Stranded (Harry Potter AU) (Complete)

[Starfox5]

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the Harry Potter books or movies.

Summary: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The star Seeker and the swotty muggleborn have been at each other's throats since their first year at Hogwarts. Their feud has cost Gryffindor more points than the Weasley twins and has now resulted in the two of them being stranded on a deserted island.

Author's Note: This story is set in an Alternate Universe. Therefore, a number of canon events in the Wizarding World didn't happen.

I'd like to thank fredfred and InquisitorCOC for beta-reading.

Cover:

Chapter 1: The Feud

Diagon Alley, London, July 6th, 1996

"Ron! There you are!"

That was Harry's voice. Ron Weasley turned and smiled at his best friend. "Mate!"

"You're late!" Harry complained, but he was smiling as he clapped Ron on the shoulder.

"Sorry," Ron said. "Mum was lecturing me about being careful and stuff." He shrugged. "You know how it goes." Even though he'd been to Diagon Alley many times before.

"Oh, yes." Harry chuckled. "Dad wanted to teach me Apparition, but Mum forbade it." He frowned. "I'll have to wait until Hogwarts."

"Me too," Ron told him. Not even his argument that they'd be able to save on Floo powder had swayed Mum. Then again, Dad had gotten a promotion, and with the twins having moved out, money wasn't tight any more.

"Well, it's not much longer until we'll finally have our freedom!" Harry grinned widely. "No more being stuck to Hogsmeade! All of Britain will be open to us - whenever we want!"

"Yeah," Ron agreed with a smile. Hogsmeade was nice, but after three years, he had seen everything there was to be seen. "And, speaking of freedom…"

"...we have the whole afternoon and money to burn!" His friend chuckled and patted the side of his robes.

Long practice kept Ron's smile from slipping. He wasn't envious of Harry's money - not really; his family wasn't rich, but they got by - but… it felt bad to freeload. Harry was generous, and it wasn't as if he was throwing around a lot of money, but… Ron had his pride. On the other hand, he also had a sweet tooth, and a girlfriend to spend his allowance on. And if he had to choose between paying his way with Harry or with Lavender, well… Harry was his best friend, but Ron wasn't snogging him.

He felt a little guilty at the thought. He wasn't just with Lavender to snog her. He liked spending time with her. She was nice, she thought Ron was great and she was never boring. The snogging didn't hurt, of course.

"So, where should we go first?" Harry asked. "Quidditch Supplies?"

"Of course!" Ron agreed at once. "They should have the new broom models on display now."

"Oh, yes!" Harry nodded eagerly. Then he frowned. "I still can't believe that Mum forbade Sirius from giving me a Firebolt for my birthday!"

This time, Ron's smile slipped a little. Harry's family was well-off. His godfather, though, was amongst the richest wizards in Britain. But a Firebolt as a birthday present? That was crazy, even for a Black. Ron chuckled anyway. "Seems your mum doesn't want you to run away - no Apparition lessons, no Firebolt… She knows you, mate," he said as they started walking.

Harry scoffed in return. "Well, she doesn't know we'll go to Muggle London after this!"

"Right." Ron thought that Mrs Potter knew - or, at least, suspected - but it wasn't as if Muggle London was dangerous. Not for two wizards who had passed their O.W.L.s. And had been there before. Hell, muggle teenagers went to London all the time!

"You did bring your muggle clothes, right?" Harry asked. Ron saw that his friend was glancing at him.

"Of course I did." T-shirt and trousers, under his robes. "Did you?" Ron made a point at looking at Harry's shoes.

His friend rolled his eyes. "Who's got a muggleborn mum, hmm?"

"Who wore dress shoes with jeans?" Ron grinned. He wouldn't let his friend forget that gaffe anytime soon.

"That's perfectly OK for muggles!" Harry protested.

"Sure, sure. That's why people snickered at us last time."

"They were snickering at us because you were gawking like, like… a first year at Hagrid!" Harry shot back.

"They were looking at you when they were laughing."

"That was because they thought I was cute," Harry retorted.

"Keep telling yourself that, mate," Ron told him. "Who's got a girlfriend?"

"I had a girlfriend, too!"

"Parvati only went out with you once."

"She was boring anyway. Oh, look, the new Nimbus!"

Well, that was an obvious change of subject, if Ron had ever seen one, but Harry was right - there was the new Nimbus 2002 in the display window. And it was beautiful. Sleek, with an improved footrest, double-bound bristles and a shaft that was enchanted to provide the perfect grip. "Bloody hell, I hope Malfoy buys one," Ron said.

"What? Are you crazy?" Harry gaped at him.

"If Malfoy has one, Sirius will buy a set for the entire Gryffindor team." That had happened before, after all.

Harry blinked, then laughed. "Right! And Mum can't do anything if it's for school!" He looked at the display again. "Too bad Malfoy's not here - we could tell him I'm getting one, then he'd get one for sure, and we could truthfully tell Sirius that Malfoy got one."

That sounded a little underhanded. But if it meant that Gryffindor won the Cup for the fifth time in a row, Ron wouldn't complain.

"So, what's next?" Ron asked after they had spent a few minutes looking at the Nimbus and the rest of the shop's stock. "Muggle London?"

"No, let's visit the twins' shop, first." Harry grinned. "I need to check out their new inventions. See if there's something that I can use against a certain witch..."

Ron sighed. Not again. "Mate, I don't think that's a good idea."

"What?" His friend was frowning at him. "You don't even know what Fred and George have invented, do you? Wait, did they tell you?"

"No, no, they didn't tell me." They never did - they preferred to 'surprise' Ron with their pranks. "But… Harry, I'd really like to win the House Cup once while we're at Hogwarts."

"And we will! Now that Fred and Goerge aren't at Hogwarts any more…"

"Harry!" Ron interrupted his friend. "You and Granger lost us more points than Fred and George."

"And we almost got the Cup anyway! So, now that the twins are gone, we'll win the Cup."

