moment after the wyvern's death. Only this time, it wouldn't be a mutual lapse - it would be his alone.

Damn, just imagining this made him angry. He could deal with a needling Hermione, he could deal with her slinging hexes his way, but… condescending? Dismissing him like that?

He clenched his teeth. He didn't want this... either of this.

He kicked his shoes off and shrunk them. After casting a Mending Charm, of course - they had to take care of their shoes; wandering around barefoot on the island wouldn't be nice.

He glanced at her, to check if she was ready to swim, and had to stifle a gasp. While he had been… thinking, she had stripped down to her underwear already and was leaning against the closest palm tree, looking at the sea. And doing some stretching exercises or whatever. He stared at her legs as she bent and stretched, and at her back and... She had to be aware of his reaction to her! There was no way this wasn't deliberate! She was posing. Like in some swimwear catalogue or something.

And… Damn. He turned away and pretended to rearrange the foliage stuck to the lid concealing their hideout. What was her game? Was she trying to… tease him? Or was he reading too much into this? But this wasn't a Slytherin girl always smiling at him when she saw him; this was Hermione Granger.

If he misinterpreted her actions, the consequences would be much worse than simply being turned down when asking for a date.

Although being turned down by her wouldn't be nice either. Not at all. The thought of it made him angry again. And slightly anxious.

Well, it wasn't as if he could ask her for a date, anyway. 'Hey, Hermione! Want to go to the pirate village together? Have tea at the tavern before we take a boat out for a spin?' He snorted at the stupid fantasy.

"Is something wrong?"

He looked over his shoulder. She was standing by the palm tree, hands on her hip, frowning at him.

He forced himself to look at her face and shook his head. "No, just checking the lid. We don't want a snake or scorpion to sneak in while we're off to spy on the pirates, do we?"

She grimaced. "I don't want a snake or a scorpion - or any potential venomous animal - to sneak into our hideout even when we're present. Especially if we're present."

That was a safe topic. He nodded. "You wouldn't know an anti-vermin charm?" Asking her about spells was a good idea.

But she scowled. "No. I didn't see the need for one."

"I should've pranked you with a couple of animated cockroach clusters," he said, chuckling. "Then you'd have all those spells."

She frowned for a moment longer, then nodded with a chuckle of her own. "Probably yes. But don't take that as an invitation to try it."

He put his hand on his chest. "Perish the thought!" Of course he wouldn't try such a stunt.

That would make her hate him again.

He blinked. Oh, damn. That was it.

He had fallen for her.

*****​

Harry was acting oddly, Hermione Granger noted. One moment, he was joking and chuckling. The next moment, he looked like he had suddenly remembered something awful. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "I'm just sick of coconut meat." He grimaced. "We should summon some fish on the way back. Or before we go."

"And have them spoil while we're away? Or attract scavengers? Or both?" She rolled her eyes. "If you're so desperate for fish, then we should capture some now, then cook and eat them before we head out."

"No, no, let's go explore the peninsula now."

"We won't make landfall, anyway. Not during the day; we're just studying the peninsula from afar," she pointed out.

"Still, let's go." He stood and marched towards the beach.

For a moment, she thought he'd walk straight into the surf, but he stopped at the treeline and eyed the ridge hiding the village from view. Good.

She moved up to him and looked at the sky, then at the jungle at the base of the ridge. "I don't see anyone," she said.

"I don't see anyone either."

Of course, that didn't mean anything. A wizard could have disillusioned himself and be standing on top of the ridge, and they wouldn't see him. And the Human-presence-revealing Charm wouldn't reach that far either.

On the other hand, as long as the pirates didn't suspect that they weren't alone on the island any more, they shouldn't post such guards.

She still picked a spot where they could enter the water behind a big rock - and they took care to dash across the open beach as quickly as possible. Sure, human eyes reacted to movement - but they also reacted to human figures on the beach.

After catching their breaths and erasing their tracks, they slipped into the surf and quickly swam closer to the ridge, so they could look for a good spot to land. It was harder than she had thought - this side of the peninsula was covered with large rocks. With sharp edges, too - she almost cut herself when she tried to climb one.

"So much for wind and water wearing the rocks down," she muttered.

"Well, if we want to use this route, we'll have to use a broom," Harry said. "A levitated plank," he added before she could correct him. "But I don't see a good hiding spot, anyway. We'd be exposed on the ridge."

Which meant they had to enter the port now, to check the other side. "Alright."

They swam quickly around the tip of the peninsula, then dived and entered the cove proper underwater. Resurfacing in the middle of the port - although far from the ship - was still nerve-wracking. If anyone spotted them… But it seemed that no one paid attention to the sea. Not in the middle of the day - she could see several people resting in the shade.

"What are they doing?" Harry asked.

"Probably chatting. Playing games. Smoking," she replied. "I don't see anyone on this side, either."

"Yes. But I also can't see any good hiding spots," Harry said in a low voice. "It's all bare rocks and earth, and a few palm trees lower down."

She had expected that - she had taken a look when they had first entered the port - but it had been a quick one, and she hadn't trusted her own memory. "So… we'll need to be closer, then. Or in the jungle."

"Which is probably better defended."

"Yes." She sighed. "We should…"

"Shh!" he snapped.

"What?" What was he doing?

"Someone's at the middle fishing boat."

"Oh." She narrowed her eyes but could only make out a figure working on one of the smaller boats. "Perhaps our luck finally changed, and we can see if they use the boats outside the cove right now?"

"Perhaps." Harry's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes." She smiled - the figure was floating the boat into the water! "This is…" she gasped. "...awful! He'll sail straight towards us!" And with the water being as crystal-clear as in the worst tourist advertising shots, the man in the boat could see down to the ground here.

"Move!" Harry snapped. "We need to swim back to the tip!"

Hermione was already diving. And swimming as fast as she could. Damn! She should've realised that this was a problem much sooner!

Harry tailed her, she saw when she caught a glimpse of the water behind her. If he tried to act all noble and self-sacrificing, she'd hex him herself!

She reached the shore - but she didn't leave the water or go too close, of course - and resurfaced to take a look. The boat was already in the middle of the port and didn't seem to be slowing down. She couldn't see oars or a sail, either - so it would be moved by magic. Which would be a problem for them if they stole the boat. Although muggle methods should work, still - at least the boat had a mast.

"Let's move behind the peninsula," Harry said.

"But we can observe the boat from here!" she protested. That was why they had come here in the first place!

"And we can't let anyone spot us!" he retorted. "Move!"