Ron closed his eyes and sighed again. "We won't win the Cup if you keep up this feud."

"That's Granger's fault. If she weren't such a tattletale..." Harry scoffed. "Besides, she keeps hexing me!"

Ron shook his head. His friend was great - brave, smart, a superb Seeker - but he just couldn't let go of his feud with Granger. "Look, someone has to take the first step. Otherwise, this will never end."

"Yes, and it's Granger who has to stop being such an insufferable swot!"

"That's what she says about you," Ron said.

"What? You talked to her?"

"Lavender told me," Ron explained.

Harry scoffed once more. "Of course she would take Granger's side - she's her friend."

Her best friend, actually. Which put Ron in a rather unenviable position, as Granger would put it. "Look, how about you just try to, I don't know… not do anything, no matter what she does? Say for a week? See how it works out?"

"It won't work. If I don't take her down a peg, she'll think she can order us around! She isn't even a prefect!"

Of course she wasn't. Granger was the top student of their year - probably all the years; Percy had mentioned something once - but she also had had almost as many detentions as Fred and George. Or Harry.

"Look, just give it a try, OK?"

"Why should I? She should!"

"She will. Probably - Lavender is asking her, too." Ron smiled. "So, how about we skip the shop and head to the cinema? I think there's a new movie out now, and I would prefer to see it in the cinema instead of at Dudley's." Harry's cousin had all the toys and was alright, but his parents were… well, they made the Malfoys look friendly.

"Good point. We still have a bunch to watch that we missed in spring," Harry agreed. "So, let's… oh, no!" He glared at something or someone behind Ron.

"What?" Ron turned and smiled. "Lavender!"

"Ron!" She beamed at him.

"Potter."

And she was with Granger. Great.

*****​

Hermione Granger gripped her wand tightly, but didn't take it out of the pocket of her robes. If that git Potter tried anything, she'd be ready. And she'd show him that she had learned a few new hexes since they last fought.

"Granger." Potter sneered at her, then nodded at Lavender. "Brown."

"Potter." Lavender returned the nod, then went to hug her boyfriend. "Ron! I didn't know you were going to Diagon Alley today!"

"Well, it's just a short visit," Weasley replied before they kissed.

Hermione still didn't understand why a decent boy like Weasley - he was a good boyfriend to Lavender, and he was a good prefect - was best friends with such an arrogant jerk. Potter was always insulting her and trying to bully her just because she was better than him.

"And what are you doing here? Trying to empty out Flourish and Blotts?" Potter laughed in his stupid way at his own stupid joke. He was flaunting his wealth, too, with his expensive robes.

"As a matter of fact," she told him through clenched teeth, "we haven't visited any bookshops today. Not that that's any of your business."

"All the books in the world won't change that you're just not quick enough with your wand or on your feet," Potter replied.

She scoffed. "What good is a quick wand if you don't know the right spells?" She tapped her index finger against her forehead. "Duelling is as much a contest of minds as it is of reflexes."

"That's why I keep beating you."

"Keep telling yourself that," she shot back. "Once we're finished with school, you'll find that being able to hex someone in the hallways won't impress an employer."

"But being the best at Defence in our year will impress people."

Oh, he didn't just go there! The only subject where the git beat her! She glared at him. "We'll see who beat whom once the O.W.L. results arrive!" She took a step closer to Potter - she wouldn't let him intimidate her - but then had to crane her neck slightly to keep staring into his eyes.

"Yes, we will!" He bared his teeth at her.

"Harry!"

"Hermione!"

Scoffing, she took a step back. "Yes, we will."

She kept glaring at Potter while Lavender snogged Weasley again. As much as Hermione hated to admit it, the git was right - he was better than her in Defence. Just because of the practicals. And the duels. The only chance she had to beat him there was to out-think him. Learn more spells than Potter. But he was from a pureblood family, and he had access to the Black family library - Hermione had heard him boast about it more than once. And she had seen the 'exotic spells' he used. And felt some of them.

She couldn't compete with that kind of advantage. Not without acquiring an advantage of her own. She glanced at the entrance to Knockturn Alley. It wasn't a place for young witches. But it was also a place where you could buy books that Flourish and Blotts didn't sell. Not illegal books, of course. Just restricted ones. She shouldn't, but… it was afternoon. And a bright, sunny day. And the shop that she had heard about when she had listened - by accident! - to those Slytherins talking in the library was close to the entrance, anyway.

Yes, she thought. She would have to risk it to show the git that you didn't need to have rich parents and godfathers to succeed in Wizarding Britain!

Though as long as she was with Lavender, she wouldn't be able to sneak away. And dragging Lavender into Knockturn Alley… No, Lavender was her best friend, but she wouldn't understand why Hermione had to do this. Several rows over Hermione sneaking into Hogwarts' restricted section proved that.

Fortunately, Hermione had a plan. Sort of. An approximation of a plan. She could improvise, anyway. Despite the git's claims to the contrary, she wasn't useless at thinking on her feet just because she didn't have a Seeker's reflexes. "Hey, Lavender!" She smiled at her best friend. "Let's go to Fortescue's! I want ice-cream."

Lavender nodded. "Of course, ah…" She glanced at Weasley.

"Oh, want to come along?" Hermione asked. "We don't mind." Perfect! Lavender could have fun with her boyfriend, Hermione would be free to leave after a bowl or two without either noticing and Potter would have his afternoon plans upended. Unless the git wanted to drag his supposed best friend away from an afternoon with his girlfriend.

"Ah…" Weasley looked at Lavender, then at Potter. And the git…

...was smiling? "Excellent idea," Potter said. "I'm in the mood for ice-cream myself."

Hermione managed to keep smiling even though she wanted to hex the git.

"Uh… good," Weasley said. "Let's go?"

Lavender nodded, but with evident apprehension. Of course Hermione's friend would know that Potter would ruin their outing.

*****​

Harry Potter dug his spoon into the dwindling remains of his serving of Fortescue's Yummy Yule Delight and smirked at Granger. Really, the girl was hopeless at this. As if Harry would ever try to ruin Ron's time with his girlfriend! Sirius had taught him better - you never ruined a mate's chances with a bird. Unless the bird was a Slytherin and ugly. Then you checked for love potions. Or if the bird was Granger. Then you got the poor bloke some help since he was obviously trying to commit suicide by witch.

He caught Granger's scowl and made a little show out of enjoying the next spoonful of the superb ice-cream. "Mhhh!"

"Gross," the girl muttered under her breath.

"No, it's actually excellent," Harry told her with a wide smile.

"Ha ha ha." Granger rolled her eyes. "Don't give up your day job."

"I don't have a day job," Harry shot back.

"Pity. Working for your money builds character. Of course, in your case, there'd be no point. Any character would be crushed by your giant ego as soon as it tried to claw its way out of the basement." Granger bared her teeth at him like a wild animal.

Ha, her hair would fit an animal - it was already escaping her messy ponytail. Perhaps he could cast a Medusa Jinx on her; seeing her own hair attack her would be amusing. On the other hand, they weren't at Hogwarts, and Dad had been quite clear about the consequences of hexing people in the street. Or even Granger.

He swallowed his next spoonful of ice-cream.

"Well, I think I ate a little too much ice-cream," Granger suddenly said. "My stomach's a little queasy - I'm sorry, Lavender, but I think I should head home."

Harry snorted. He recognised a lie when he heard one. Usually. "Bit too much for you to handle, huh?" he asked with a grin.

Granger scoffed. "Funny. Not."

"I think I might have a potion…" Lavender started to say.

"No, no, it's just a little queasiness," Granger protested at once. "No need to waste a potion on it, but thank you for the offer." The girl awkwardly smiled at Ron's girlfriend, nodded at Ron and then left after dropping some coins on the table.

"Don't get lost!" Harry yelled after her.

"Harry!"

"Potter!"

"What?" He frowned at them. "It was just a joke. She did get lost in the dungeons, remember?"

"That was five years ago," Lavender said with a glare.

"Five years ago? Wow, time flies! Not that you'd be able to tell by looking at Granger; she only got taller. And meaner."

"Mate…"

Harry held up his hands. "Sorry, sorry. But you heard her." He shook his head. "Anyway, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone and head over to the twins' shop. The ice-cream's on me!"

He stood, dropping a few more coins on the table.

"Thanks, mate," Ron said.

"Thank you," Lavender added. She looked more annoyed than grateful, though.

Harry sighed as he left the parlour. Ron was his best friend, but did he have to get involved with Granger's best friend? Couldn't he have picked a girl whose best friend wasn't such a shrew? And was hot and single?

He chuckled. Well, Ron was happy with her, which was what was important. He'd find a girlfriend of his own. Dad had told him that he should never give up.

He was halfway to the shop, pondering what to buy - apart from everything new in the shop - when he spotted Granger. Heading into Knockturn Alley.

Harry grinned. That was perfect! With a little luck, he'd be able to catch her in the act of buying something illegal!

He was about to follow the witch when she suddenly turned. Harry managed to hide behind an elderly couple complaining about the prices of enchanted hats before she could spot him, though - Granger was just too slow.

But when he peered around the wizard in front of him, she had already disappeared. Into Knockturn Alley.

He cursed under his breath and quickly rushed across the street. He hid behind the corner and peered down Knockturn Alley. Where was the stupid witch? There! Her hair was unmistakable. And she was already past the houses lining the entrance - the safer part of Knockturn Alley.

Where was she going, anyway? She didn't actually have… 'business' in there, as Uncle Peter would say when he told stories?

For a moment, Harry hesitated. Dad would freak if he went deeper into Knockturn Alley. Mum would freak if he went into the alley, period. Rose… didn't matter.

Then he went inside anyway. If Granger could do it, he could do it better! He was a Gryffindor! And the son of war heroes, not dentists!

Not that Granger could do it, anyway - the witch was pants at Defence. Easy prey for everyone in the alley. Hell, he'd better hurry before a hag grabbed her as a snack. She had probably heard about some bookshop and gotten lost. He'd save her from her own stupidity as his good deed for the day. That would settle once and for all who was better.

But where was Granger? She couldn't be too far ahead, but Knockturn Alley was as crooked as the creatures who dwelled there, as Dad often said, twisted where Diagon Alley was straight, so he couldn't see further than about fifteen yards.

Granger wouldn't actually go so far down the alley, would she? She wasn't that stupid. And she was always on Harry's case about 'dangerous stunts' or whatever - it wasn't his problem if others who weren't as good as he was tried to imitate him.

He cursed under his breath, then dashed forward to the next turn. No Granger in sight. Just some… was that a hag, or a witch who had hit every branch of the ugly tree coming down, as Dudley would put it?

The witch suddenly smiled, revealing crooked but very sharp teeth. Harry dashed back around the corner. Damn. It was a hag. Had she seen him? He had to move. But what if Granger…? No. Granger was useless at Defence, but she would've called for help, at least. Or used some weird spell to make a scene. So… she must be in one of the dozen shops he had passed on the way here.

None were bookshops, alas, or he would know exactly where to find her. But he needed to move, just in case the hag had seen him. If only he had the Cloak of Invisibility, but Mum had confiscated it after her last talk with McGonagall, and Dad hadn't yet managed to convince her that Harry should have it back.

Bah, he was a Gryffindor. And the best duellist in his own year and the year above. Which, now, meant the best in all of Hogwarts. He scoffed and entered the closest shop.

And left again, fighting the urge to retch. Who wanted to buy decomposing cadavers of various animals? He sniffed his robes - he could still smell the stench.

He shook his head. This was all Granger's fault!