"It's a calculated risk." Behind the peninsula, they would be too far away.

"No. Let's go." After a moment, he added. "It might sail our way."

She looked at him, then at the boat. Was it angled towards them? Cursing, she dived again.

*****​

Harry Potter clenched his teeth as he followed Hermione down to the seabed. At least she had finally seen reason - he had been about to stun her and drag her down, and damn the consequences! After all her lectures about being cautious, she suddenly acted like this?

He scoffed at the thought. Next time she complained about a little risk, he'd remind her of this.

Then he had to focus on swimming underwater - he'd almost lost sight of her. The water was clear, but the seabed was covered with plants. Kelp, He thought - it looked like a forest up close.

A dense forest - as he swam after Hermione, the plants brushing over his legs reminded him of that incident with Devil's Snare in second year.

Where was Hermione going - swimming? That wasn't the direction of the peninsula's tip - she was headed straight out to sea. Just as he was about to speed up and grab her leg, she veered off and turned back towards their goal. Good.

And she was swimming towards the surface. Not so good. Still, they should be far enough now…

He resurfaced next to her and looked towards the coven. The fishing boat was just leaving the port. Too close for his comfort, but with the waves, they wouldn't be spotted easily. Still...

He grabbed Hermione's shoulder and pulled her close to him. "Let's swim closer to the peninsula." They would be harder to see against the rocks and sandy earth there.

"Alright."

Half a minute later, they were treading water in front of a big, jagged rock and watched the fishing boat sail out to sea.

"The boat's not stopping," she said.

"Yes." It looked like that, at least. Harry held his breath. The further the boat sailed, the lower the chance that it was still within the wards on the islands - the bigger the area you needed to be protected, the harder the spell was. Usually. Of course, using the Dark Arts, you could cheat there. But it required sacrifices. And worse. Uncle Peter had told him a few stories...

And the fishing boat kept sailing on until they had trouble spotting it amidst the waves.

"Ah, damn!" he cursed. "If we had been close enough, we might have boarded it. Stun the pirate, take over and just keep sailing…"

"We can't leave without the prisoner," she said.

"Right. Of course." He had almost forgotten the girl. They could've called for help, then returned for her, of course - if he managed to find the island again. Which was doubtful according to what he had been told about such spells. "But we now know how to escape the island's wards."

"We still don't know if the boat's enchanted or if the sailor has a key or something similar."

Harry grinned. "That doesn't matter - we'll kidnap a sailor!"

"A fisherman, you mean," she retorted. "A sailor might not know how to use the boat."

What? But pirates were… Oh. "You think only a few people can use the boats?"

"They might be private property and charmed against being used by others," she said.

"That could be possible. So, we need to see who is using the boat." He suppressed a sigh.

"That means we need to get closer to the boat when it returns." She wasn't quite gloating, but she was definitely grinning, even if it was rather grim.

"If we can see them, they can see us," he reminded her. "And there's not much cover here in the sea."

"Then we have to create some cover. I've mentioned a driftwood observation post before, I believe."

She had, indeed. He raised his wand. "Accio Driftwood!"

"What?" She turned around to look at the beach. And at the rapidly approaching chunk of wood. "If that hits me, I'll hex you."

It didn't hit her, of course - he has mastered the spell, after all. But it splashed her, and despite her Bubble-Head Charm, he heard her gasp when the water hit her.

Harry didn't chuckle. But he grinned behind her back when she went and started turning the driftwood into a floating 'observation post'. Which basically just involved cutting slits into the wood so they could hide their heads behind it and still see what was going on.

"And what do we do if the fisherman thinks the driftwood would make for firewood? Or a target dummy?" she asked.

"Then we move straight to kidnapping him," Harry replied. They wouldn't be able to save the girl then - unless they could use the prisoner to return with help. It wasn't a good plan, but it was the best they could do, should the fisherman spot them.

Apparently, Hermione shared his thoughts since she nodded without questioning his plan any further.

And once they had the floating cover ready, all that was left was the waiting.

Which, Harry soon found out, was the worst.

*****​

"How long do fishermen stay out at sea?"

Hermione Granger didn't frown at the question. Even though she wanted to - she didn't like admitting that she didn't know the answer. Any answer. Ignorance was a weakness. "There's no standard time," she said. "It depends on the individual fisherman. If it's more of a hobby, then I think they'll be back in before the evening. If they fish for a living, they might only return once they have their quota. Or the weather changes."

"So, you don't know?"

She clenched her teeth. That was typical for Harry - he was always pushing her buttons. "As I said," she replied in a slightly clipped tone, "it's not possible to tell without information we aren't privy to."

"So, we might have to stay in the water for hours? More hours?"

"Yes." That should have been obvious - and wasn't that what they had planned, anyway?

"That won't be good for our skin."

"We'll survive." At least she thought so. Permanent immersion in water wouldn't be healthy, but a few hours was perfectly fine - people did that regularly in extreme sports.

"Do you know a spell to, ah, unwrinkle skin?"

"I haven't had the need to deal with wrinkles yet," she told him. And she wouldn't have for a long time! "How old do you think I am, anyway?"

"Ah…" He trailed off. She snorted, and he chuckled. "I didn't mean those sorts of wrinkles."

"I know."

"But you don't know when the fisherman will be back."

"No one in our position would know," she replied. "We don't have enough information to make an educated guess."

"Well, we can tell he's still fishing."

"He could also be sleeping in the boat." All they could see at this distance was the boat, occasionally.

"That would be dangerous - he could be dragged off by the currents."

"People have done more dangerous - or more stupid - things," she told him.

"Such as?" He asked in a challenging - or teasing, part of her brain supplied - tone.

"Playing Quidditch." She flashed her teeth in an obviously fake smile.

He chuckled, which surprised her - she had expected him to get riled up about the game. But then he sighed and stared at the boat again.

He had been doing this a lot, despite the distance - and his glasses weren't enchanted to grant him telescopic sight.

"We'll see him coming," she said. "He won't disappear if we blink."

"I know. But there's not much else to look at, is there?"

She felt a brief bout of annoyance for no reason but nodded - he was correct, after all. "I guess so."

They lapsed into silence again. Hermione sighed.

"You really hate not knowing something, don't you?" Harry suddenly asked.

She glanced at him. He was still looking at the fishing boat. "Who would want to be ignorant?" she shot back.

"You can't know everything - you have to accept that there'll always be things you don't know," he said.

"I may have to accept it, but I don't have to like it. And I will try my best to know everything I can." She didn't bother to hide her annoyance.