*****​

Knockturn Alley, London, July 6th, 1996

This was great! Coming here had been the best idea she'd had in quite some time! Hermione Granger smiled widely as she went through the stack of used books in 'Leopold's Slightly-Used Goods', as the shop called itself. A first edition of 'Spells for all Situations'! Granted, it lacked a considerable number of modern spells, and about half the spells in it had been refined and improved since the first printing, but she had already found half a dozen spells which had been removed from subsequent editions. She was definitely buying this one!

She put it aside and looked at the next book in the stack. Oh! Hogwarts: A History! No. She shook her head. She didn't have an unlimited budget, unlike an arrogant rich git she could name, so she had to prioritise. She already had two editions of her favourite book; she had to focus on books that would help her get one over on Potter the next time the jerk tried to hex her.

Sighing, she put the book back. On to the next one. 'Once Around Africa on a Broom'? She took a glance at the first few pages, then sniffed and closed it. She had no need for a 'captivating tale about braving the countless dangers of the African wilderness before the Great Intervention', as the preface described the work. She would bet that the author didn't portray the African magical civilisations that the ICW had wiped out in the 'Great Intervention' objectively. She snorted - she doubted that the author had actually been to Africa at all; his style reminded her of Lockhart's, and that author made Rita Skeeter look like a paragon of honest reporting!

Shaking her head, she dropped the book back into the box.

Priorities.

But this one looked promising. 'Exotic Jinxes, Hexes and Curses: A Collection'. She checked the printing date. 1853. Hm. Most of the spells would be outdated, but that wouldn't matter too much if she found one that had fallen out of use - Potter wouldn't be prepared for it.

She started skimming it, suppressing her slight guilt at reading a book she hadn't - yet! - bought while repeatedly glancing at the wizard at the counter to check if he had noticed. But the saleswizard didn't seem to be paying attention to her at all. Or was he the shop owner? Most wizarding shops seemed to be operated by their owners and families. The closest to store chains she had seen in Wizarding Britain were Gladrags Wizardwear and Zonko's, and they only had three shops and two shops respectively.

There were no corporations at all, actually - Wizarding Britain didn't recognise the concept of corporate bodies. Apparently, it was based on the view that you needed to be able to wield a wand to be considered a person. She clenched her teeth at the reminder that no matter how much Dumbledore and his allies had done to reform Wizarding Britain into the most progressive wizarding country with regard to muggle and muggleborn rights, that was actually a very low bar to clear. Barely higher than three matchboxes.

She chuckled under her breath - she could name a few of her fellow students who'd have a good chance of winning the Upper Class Twit of the Year. Unfortunately, Wizarding Britain's upper class was, by and large, not quite as inbred as that. With some notable exceptions, even the old pureblood families were not averse to having their scions marry talented half-bloods. Some families even had no problem with their heirs marrying exceptional muggleborns. Such as the Potters.

She scoffed. To think that a witch like Lily Potter - Hermione had read up on the other witch after Professor Slughorn had compared her, favourably, to Mrs Potter in second year - had raised such an entitled git as her eldest child! It was probably the fault of the father. By all accounts, Mr Potter had been as bad as the Weasley twins during his time at Hogwarts, only worse since he was from an old and rich pureblood family.

Not an Old Family, though. The Potters didn't have a seat in the Wizengamot. At least Hermione didn't have to look forward to seeing her personal nemesis lord it over her all her life, even after they both had their N.E.W.T.s.

She drew a hissing breath through clenched teeth. It was so unfair! Potter had all the advantages: money, family connections, lots of friends - most students were crazy Quidditch fans who worshipped anyone who did well in that stupid game. He was even famous, sort of - even though all he had done to defeat Voldemort was to cry in his crib while Dumbledore and the entire Order of the Phoenix ambushed the Dark Lord in Godric's Hollow. The Bait Who Lived.

She grinned. Potter hated being called that. And while it was Malfoy who kept calling him that, Hermione had thought of the insult first! That would teach the git to call her a nightmare just for correcting his pronunciation!

Oh. She was gripping the book a little too hard… the page now had a tear in it. Well, she was buying it anyway. At the price she had been told, it was a steal! She put it aside and picked up the next book. 'Vampires, Werewolves and Veela.' Oh. She had heard of this one. A bigoted bundle of lies written by a jealous witch.

She dropped it back into the box with a sniff. She was after knowledge, not propaganda. Specifically, useful knowledge. As much as it was good to pursue knowledge for knowledge's sake, sometimes - especially in her current situation - you needed to focus on what benefitted you the most.

'Potions & Poisons'? That sounded, well… dangerous. But also interesting. She hadn't used potions much - not because she couldn't brew them; quite the contrary - but because the ingredients were generally too expensive for just putting one over on Potter. Unless he really needed to be taken down a peg. But if the book contained something useful and cheap to brew… Not all poisons were really harmful, anyway. Something that temporarily discomforted Potter would be perfect.

After all, the git liked to use potions on her - or whatever cursed confectionery the Weasley twins had thought of this week. Potter still owed her for the box of Honeydukes Finest Chocolates he had ruined. Or rather, she owed him retaliation.

*****​

"No, I don't want a 'perfectly safe cursed item'!" Harry Potter yelled over his shoulder as he left another shady shop. If only these shops had big display windows so he could tell from the outside if Granger was inside! Of course, people wouldn't shop in Knockturn Alley if that was the case. The things he had seen in the handful of shops he had visited… He shuddered.

But he couldn't feel sorry for himself - he had to find Granger. And for her own sake, too. Dad had told him and Rose what kind of things happened to kids who entered Knockturn Alley on a dare or for a lark. In great detail. Rose had had nightmares for a few days afterwards. Granger had no idea of the risks she was taking - she wouldn't be the first witch to disappear in the alley. Especially if it was obvious that they were a muggleborn.

He shook his head and entered the next shop. 'Leopold's Slightly-Used Goods' - a fence, then. Probably. He nodded at the wizard behind the counter, but the man barely looked up.