"Why? I mean… this sounds, like…"

"Like?" She glared at him - and he was meeting her eyes at least.

"Like an obsession?"

"Like Quidditch, you mean?"

"Hey!" He frowned. "No, I mean… it seems you're not just… It doesn't seem fun to you."

"It's fun," she protested.

"You're taking it a little too seriously for it to be fun," he told her.

"It's essential. I can't rely on nepotism for my career," she spat.

He sighed audibly. "That again?"

"The word you want to use is 'still'," she told him. "As a muggleborn, I'm still facing bigotry and nepotism - a decade after Voldemort's death. I still have to work twice as hard as a pureblood from the right family to achieve anything." Pretty much like being a woman in muggle Britain.

"The bigotry isn't so bad," he retorted. "There are plenty of muggleborns in the Ministry."

"And how many are department heads?" She scoffed - she had looked into the numbers after her parents had asked her. "Far fewer than you would expect based on the population. Far fewer half-bloods as well than there should be if only your talent counted. The bigotry is real."

"That's changing," he argued.

"Not nearly fast enough to matter," she said. "Not with the stranglehold the rich pureblood families have on the Ministry and Wizengamot."

"The Old Families. Not all of them are rich."

Was he trying to argue semantics now? "You think that makes it better?"

"No." He sighed. "I know that there are still bigots. Lots of them - Mum is a muggleborn as well."

"Then you shouldn't try to defend the Ministry."

"I'm not defending them. I'm just saying, it's not quite as bad as you make it out to be. We've had a muggleborn Minister already!"

"And he was cursed so he had to step down. A 'mysterious illness'. And a few years later, the Blood War broke out," she said.

"I know about that. My parents and their friends fought in it. And we won."

He would never let anyone forget that, of course. "We?" He was a baby at the time.

He frowned. "Those who opposed the Death Eaters."

"And with Voldemort and his followers dealt with, everything was fine. No need to change any of the bigoted unfair laws and traditions." She sniffed.

"Reforms take time. You can't expect things to change at the drop of a hat."

"It's taking too long," she told him. "Between the traditions, the nepotism, the unequal laws and the vast wealth the Old Families have amassed, it'll be an uphill struggle for any muggleborns for many generations to come."

"And what would you suggest?"

"Affirmative action to counterbalance the unfair advantages purebloods have," she replied at once. "Purging every law that favours purebloods. Reform the Wizengamot. Clean out the Ministry. Implement policies that will allow muggleborns - and half-bloods - to compete with established pureblood businesses. Or, at least, protect them against unfair business practises." Really, the solutions were obvious!

"It's easy to say that, but making a law that actually doesn't make things worse isn't easy," he told her. "Unintended consequences are a thing."

"There are examples of such policies."

"Muggle policies," he replied. "They can't just be copied over."

"Adapting them is easier than you make it out to be."

"Mum told me about the differences. The muggle economy runs differently. Wizarding Britain doesn't have industrialisation - that won't work with magic."

She pressed her lips together. It looked like Harry had some modicum of knowledge about politics. It was good to know he wasn't just a Quidditch player, duellist and prankster. Not that it would change anything, anyway. "The principles are the same, though," she retorted. "It's just prejudice and outright lies that enshrine the refusal to adapt muggle ideas."

"But we do adapt muggle ideas - if they work out!"

"Name an example!"

"The Hogwarts Express?"

"Oh, please! That wasn't an adaptation! That was just a Minister who liked trains and decided to steal one. Literally!" She had read all about it - the Ministry had stolen the train and used magic to cover their tracks.

"That's what an adaptation is!"

"Not at all! It's…" She blinked. "The boat's returning."

"Oh."

*****​

 

[Beyogi]

"Oh, please! That wasn't an adaptation! That was just a Minister who liked trains and decided to steal one. Literally!" She had read all about it - the Ministry had stolen the train and used magic to cover their tracks.

Click to shrink...

I mean she has a point. With the floo system trains are obsolete for personal transport.

 

[Starfox5]

I mean she has a point. With the floo system trains are obsolete for personal transport.

Click to shrink...

And the train really only serves Hogwarts, and only for the end of term trips. But she also meant that they didn't create a magical train - they stole a muggle one.

 

[Beyogi]

And the train really only serves Hogwarts, and only for the end of term trips. But she also meant that they didn't create a magical train - they stole a muggle one.

Click to shrink...

I mean they probably enchanted the fuck out of it. I don't see wizards lugging around coal and risking boiler explosions. I wouldn't be surprised if it was outright moved by magic at this point.

But yeah it's some seriously insane fancy if you think about it. Also makes me wonder if the Hogwarts express actually uses muggle rails or if they also magicked up some magic tracks for it.

 

[Starfox5]

I mean they probably enchanted the fuck out of it. I don't see wizards lugging around coal and risking boiler explosions. I wouldn't be surprised if it was outright moved by magic at this point.

But yeah it's some seriously insane fancy if you think about it. Also makes me wonder if the Hogwarts express actually uses muggle rails or if they also magicked up some magic tracks for it.

Click to shrink...

Indeed. I'm just bit taken aback that the Ministry stole the locomotive - why else would they use mass memory charms and concealment charms to "acquire" it? And since Hogsmeade woke up to a new train station, I assume they magically created at least some tracks.

 

[Beyogi]

Indeed. I'm just bit taken aback that the Ministry stole the locomotive - why else would they use mass memory charms and concealment charms to "acquire" it? And since Hogsmeade woke up to a new train station, I assume they magically created at least some tracks.

Click to shrink...

Kinda shows how awesome wizards can be if they actually try and how lazy they are most of the time. Makes me wonder if there's some story where the muggleborn just take what they learned and fuck off in the muggle-world living their own lifes as super powered people. Like I kinda wonder why that's not a thing with people just fucking off and basically living off their magic.

 

[Starfox5]

Kinda shows how awesome wizards can be if they actually try and how lazy they are most of the time. Makes me wonder if there's some story where the muggleborn just take what they learned and fuck off in the muggle-world living their own lifes as super powered people. Like I kinda wonder why that's not a thing with people just fucking off and basically living off their magic.

Click to shrink...

They'll have to be subtle and discreet, though, or they'll run afoul of the Statute of Secrecy. But it's certainly possible. I assume a number do it as well - magic would certainly facilitate living with low income, help with many arts and hobbies, and so on. But the main characters of the series generally don't fit the mould of people who would do this - they are celebrities and leaders, after all.

 

[Prince Charon]

Indeed. I'm just bit taken aback that the Ministry stole the locomotive - why else would they use mass memory charms and concealment charms to "acquire" it? And since Hogsmeade woke up to a new train station, I assume they magically created at least some tracks.

Click to shrink...

Doylistly, it could be another 'JKR did not think this through' thing, but it might actually have been completely meant to show that the Ministry has little respect for the property rights of muggles.

 

[Starfox5]

Doylistly, it could be another 'JKR did not think this through' thing, but it might actually have been completely meant to show that the Ministry has little respect for the property rights of muggles.

Click to shrink...

Hm. I can't recall right now whether or not it was in the books, or later added on Pottermore.

 

[Beyogi]

Hm. I can't recall right now whether or not it was in the books, or later added on Pottermore.

Click to shrink...

Pretty sure that's Pottermore lore, because I never heard of that before.

 

[Starfox5]

Pretty sure that's Pottermore lore, because I never heard of that before.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, it seems too detailed to be from the books.

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 21: The Slipup

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 15th, 1996

"Hello." Bill Weasley smiled as he cleaned himself of the soot a trip through the Floo Network left on his robes.

"Bonjour," Fleur added - the charms on her robes had already cleaned her, and she looked as flawless and magnificent as always. At least outside a cursed tomb or an icy lake.

"Hi, Mrs Potter!" Ron said, running his wand over his own robes.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Mrs Potter said.

"It was the least we could do," Bill told her.

Fleur nodded. "We are familiar with this… problem."

"Please have a seat," the witch pointed at the couch facing the fireplace. "Would you like some tea? Or pumpkin juice?"

For a family as famous as the Potters, their living room wasn't very grand, Bill thought as he sat down on the couch next to his wife. It felt far more like the Burrow's living room - cosy but lived in - than the perfectly decorated salons of the manors he had visited for his work.

"Pumpkin juice, please," Ron sat down in an armchair and picked up the newspaper from the stack next to it.

Well, Bill reminded himself, his youngest brother was a frequent guest here. "For me as well," he said. "Thank you."

"Do you have coffee?" Fleur asked.

"Yes."

As Mrs Potter went to the kitchen, Bill studied the room in more detail. There were lots of books lying around, lots of notes on the dining table - and the side table - and next to the bowl with the Floo powder stood an open can with more powder.

"They must have had many visitors recently," Fleur summed up his own conclusions.

"The whole Order's involved," Ron said.

"Ah." It seemed Ron was privy to more information about the entire affair than Bill had suspected after Ron had called him.

"And so are you?" Fleur asked.

Ron shrugged. "I do what I can, which isn't much."

"Well, you've done more than we have," Bill told him with a smile.

"So far," Ron replied. "I wish I could do more."

"We know." Mrs Potter returned, a tray with juice and coffee and several glasses floating next to her. "But this is a matter for the adults."

"Yes." Fleur nodded emphatically. "No child should be dealing with those despicable monsters!" Then she blinked and held a hand in front of her mouth. "I'm sorry."

Mrs Potter nodded, though her smile had slipped a little at the reminder that her son - and the other witch - were likely in the hands of Barbary Coast pirates. "I'm aware of the raids on Southern France by the pirates," she said as she filled their glasses and, in Fleur's case, cup.

"Oui," Fleur told her. "Things improved a little after the Intervention, but the raids never really stopped. And my family, the d'Aigles, are amongst the preferred targets of the Ottomans."

Both because the d'Aigles were rich and because they were Veela, Bill knew.

So did Mrs Potter, judging by her expression. "Have you suffered a kidnapping recently?"

"Ten years ago, a cousin of mine was kidnapped on a trip to Corsica," Fleur said. She tensed, Bill noticed - his wife sat perfectly straight, perfectly composed. "We paid the ransom, and she was returned to us."

"We haven't received a ransom note so far," Mrs Potter said.

That wasn't a good sign. Bill knew that the Barbary Coast pirates were usually very efficient - they wanted the ransom as soon as possible. And he doubted that anyone in the Wizarding World had missed that Harry Potter had disappeared - they would recognise him.

"Harry might've given his captors a fake name," the witch went on.

"Why would he do that?" Fleur asked, frowning.

"So he wouldn't get separated from Hermione," Mrs Potter told them.

Ron scoffed. "That would be like him."

"Ah. The muggleborn girl." Fleur nodded with a grim expression. Like many Veela, kidnapped muggleborn witches often weren't ransomed but sold into the harems of Constantinople.

"Yes."

"I've heard they don't like each other," Bill said. Which was putting it mildly - what he had heard about that particular feud…

Ron shrugged. "It's Harry."

Mrs Potter sighed. "Yes. I hope he'd be smarter than that, but…" She shrugged, and Bill heard a soft, suppressed sniffle. Then she took a deep breath. "In any case, we need to contact the Barbary Coast pirates, and Ron said you might know someone who has contacts amongst the pirates."

Bill nodded. "We know such a man. Several, actually."

"We've handled my cousin's ransom through one of them. But they work with the pirates." Fleur shook her head.

"We're aware of that," Mrs Potter told them. "But we need to know more about the pirates." She smiled, not weakly, but toothily. "And we're as willing to pay a ransom as we're willing to put a bounty on the kidnappers. Would the pirates sell out each other?"

"I believe they would," Bill replied. "At least some of them."

Fleur scoffed. "Most of them will. Pirates are scum."

Bill pressed his lips together. Most pirates were loyal to their crewmates - otherwise, they wouldn't last long. And judging by what he knew, many were quite loyal to their home as well, if not necessarily to their home country. Every pirate needed a homeport with a loyal population - and that loyalty would evaporate like water in the desert if it wasn't reciprocated.

But Fleur was very passionate about this subject, so he chose his words carefully. "Most should be willing to sell out other crews, but I think they will be more hesitant to betray those who know most about them - and their families."

Fleur shot him a glare but nodded. "Peut-être. People who sell others into slavery are the lowest of the low, but they might consider the risks too high - though a sufficiently high bounty could change that. It would certainly send a better message than paying a ransom, which only encourages more kidnappings."

Mrs Potter pressed her lips together. "That is easy to say without a child of yours in the hands of pirates."

Bill drew his breath through his clenched teeth as Fleur glared at Mrs Potter. "That's short-sighted thinking - exactly the kind of thinking that has kept the pirates an ongoing concern for centuries. If even a tenth of the gold spent on ransom had been spent on bounties, they would've been destroyed long ago, and everyone in southern Europe would've been safer."

"You don't know that. As long as there's a demand, people will try to supply it," Mrs Potter retorted.