Harry refrained from commenting on the quality of the customer service. There was a time and place for quips, and this wasn't either. Besides, the less attention the wizard paid to him, the better - he was here to look for Granger, not to buy stolen goods.

Even, he reminded himself, when they would be a steal, such as the Nimbus 2000 there. Harry knew exactly what the going rate was for such a broom, used, and this was half of it! On the other hand, the broom might be broken or cursed. This was Knockturn Alley, after all; few shops cared about the safety of their customers. Although Mum could probably straighten out any spells on the broom… but she'd ask where he'd bought it.

No, he wasn't here to buy stolen goods. He nodded firmly and left the basket full of brooms to check the rest of the aisles. Of which there were a lot - Extension Charms on the room, of course.

Now where would Granger be? He snorted. Stupid question. She'd be going after books. He still wasn't ruling out that she was a mutated vampire who needed books rather than blood to live, even if Luna claimed she had checked for that last year.

He snorted at the memory - Granger had blown up spectacularly when Luna had told her that she wasn't a book vampire, but might still be affected by garlic if it was spread on paper.

Books, he reminded himself, looking around. Ah! In the back, there were shelves with books. And boxes. And he could hear someone muttering to themselves about abused covers… Granger!

Smiling, he silently closed in. There she was, bent over a box of books. Oblivious to the world. This would be the perfect opportunity to cast a jinx on her - to teach her situational awareness just like Sirius and Peter had taught him.

Nah. He'd done that before. Instead, he stepped up to her, then cleared his throat. "Fancy meeting you here, Granger!"

She jumped and straightened up with a startled gasp, whipping her wand out as she whirled, but he had expected that and grabbed her wrist before she could react. "Nuh-uh! You wouldn't want to violate the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, would you?"

"Potter!" she spat. "What are you doing here? And let go!"

He released her hand - but kept his wand ready, of course. The Trace didn't work in Knockturn Alley, and if Granger was aware of that, she might try something. "I saw you enter this disreputable location and thought I better keep an eye on you before some hag turns you into dinner." He grinned at her. "And what are you doing here? Trying to buy stolen goods, hm?"

"This is a second-hand shop!" she retorted.

"Exactly!"

"Oh, you…!" She shook her head. "Whatever. Go away!"

He rolled his eyes. "You're in Knockturn Alley, you idiot. If I had been a kidnapper, you'd already be stunned."

She had the audacity to scoff at that. "I don't need anyone to keep an eye on me - certainly not you! If anything, you're the greatest threat here. You and your irresponsible spell-casting!"

"Irresponsible? You have no idea how dangerous this place is!" he told her, clenching his teeth.

"And you do? Are you a regular here? Or are you going to tell me how you know all about this thanks to your father?" She scoffed again. "You and Malfoy are more alike than either of you wants to admit."

Oh, she did not just go there! "I'm nothing like that bigot!" he snapped, glaring at her.

She sneered in return. "Really? Both of you are far too arrogant for your own good. And both of you flaunt your family's wealth and fame."

"You take that back! And the Malfoys aren't famous!" More like infamous!

She smirked. "Oh, did I hit a nerve? Don't like facing the truth about yourself?"

"Hah! Says the most arrogant witch in the whole school!" He imitated her nasal voice: "Oh, I'm so smart, so much smarter than anyone else. Muggles have so many books you've never read, you know? They can do so many things without magic that you have no idea about! And you should work on your pronunciation blah blah bah..."

Hah! She was glaring at him. "Your jealousy is talking, I see. Your mother must be so disappointed that you have no idea about her culture!"

"I visit my muggle relatives often!" Pretty often, at least. "I know about muggle England!"

"Like a tourist, I guess." She sniffed. "Now go away - I need to sort through more books." She made a shooing motion at him.

"You wish." He shook his head. "I am not joking or lying - this is dangerous. There could be curses on those books. Leave them - we're going!"

"I'm not going anywhere. Least of all with you!"

He had tried being nice. But if the stupid witch wouldn't listen… He reached for her wrist again. He could just drag her out - she was a bookworm while he had gone through Ollie Wood's crazed training regimen. And Sirius's duelling training.

She tried to evade his lunge, but he managed to grab her robes - and avoided her attempts to kick him in return. "Stop being stupid!"

"Let go!"

"Come on!"

He managed to grab both her wrists, but she kicked him in the shin, hard, and he released her with a yelp.

She stumbled back, her eyes widening, and fell into the shelf behind her. Stuck to the floor, it didn't budge - but her flailing arm got entangled into some coiled rope, and when she fell to the floor, the rope came with her, uncoiling like a whip.

Harry grabbed the end lashing out towards him out of reflex - and suddenly felt as if a hook behind his navel was yanking him away.

Portkey, he realised as the shop disappeared. The stupid witch had managed to activate a Portkey!

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

Hermione Granger felt nauseous when she finally stopped spinning and fell down into… sand? Wet sand, she realised while she was still shaking her head and fighting the urge to retch. Portkey, she thought. We've been transported by a Por... "Potter!" she snarled and looked around as she pushed herself up to a kneeling position. She was on a beach - at the sea.

The stupid boy had fallen into the sand next to her and was rolling on his stomach, then rose. "You idiot! You activated a Portkey!"

"Me?" She scoffed. "You grabbed me!" This was his fault!

"I let you go!"

"After I kicked you!"

"Yes. And then you grabbed the Portkey!" He was sitting in the sand and glaring at her.

He was blaming her for this? "I didn't grab anything - I fell into a shelf because of your actions!" Potter had grabbed her, trying to manhandle her out of the shop.

"I wouldn't even have been there if you hadn't been stupid enough to enter Knockturn Alley!"

"What? Do you really think there are monsters waiting to ambush people as soon as they take a step into Knockturn Alley? During the day?" She scoffed again. "Do you also think that you'll get mugged as soon as you take the subway in New York?" She had heard those stories too, after all. Exaggerated, no doubt.

"What? What does New York have to do with this? We're talking about Knockturn Alley! The most dangerous area in Wizarding Britain!" He shook his head as if he couldn't follow her.

"Really? Let me guess: Your father told you that." Typical.

She saw him clench his teeth. "As a matter of fact, yes, he did," he spat. "And he's the Head Auror - he knows best about such things!" He sneered at her. "Or are you an expert in wizarding crime statistics?"

She snorted in return. "No, but I know you. I bet you wanted to visit the alley, and so he had to scare you off with tall tales!" She grinned and cut him off when he opened his mouth to protest. "And he would do it, too - I've heard the stories about him." And they weren't half as funny as Potter thought they were.

That shut him up, and he narrowed his eyes at her some more. "That doesn't change the fact that it's your fault!"

"Don't blame me for your mistakes! I was perfectly fine!" She told him. Really! She stood, swaying for a moment before she found her balance in the soft sand.

He stood as well. "And now we're perfectly lost! And it's your fault."

"Stop blaming me for your own mistakes!" she snapped. "And we're not completely lost - we're on a beach by the sea."

"On a beach that could be anywhere," he told her.

"Not anywhere," she replied, pointing at the palm trees behind them. "We're obviously in the tropics or subtropics."

"Obviously." He sneered at her. "You're thinking like a muggle, Granger. We're wizards. We could be anywhere."

That stung. "Occam's razor," she shot back. Not that he would know what that meant. "The simplest explanation is usually the right one."

"Not when magic is involved!"

Oh, the stupid boy! "In any case, whether we're in the tropics or subtropics, or in the Arctic, the climate is clearly tropical. Humid and hot. And if we track the shadow cast by the sun over the course of a day, we'll be able to determine, roughly at least, the latitude of our location."

He stared at her. He should know that as well - they had, unfortunately, spent five years in Astronomy together! After a moment, he shook his head. "Do you really want to spend a day on this beach tracking a shadow?"

Hermione huffed in return. "Of course I don't want to." She wasn't stupid! "But we need to find shelter, and, if possible, food, until we're found." For fresh water, there was a spell.

He shrugged. "It won't take long for Mum and Dad to find us. And they can send us food and a wizarding tent with Hedwig. And a Portkey home."

She frowned, then nodded. He was right. It wasn't as if they had been shipwrecked in the middle of the ocean, with rescue weeks away. "We should still prepare for the worst," she said. "Just in case." It was the sensible thing to do.

Which, of course, didn't mean that Potter would see sense - the boy was far too arrogant for his own good.

But, to her surprise, he nodded. "I guess we don't have anything better to do, anyway."

She rolled her eyes. Potter just couldn't admit that she was right. Typical! "So, we should… Oh! I'm stupid!" She exclaimed.

"Yes?"

Hermione glared at him, then drew her wand, grinning when he suddenly tensed. "Avis!"

A flock of birds appeared and circled her. One of them went over to peck at Potter's hair.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Saving us," she told him. "We're underage - and I just did magic. The Trace will alert the Ministry." And, as she had found out in the summer before second year, the Ministry was very quick to respond to such incidents.

"Ah." He nodded, but with obvious reluctance. "That might work."

"It should work," she corrected him. "And it will work faster than waiting until someone notices that we're missing." She looked around - last time, the owl had appeared almost at once.

"Unless you're breaking the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery in London, the Ministry owl will take some time to reach you," Potter said, smirking.

She clenched her teeth. "You said we could be anywhere, didn't you?" She snorted. "In any case, let's see if we can find shelter or some fruit or something."

She was feeling a little hungry, after all, and they'd probably have to wait for a few hours, at least.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 2: The Beach

Diagon Alley, London, July 6th, 1996

"...and then I told her: 'Yes, Parvati, that's very good, but we need to write a Defence essay. Not a Herbology essay.'" Lavender Brown smiled and joined in when Ron started laughing.

"You really let her write an entire essay without telling her that it was for the wrong subject?"

She sniffed. "She was copying my notes without asking. She just smiled at me and said I wasn't using them."

He snorted. "Well, that was rather rude."

"Yes, it was. We're friends, but she should've asked." She smiled. "So, instead of listening to the debut of Celestina's latest song on the wireless, she had to write a Defence essay on Sunday evening." And it had served Parvati right - really, you didn't just borrow your friend's stuff without asking! Not to mention that she only wanted Lavender's notes because Lavender had studied with Hermione.

"That was 'At Wand Point', right?" he asked.

"Yes." She beamed at him for remembering that.

He nodded. "It's a decent song. Mum's a fan of 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love'. Whenever it plays on the wireless, everyone has to be quiet and listen. Drives me spare."

"Ah." Lavender nodded in sympathy. She liked that song, but if you heard it all the time… "Well, it's not going to be played too often, is it?"

"I hope not." He pushed his empty ice-cream bowl to the side. "That was great."

She pushed her own, still half-full, to the centre. "Want to help me finish this?"

"Of course!" He beamed at her and stuck his spoon into her banana split, making appreciative noises.

"So, how long do you have?" she asked after they had finished her ice-cream.

He frowned. "How long?"

"Until Potter returns. You've got plans for the afternoon, right?" Or so he'd told her when she'd asked him out yesterday.

"Ah, right." He winced a little. "We had plans, but…" He checked his watch. "He should've been back by now. Checking out my brothers' new products doesn't take that long."

She sniffed. Ron was almost the perfect boyfriend. Funny, cute, nice - he never made her feel stupid or talked down to her - and humble. But he was Potter's best friend. With all that entailed, as Hermione would say. Misplaced loyalty, Lavender called it. "He really should stop annoying Hermione," she said. She knew who Potter would target with whatever he bought today.

"They both drive each other crazy," Ron said, shrugging. "She's not exactly innocent."