"Unless the risk is too great." Fleur shook her head. "And paying off the vermin preying on children is not right."

"My priority is to get Harry back. And Hermione. Justice can wait until they are safe. I'm not going to risk his life just to punish some pirates." Mrs Potter's expression reminded Bill of what she was famous for - She and her husband had faced Voldemort four times, playing a crucial role in killing him at the end. He suppressed a shiver.

Fleur, though, didn't falter at all. She was too French at times. "And once your son has been released, will you pursue justice? Or will you forget about it like so many others?"

"Vengeance is a dish best served cold. Are you familiar with Caesar and the pirates?" Mrs Potter asked.

"Yes. He was ransomed and returned to hunt the pirates down and had them all executed," Fleur replied.

"Exactly. Once Harry and Hermione are safely returned, an example will be made."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Please do."

There were entirely too many teeth being shown for Bill's taste. He cleared his throat. "So… you need a contact in the Barbary Coast who is on good terms with the pirates. I think the best choice would be Basem Kateb, a merchant in Algiers."

"The man's a weasel," Fleur spat.

"But he keeps his words according to all accounts I've heard," Bill countered. And with a number of those accounts being from Gringotts, that said a lot about the man. Goblins carried grudges forever.

"And he will drain your purse like no one else," Fleur said.

Another trait that would impress goblins, Bill knew.

"Algiers." Mrs Potter nodded.

"Have you ever been to Algiers?" Bill asked.

"No."

Bill nodded. He had thought so.

"You're not going without me," Fleur hissed.

He looked at her. He had been to Algiers before - a few times. Fleur hadn't. "You're a d'Aigle," he said.

She glared at him.

"Would that be a problem?" Mrs Potter asked.

"The d'Aigles are amongst the most dedicated enemies of the Barbary Coast pirates. They've fought them for centuries," Bill explained. And since Fleur's father had risen to a high post at the court, they had used that influence to increase the efforts of the Gendarmes Magiques as well. If Fleur visited Algiers and was recognised…

"You can't go alone," Fleur spat.

"He won't," Mrs Potter said. "We've got friends with experience in this sort of ventures, if not in Algiers itself."

Ah. She had to be talking about Peter Pettigrew. The man had a reputation amongst the goblins as well - according to rumours, he was behind a few break-ins which had never been solved, and the only reason Gringotts hadn't taken measures against the spy was that this would risk exposing the fact that Gringotts wasn't quite as safe as the average wizard thought that it was.

With Pettigrew coming with Bill… well, the trip would certainly be interesting.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 15th, 1996

Harry Potter was almost glad that the fishing boat was returning. Arguing with Hermione about politics was… annoying. She was convinced that she was correct and wouldn't listen to anyone else. Well, she was like that with most subjects, actually. At least in his experience - she might listen to teachers. Might. He didn't recall, offhand, anything concrete, but he did remember that she threw herself into every argument with the same passion. And that stubborn expression that made her look so...

"It'll take it a while to reach us," Hermione whispered, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes," he replied. "So we don't need to whisper yet."

"Unless he's using a Supersensory Charm," she retorted.

"While sailing?" Harry snorted. "That would be hell on earth on the ocean."

Hermione snorted as well. "'Hell on earth on the ocean'?"

Oh. That hadn't been his best wording. "You know what I mean," he said,

"Yes. But according to what I read, it's possible to filter out background noise when you cast the spell."

He hadn't heard about anything like that. On the other hand, he had been wondering what the charm would be good for, except for working in a studio or something. "And you think a pirate will be able to do so? And do it while he's fishing? Why would he do that?"

"He could be using it to track fish. Or watch for ships," she replied. But she sounded more contrarian than convinced.

"You think he's a scout? Looking for ships to board? Or enemies to avoid?" he asked,

"It's possible, isn't it?" she told him.

"Theoretically possible," he admitted. "But is it probable?"

She pursed her lips. "It it's possible that this is a guard. Possible. Which means we shouldn't talk aloud."

She had a point. He still frowned at her, and she grinned before they watched the fishing boat approach the port in peace. "We need to drift past it as if guided by a current," he whispered.

"We need to be guided by a current," she replied. "He's a fisherman - he would notice the water acting weird."

"We can't really control the waves," he retorted. They were floating pretty much in place - but that wasn't too hard so close to the rocky peninsula.

"There should be currents we can use to float closer to the boat when it approaches."

"Do you know them?" he asked.

Her silence was telling. Then she sighed. "We'll have to use a Water-Making Spell for propulsion and hope he thinks it's just a small current."

"Have you tried that before?"

"Not in practice," she replied. "But it's the same principle that squids use to move."

They weren't squids, he knew. But they were running out of time. "Let's try it." Doing something was better than doing nothing - Harry had taken that lesson of Sirius's to heart.

"Aguamenti," he heard Hermione whisper, then their floating observation post started to move.

Harry tried to see whether or not they were standing out but couldn't tell - there wasn't enough debris. Which was a good thing, in his opinion - if their 'driftwood' was the only one to move amongst others, they'd stick out, but if it was the only one, period…? Well, in that case, it should look quite natural. Harry certainly hoped it would - he wasn't a sailor himself.

"It's working," Hermione whispered.

"Looks like it," he replied, eyes on the fishing boat now. "Slow down a little."

It felt as if they slowed down - though it was a little hard to say, so low in the water.

And there came the fishing boat. "Watch his face," Harry whispered.

"That's why we're doing this," she replied.

He didn't have to look at her to know how she would be rolling her eyes. But better safe than sorry.

The boat passed them at a distance of about ten yards. The face of the pirate was a little fuzzy. But Harry spotted a necklace - gold, or so it seemed - that caught the light of the setting sun. Quite a distinctive design.

Then the boat was gone, entering the harbour, and they started to slowly turn back.

"He had a necklace, possibly enchanted," Harry said.

"And the pattern on his vest looked like runes," Hermione added.

"They did?"

"Not the runes we learn at Hogwarts. But I read up on other magical traditions," she told him.

Of course she would have. He almost snorted. "Do you know what they do?"

"No, I didn't study those runes in detail."

And the angles would have been wrong to spot all the runes. Still, they had their target. Mission accomplished.

Now they needed to finish planning their escape.

*****​

Hermione Granger should have studied Arabian and African runes in detail instead of just reading a book about them. If she had, she would probably be able to identify the spells on the man's vests. And she might have a clue about the spells protecting the boat.

She sighed - softly. She couldn't have known that she'd need to know those runes instead of the Scandinavian runic traditions. She still felt like she had failed. Just as she had failed to learn enough useful spells. "I'll have to remedy this," she muttered.