She frowned. "If he didn't keep at it, she'd stop." Probably. Hermione was a little obsessed with getting even. Still, she hadn't made any elaborate revenge plans since their third year.

"That's what Harry says."

"Really?"

He grinned. "Well, that's what he means. She is rather abrasive towards him, isn't she?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hermione's a nice girl if you get to know her."

"Well, I'll have to take your word for it," he said. "She only started to be nice to me when we started dating." He snorted. "How did you become friends, anyway? For our entire first year, Harry was sure that she'd slipped you a potion."

"What?" She stared at him. He couldn't be serious!

"Well, we were little kids, and Harry couldn't understand how anyone could like her when he hated her."

"Really." She shook her head. "It was perfectly natural. We bonded over hairstyling charms."

"What?" He leaned forward. "She's had the same hairstyle for years. I didn't think she used any charms."

Lavender nodded. Potter had teased Hermione about her hair often enough. "She doesn't use them. But she knows every hairstyling charm that has ever been mentioned in any book in the library at Hogwarts." She narrowed her eyes at him, and he winced a little. "That doesn't get back to Potter, understood?"

"My lips are sealed," he replied, making a zipping motion.

"Good. It was actually my fault. I asked her why she wasn't using any charms. She said they didn't work on her hair. I told her that was rubbish; that she must not be casting them correctly." Lavender still remembered the row that had started. Hermione had reacted as if Lavender had accused her of ritually sacrificing animals or something. And then she had accused her of not knowing anything about hair! Lavender wasn't a genius like Hermione, but she wasn't dumb! And she was an expert in hairstyling charms - and a few others! "Anyway, she dared me to try, so I did - and it didn't work. So I tried other charms. Wrote to Mum and asked for more advanced ones. She started researching in the library. We worked together, and well, started to do homework together as well." Hermione had complained that Lavender was taking too long, actually, and decided to help her, but that was neither here nor there. Merlin's beard, both of them had been so stubborn about proving they were right! They had become friends without realising it.

"And no charm worked?"

"We later found out that there was a curse on her hair."

"That wasn't Harry. He would've told me if he had done it."

"Of course it wasn't him! We think it was accidental magic since she'd had her hair like that ever since she could remember." Probably a reaction to a hairstyle she didn't like as a toddler, but that was a secret Lavender wouldn't tell Ron.

"Ah." He frowned. "But why didn't she get the curse broken?"

"She did. But she's used to it, she said." What Lavender's friend had said was that she wouldn't give Potter the satisfaction of seeing her using a hairstyling charm after all his teasing, but that was close enough.

Ron shook his head again but didn't comment. Good.

"Anyway, enough of that," she told him, putting her hand on his. "Let's take advantage of our time together before Potter returns."

He grinned - he knew what she meant. And she knew the perfect place for a little snogging.

And if Potter grew impatient after being late and didn't wait in Fortescue's for them, well, that would be his own fault.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

"The Ministry's let us down. Typical. When you make a tiny mistake, they immediately jump down your throat, but when you need them, they're nowhere to be found."

Harry Potter clenched his teeth. Granger just couldn't keep her mouth shut. "They'll find us," he told her. "You'll see." It hadn't even been an hour yet!

"You also said that about the Portkey taking us back." She pursed her lips.

"I said that it might be possible that the Portkey would take us back if we reactivated it," he corrected the insufferable swot. "I didn't say it would take us back."

She sniffed. "Well, it didn't. At least we can use the rope if we need to build a shelter."

That again. "Why do you want a shelter? It's not cold here. Quite the opposite, actually." It was so hot, he had shed his robes already. Granger, of course, hadn't. Even though he could see sweat running down her face. Crazy. He was still sweating in his shirt and trousers. Even in the scant shadow provided by the rock next to him.

"What if it starts raining? You want to sit here and get wet?" She shook her head, seemingly not noticing that half her hair had escaped her ponytail.

"As a matter of fact, yes," he told her, showing his teeth. "I would like that. It would be a relief from this heat."

"Only until the temperature falls during the night. Then you'd be wet and cold."

"Not if my clothes dried by nightfall," he retorted. Couldn't the stupid witch stop trying to lecture him?

"We've been here for an hour," she told him after a moment as if he didn't have a watch. "We should look for a cave or something. And edible fruits."

He scoffed. "We're lost. And if you're lost, you should stay put." Mum had taught him that after that trip to Chessington World of Adventures with Dudley. "If we start wandering around, people searching for us might miss us," he explained. He also sneered at her a little. He knew what he was doing.

She pressed her lips together and glared at him. Couldn't admit to being wrong, huh? She shook her head again. "That's different! It's like we're shipwrecked. We're not supposed to stay on the beach and starve."

"You won't starve if you don't eat anything for a few hours." He chuckled. "Certainly not after all the ice-cream you ate at Fortescue's!"

Her glare intensified. "I had a normal serving!"

"It should still keep you fed for hours," he replied. He made a point of looking at her robes. "Become a little pudgy, have we? My cousin had a weight problem as well."

"I'm not overweight!" she spat. "Not that it would be any business of yours! Oh, you're such a git! We've been stranded on an unknown island, and you think it's just like being a child who's gotten lost at the zoo? That, any second now, Mum and Dad will save you?"

"Or the Ministry," he shot back. "That was your idea, wasn't it?"

"I didn't say we needed to stay on the beach and do nothing while we're waiting!"

"We're conserving our energy." He laid back down on the robes he had spread out in the sand as a makeshift blanket. "We can look for food later."

"Then it might be too late. We might be hungry and tired, prone to making mistakes, and, here, a mistake might prove fatal!"

He rolled his eyes. Did she have to be so dramatic? "I'm sure the palm trees have coconuts. Just go and cut one down if you're hungry." She probably was - hungry people were insufferable and easy to set off. Dudley and Uncle Vernon had been like that, at least, when they had been on a diet. Huh, if Granger was on a diet all the time, that would explain her attitude.