"What did you say?" Harry asked.

"I reminded myself to enlarge my spell repertoire," she told him. "If I could cast a Disillusionment Charm, we would have a much easier time observing the pirates."

"Yes. And if we could apparate and break curses, we could easily escape the island without stealing a boat."

"Or kidnapping a pirate. Presumed pirate," she corrected herself.

"Or if we had learned to flawlessly shrink ourselves."

She rolled her eyes at that. They had already discussed the disadvantages of shrinking themselves.

"It's no worse - actually, it's safer - than trying to break through centuries-old wards."

"I didn't say anything," she told him.

"Exactly."

She glanced at him and caught him smirking. "So, every time I don't say something, I'm opposed to it?"

"I wouldn't go that far. But most of the time, probably."

She huffed. "Really."

"Yes. You like talking."

"So do you." She frowned at her own words - that had been a stupid comeback.

"I don't like lectures," he said.

"Oh, I'm aware of that. As are all the teachers, I would assume."

"Ha ha ha."

But both of them were smiling when they reached the tip of the peninsula.

"Better leave the driftwood on the rocks here," he suggested. "Less suspicious than on the beach."

She frowned. "Do you think we'll use it again?"

"Probably. It's been useful."

"They might grow suspicious if they see it appearing all over the place," she pointed out.

"Not if we limit its use."

"Still, if anyone picks it up, they'll realise it was crafted."

"Good point. Let's vanish it."

She thought about taking it back and using the wood, but… They had plenty of materials, and they were currently staying in a very small hideout, so there was neither need nor room for more furniture.

Harry vanished it, and they swam the rest of the distance back to the beach.

They ran through the surf and over the beach, hiding behind the first trees of the jungle as they erased their tracks. Then she used a Water-Making Spell to wash the salt off her skin and a cleaning charm to do the same for her hair. Which, she noted, had turned from a messy ponytail into a plain mess.

She frowned as she started taming her mane again. Harry was fine - his hair looked good even without much attention. As did the rest of him. It was almost disappointing to see him slip his trousers and shirt on. Though he looked good in those as well.

And, a traitorous part of her whispered in her mind, he looked good in his underwear, in their hideout, when she was straddling him.

"We should summon some fish."

She finished styling her hair before she replied: "Did you see one?"

"Yes."

"So?" She cocked her head. He was looking at the sea.

"I'm trying to think of a way to cook it without risking our hideout being discovered."

"Right." That meant hiding the smoke and the fire. She remembered hayboxes - but they required the food to be heated before being placed in them. "You probably need to wait until the morning and use your breeze spell to disperse the smoke."

He didn't like her answer. She could tell. "I was hoping to eat them tonight."

She shrugged. "We could create some sort of barrier that would hide the light from the fire. Bury the fire in a hole in the earth."

He smiled at her. "Can you do that?"

She had only read about it in a scout manual she had bought when she had been eight, and her parents had told her that they were going camping over the holidays. But Harry was looking at her like that, and…

...how difficult could it be to dig a hole and a small ditch to let the airflow? At least as far as she remembered, it should be easy.

So she nodded. "Yes."

*****​

Harry Potter took a deep breath and closed his eyes, sighing as the smell of grilled fish entered his nostrils. Finally, decent food. Or any sort of food that wasn't coconut.

"I'll be a little while longer," Hermione said. "The fire's not as hot as I'd like."

"No problem," he told her. A few more minutes wouldn't starve him. And he still remembered her lessons about parasites from before they grilled their first fish. Back at the shelter.

"The light pollution should be minimal," she said. "But the ditch I dug isn't ideal - there's not enough air reaching the fire."

"It's burning nicely," he said. She was just being her perfectionist self again. The fish smelt heavenly, the fire wasn't visible unless you were directly over it - and the jungle's canopy would block that as well - and the smoke was invisible at night as well.

It was the perfect setup.

He waved his wand, and a gentle breeze dispersed the smoke a little more and strengthened the airflow. Just to be safe.

"It could be better," Hermione said. In the dim light of the fire, he saw she was pursing her lips. Yes, she wasn't content with her work.

Harry shook his head. Sometimes, good enough was better than perfect. Actually, often, good enough was, well, good enough. Hermione would have to learn that before she left school, or she'd have a hard time at whatever job she ended up in. Unless she decided to follow Mum's example and became a spellcrafter. In that profession, everything needed to be perfect. Otherwise, testing a new spell could kill you. Harry knew that from the arguments he had overheard between his parents.

He sighed again, this time not because of the fish, and leaned back a little, looking around as if he was keeping an eye on their surroundings. Then he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

She didn't notice - she was staring at the fire, her wand twitching as if she was about to cast another spell at the fire to try and improve the setup. He hoped she wouldn't - her attempt to enlarge it hadn't worked too well, and the fish was almost done.

She looked eager. Focused. Sitting on her haunches, she was leaning forward a little. In the flickering light of the fire, her tanned skin looked almost exotic. And there was a lot of skin on display. Not as much as had been in the morning, of course.

Harry clenched his teeth and shifted a little. Remembering that scene wasn't very helpful right now. It was hard enough to keep from openly staring at her. Girls didn't like that. Hermione most certainly didn't like people watching her, as she had told him a number of times at Hogwarts.

Granted, back then, he had been watching her for other reasons, but still - better safe than sorry. It wouldn't do if she noticed his attention. That would be… bad. Definitely bad. They had to escape from a pirate island. After rescuing a kidnapped girl. Hermione realising that he was… interested… would complicate things. By a lot.

He closed his eyes. That didn't help, though - his memory was too good. As was his imagination. Damn.

Focus, Harry! he told himself. He stared at the fish slowly browning on the grill - made by transfiguring some twigs into metal. Focus on the food. Not on… her. And other things. Food. Just food.

"I think the fish's done now."

He blinked, turning to look at her. "What?"

She was smiling at him. "I think the fish should be good, now."

"Right." He nodded - a little jerkily.

She shifted, leaning forward, and moved her wand to levitate one piece off the grill. Towards him. "What do you think?"

Without thinking, he took a bite and chewed. "Tastes good," he told her with a grin.

She looked a little flustered, but that could've been the light from the fire playing tricks with his mind. Then she nodded, and the rest of the pieces flew up, landing softly on two transfigured coconut shell pieces serving as plates. She handed one to him, followed by their handmade cutlery.

"Thank you." He smiled at her.

"Bon appetit."

The fish tasted great. "It's true - you never appreciate what you have before you lose it," Harry said after polishing off his portion.

"Yes," she replied.

Though she sounded a little reluctant, at least that was Harry's impression. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Just thinking of home," she said, sighing and staring at the dark trees surrounding them.

He nodded. Of course she'd be thinking of home. Her family, her friends… Hogwarts.

He missed them as well. Though he couldn't help thinking that he'd also miss this. These nights at the campfire. With her. And no… distractions. "Hey." He turned to look at her. "I was wondering…"

Barking interrupted him.

Hermione gasped. "That's a dog."

His eyes widened. A dog that was close. Too close.

He whipped his head around and stared at the fireplace.

"The scent," Hermione whispered next to him.

Damn.

*****​

The scent. Hermione Granger clenched her teeth. This was all her fault - she should've realised that the scent would carry, even though the light and smoke were hidden. She had even considered the fact that the smell of food would attract predators. "I'm so stupid!" she spat.

"No, you aren't," Harry replied as he quickly vanished the fire and the remaining fish. "We both forgot this."

"But I should've known - I thought of the danger of attracting predators! And then I forgot it!"

"So did I. Now, what can we do? Is this a wild dog?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. "We haven't seen any sign of wild dogs. With the wyvern around, they might have been kept in check, but… they wouldn't be near the village, I think. We have to assume that this is a domestic dog.

She looked at the ground, then waved her wand, levitating the sods of grass she had taken away over to cover up the makeshift fireplace.

"The dog will smell us," Harry said. "They can track us anywhere on the island."

"Only if we walk on the ground," Hermione retorted. "If we fly, they won't have a track to follow."

"Good dogs would still be able to follow us," Harry insisted. "But the pirates probably don't have such dogs."

"Slavers used to have dogs trained to track humans," she pointed out.

The barking sounded closer. "We can't hide here."

"We need to return to the shelter," Harry whispered.

The dog's barking grew even louder. "Yes," she whispered back, looking at their hideout. "They'll find it."

"Can't be helped," Harry said. "Accio robes!" Their sleeping bags flew towards them.

There was more, but that was replaceable. And… She smiled. "Yes, it can!" She waved her wand and vanished the entire hideout, leaving a hole in the small mound. Then she vanished the sides to the left and right of the hole, digging deeper.

"What are you doing?"

"Covering our tracks," she hissed and kept casting. Finally, the entire side collapsed. "It might not fool them, but they won't know for certain how we hid here."

"Let's go!"

She levitated the pole he had taken out, they mounted it and sped off through the jungle. Southward. Towards their shelter.

But the dog was so close, now. It was barking so loud, and… Was that a voice giving it commands? She glanced over her shoulder, just for an instant, and gasped once more.

There was light visible through the trees. Bright light.

"Focus on steering," Harry hissed.

She did, angling the pole to fly by a tree that had grown crooked, leaning towards another. She wanted to go faster, but in the dim starlight - it was the new moon - she couldn't risk it.

"Are they chasing us?" she asked while guiding the pole between two larger trees, through some light underbrush. The foliage and branches ripped at her clothes and skin. She should've cast a Shield Charm, she realised. But she had panicked and forgot. Damn.

"I don't see any lights following us," he replied.

That was reassu… A cone of light suddenly appeared in front of them, illuminating a small clearing. Hermione pulled the pole to the left, braking so they wouldn't leave the cover of the denser brush. "They're above us!" she whispered.

"I noticed."

She resisted the urge to look behind them and guided the broom further into the underbrush, past a crooked palm tree. What spell were they using? That wasn't a Wand-Lighting Charm! It was more like a spotlight - a huge spotlight, like… "It's a naval lighting spell," she whispered. "Like a searchlight."

"Well, they're searching for us, no doubt," Harry hissed. "Keep us under cover!"

"I'm trying!" she snapped. Another tree, fallen, rose up in the darkness, and she almost tried to fly underneath it before she realised there was a boulder there and managed to fly over it.

Another cone of light shone down on the jungle, further away, though.

"They're covering the beaches," Harry said. "If we stick to the jungle, we should be fine."

As if to prove him wrong, a cone of light stabbed through the jungle to their side - not from above, but from behind.

"They are chasing us!" she snapped.

"Keep us in the underbrush!" Harry hissed back. "We have to lose them!"

"I'm trying!" she replied. But she couldn't fly too fast. Not at night going through a jungle. Even at their slower speed, crashing into a tree would hurt. And probably get them captured. If the pirates had a Supersensory Charm cast on one of them…

She swung around a thicker tree - no, two trees grown close together... that didn't matter now! She had to focus on flying. Levitating.

Clenching her teeth, panting as she steered them roughly south, she tried to focus on the flying, not the fear of what would happen should they be caught.

She almost managed it.

*****​

How had the pirates found out about them? Harry Potter couldn't think of any mistake they had made. Other than the fish. But this response… that wasn't just some pirate following a dog. Would they have started such a hunt after a dog's barking?

He felt the underbrush tear at his shirt and gritted his teeth when a branch left a scrape on his lower arm. Even at their relatively slow speed, pushing through bushes would leave marks.

Worse, though, the pirates could easily overtake them - had overtaken them; he could see one cone of light ahead of them. Flying above the trees, and using actual brooms, would allow the pirates to quickly catch up and chase them down as soon as they found them.

But if they kept going, the area the pirates had to search would widen, and they would escape. Sooner or later.

If they weren't found before. Those searching light cones came too close already. They needed a distraction.

"Keep going! I'm creating a distraction!"

"What distraction?" Hermione asked.

Right, he should probably tell her. "I'm going to reproduce the wyvern's roar."

"Oh."

He took a deep breath. He couldn't mess this up. He couldn't amplify the roar, not with his spell, so he had to make it sound as if it came from afar - from the hill.

He raised his wand, aimed at a point between the closest cone of light and the hilltop - guessing, since he couldn't see through the canopy above them and only had the searchlights and his memory as a guide - and cast.

One roar. He moved his wand and pointed it further back, to the next searchlight, and recast it.

The light cones disappeared. He heard yelling - amplified - in an unknown language. But he could tell that they sounded alarmed, even frantic, and he smiled.

They had fallen for his ruse.

"Yes!" he hissed.

"Did it work?" Hermione asked as they turned around another tree.

"I don't see the lights any more," he replied. They wouldn't risk attracting the wyvern with them.

"Let's hope they're flying back to the village," she said.

"Just keep going," he replied. They had to use this to get as much distance between them and the pirates as possible.

And they kept going.

*****​

"I think we lost them," Harry Potter said about half an hour later.

"And we're lost," Hermione replied. "I only have a vague idea where we are."

She slowed down and brought the pole to a halt.

Harry didn't know where they were, either. "We should be somewhere to the south," he said.

"Brilliant deduction. I thought we were going north."

He snorted.

After a moment, she added, in a softer voice: "But we might have circled the hill, so we could be going east right now. We'll have to check the stars to orient ourselves."

"Well, let's do that, then," Harry said.

She guided their pole upwards, and they pushed through the canopy. Slowly. And she stopped as soon as their heads cleared the foliage. "OK… based on our course, we were still going south. And the hilltop… we're roughly in the area of the shelter."

"Great!" Harry smiled. That was better than he had expected.

"Lucky." She scoffed. "Though how lucky is questionable. They'll resume their search for us soon."

"I doubt they'll do anything at night," Harry replied. "They'll have to consider the wyvern."

"Finding out that it's gone won't take them too long," Hermione said, looking around.

"Will they risk flying to its cave?" Harry didn't think so. "They can't have a spell that checks for that, or they would have known the wyvern was gone already."

"They probably have a safer way to check for its presence. Perhaps they'll drop some bait near the hilltop and look if it takes it." Hermione shook her head. "Or they checked that it was gone and then panicked when they heard it roar, thinking it had returned."

"Still, I doubt they'll do anything until tomorrow," Harry insisted. "We can rest." And they needed rest. Mostly Hermione - she had kept the Levitation Charm up until now. And steered them through the jungle.

"Rest where? The shelter?"

"If we can find it, yes," Harry told her. "It's camouflaged, isn't it?" They had designed it to hide them from flyers, after all.

"Right." She sighed. "We should be able to find it from the beach. But that might expose us."

"We'll stick to the jungle, just close enough so we can follow the beach."

"Alright."

*****​

Hermione Granger sighed with relief when she finally found the shelter - after missing it twice. At least they hadn't lost too much time - it was still dark and would stay so for a while longer.

They removed the stone blocking the entrance, then cautiously entered. "Lights should be safe," Hermione said. "The entrance should block most of it."

"OK." Harry lit his wand tip, and they quickly searched the shelter for any animals that had entered in their absence. But it seemed the rock had kept anything dangerous out.

Hermione sighed again and dropped her robes on the makeshift bed before sitting down on them. Then she hissed when her body reminded her that she had been flying on a pole for the better part of an hour. And had gone through too many bushes.

"Hermione?"

"Just dealing with some scrapes," she said.

"What?" He entered her part of the shelter, pointing his lit wand at her. And hissed.

That wasn't a good sign. "It's just some scrapes."

"That's a lot of scrapes!" he replied.

"Nothing a few healing charms won't cover." She smiled, then winced - something had hit her cheek.

"Let me!" Harry said. Before she could answer him, he had his wand pointed at her face. "Episkey!"

That felt good. She smiled - without pain this time - and lit her own wand so he could work.

"Episkey!"

"Episkey!"

"Thank you."

"We're not done yet. Episkey."

She could do it herself, actually. There wasn't a need to let him do it. But it felt nice. And not just the way her pain faded a little with each spell.

"Episkey."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shivering as the realisation hit her. They had escaped. Survived. Beaten, in a way, the pirates, without getting more than a few scrapes.

"Uh."

She opened her eyes again. Harry had finished with her stomach and was now looking at her thighs. She spread them without thinking, and he started healing the lacerations on the outside and the welts on the inside.

"Episkey."

She sighed again. That felt even better. Her muscles still hurt, a little, but the pain was all but gone now.

"Episkey."

That was a big laceration on her calf. How had she even acquired that? She hadn't noticed it.

"Episkey."

Ah.

"Uh, so…"

"Yes?"

"There's more…"

She frowned. What did he mean? Right. Some branches had torn through her top - it wasn't exactly the toughest fabric. And she needed to fix it, too.

She pulled it off, then froze when she heard him gasp. "How bad is it?"

"What? Oh, not bad, sorry. Episkey."

Ah, good. She sighed once more.

"But, ah…"

What was the problem? She glanced down and blinked. Oh. Her bra had suffered a tear as well.

She looked up and saw that he was staring.

Oh.

She should cover up. Mend her top and her bra. But Harry was so close, and he looked…

She swallowed. Damn. He wasn't wearing his shirt, she realised. Why hadn't she noticed this before? And…

She reached out with her free hand and traced a scrape on his chest. "You've been hurt as well."

"Uh… it's nothing. Episkey."

The scrape vanished under her fingers. And she left her hand resting on his chest. Wet her lips with her tongue. His skin felt hot as she slowly raised her head and met his eyes.

He was staring at her. Licking his lips. "So… Uh…"

She felt her face flush. This was so...

She rose, standing up. Standing in front of him. So close, she could feel his breath on her skin. And…

...they were kissing. Holding each other. She was moving her hands, dropping her wand. Pressing herself against him.

Things became blurry about then.

*****​

 

[Hermione Potter-Weasley]

Finally!

 

[silentorphan]

Oh. That hadn't been his best wording. "You know what I mean," he said,

"Yes. But according to what I read, it's possible to filter out background noise when you cast the spell."

He hadn't heard about anything like that. On the other hand, he had been wondering what the charm would be good for, except for working in a studio or something. "And you think a pirate will be able to do so? And do it while he's fishing?"

She had a point. But Harry wasn't going to admit it. "He could be using it to track fish. Or watch for ships."

"You think he's a scout? Looking for ships to board? Or enemies to avoid?" She seemed to be giving his off-the-cuff remark serious thought.

Well, he hadn't exactly thought the thing through, but it did make sense. A little, at least. "It's possible, isn't it?" he told her.

Click to shrink...

So the middle section is throwing me off because I couldn't tell who was voicing which lines.

I was going Harry (first line), Hermione (second line), Harry (third paragraph), Hermione (fourth paragraph)...and then Hermione again?

 

[HearthBorn]

Great update! Hopefully after the next scene (huzzah!) they remember the dogs and bloody scent trail they left on the way to their current location.

 

[Hylas_Daemonem]

Great stuff! very believable, working up the tension like that too.
I have absolutely no idea how they're going to save the captive girl tho.

 

[Beyogi]

Great stuff! very believable, working up the tension like that too.
I have absolutely no idea how they're going to save the captive girl tho.

Click to shrink...

I mean they'd need a canon level asspull to pull it off. Especially now that they lost their stealth.