He blinked. There was another possible explanation. "Hey, you're not on your period, are you?" That would be the worst - stuck on a beach with a girl at that time of the month.

"What?" She gasped. "That's none of your business!"

She was. Great.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Mum and Dad were taking their time.

"You… Of all the stupid things… To think that the only reason I'm not going along with your asinine plan of doing nothing is that I am…" She scoffed and he heard her take a deep breath.

"It was just a question!" he said quickly.

"A stupid and sexist question!"

He groaned. Perhaps he should cast a Silencing Charm on himself?

But fortunately, Granger calmed down. "In any case, we won't be missed for a few hours yet," she told him. "I had plans for the whole afternoon."

"I bet you did." She probably had plans for the rest of her life, all marked down in her precious schedule.

"Not everyone is as disorganised as you are."

"At least I don't freak out if a lesson is rescheduled," he shot back.

She glared at him again, lips pressed together. "You're impossible! I'm going to get a coconut!"

"Fine."

*****​

Hermione Granger scowled, deeply, as she walked away from the git. Honestly! They were stranded on a tropical island - which, as even Potter had realised, could be anywhere but probably was in the tropics - and he thought the best course of action was to stay where they'd arrived and wait for his parents?

She knew better. If stranded or shipwrecked, you needed to find water, food and shelter. Water wasn't a problem - the Water-Making Spell provided them with all the clean, fresh water they'd ever need, although some containers might be useful. But food and shelter? You couldn't conjure food; everyone who had read up on Conjuration knew that. You could enlarge or multiply it - if you had some food and knew the charms. She knew the Engorgement Charm, but not the Duplication Charm. Either would work, but she didn't have any food to use it on. Not yet, at least. More concerning was that she didn't have a magical way to keep food from spoiling. Enlarging spoilt fruit wouldn't help anyone. Well, they might be able to use it as bait, but… First, though, she had to find some food. Although the palm trees here did look like...

She grinned as she eyed the trees lining the beach. Yes, there were coconuts. At least they looked like coconuts. She narrowed her eyes and hesitated. This was - probably - a magical island, so they could actually be anything. Even dangerous plants or creatures using that form to lure in prey.

But she didn't remember reading about magical coconuts, not in Herbology nor in Care of Magical Creatures. And, damn it, she wouldn't let Potter mock her for being afraid of a few coconuts. She told him she'd get a coconut, and she would. She'd show him!

Once she figured out how to get the coconut without risking life and limb. Those palm trees didn't look easy to climb. Certainly not in her robes. She scoffed. She was a witch - she didn't need to climb a tree.

Pointing her wand at the closest coconut, she cast a Cutting Charm, then stepped back - she didn't want to catch a coconut with her head.

But the coconut didn't drop. Had she missed? She aimed her wand again - it was too bad that she couldn't see where the coconuts connected to the tree - and recast the charm. Something fell - or floated down; she had cut off some foliage. But no coconut.

Perhaps a Cutting Curse? But if she hit the coconut, she'd cut it open and waste the coconut water inside. On the other hand, she could create water. And she was getting hungry.

She checked if Potter was watching - the git would tattle on her if he caught her casting a curse. But he hadn't moved; he was probably asleep. Good.

She aimed at the coconut that was the farthest from the others and cast the curse.

Most of the coconut fell, but she caught it with a Levitation Charm before it hit the sand. The coconut water splashed on to the sandy ground, though, before she'd managed to catch the coconut.

She had managed to get about two-thirds or three-quarters of a coconut. And it looked ripe, too! Pearly white coconut flesh! Perfect!

She grinned as she walked back to Potter. This would show him!

He didn't react to her return. He was pretending to be asleep. "You shouldn't sleep in the sun," she told him - his head wasn't in the shade any more.

"It's called sunbathing," he replied without opening his eyes. "You might try it sometime."

"It's called asking for sunburn," she corrected him. "We're not in England any more. The sun's much stronger here. You might even risk sunstroke."

"Tell me something I don't know."

She knew he was rolling his eyes without having to check. He was such an immature git! "Well, if you get your skin burnt, we might find out if coconuts have healing properties."

"You don't know the Sunshade Charm?"

What was that? Probably some form of magical sunblock. Not that she'd admit that she hadn't heard of that particular charm. "Why would I care about a charm I can't legally use when I'm not in school and won't ever need at Hogwarts?" She sniffed.

"And after Hogwarts?" He grinned at her. "I thought you would be prepared for life after school."

He went there? "It's not exactly a priority. Not when I can buy sunblock in any supermarket."

"Do you see a supermarket here?" He even got up and looked around, shading his eyes with his hand.

"I'm not the one lying in the sun," she retorted.

"You don't know how to cast the spell." He grinned.

"And you do?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Of course! Learned it when Ron and I visited Bill. Ron's big brother. He works as a Curse-Breaker in Egypt."

"I know." She smiled. Lavender's habit of gushing about her boyfriend had come in handy for once.

He frowned for a moment. "Why would… Ah! Your friend's a blabbermouth!"

"What?" She stared at him. "People talk about their dates. That's perfectly normal."

He grunted in return and lay down again. "Whatever."

She rolled her eyes and pushed some stray strands of hair back - she would have to redo her ponytail again. He was such a git. He didn't deserve to share her coconut. But she was better than that. Better than him. And he had to be hungry as well by now.

Shaking her head, she sat down - in the shade of the rock. She wasn't stupid enough to sit in the sun. Especially not wearing her dark robes. It was hot enough already. But she didn't fancy getting sunburnt. And she wasn't exactly dressed to remove the robes. Which was all Lavender's fault, of course.

Well, that didn't matter now. She had a meal to prepare. She put the coconut down in front of her - shell down, of course. Then she cast an Enlargement Charm on it. The coconut fragment grew to the size of a pumpkin in an instant. A normal pumpkin, not one of Hagrid's monsters.

She cut off a small slice with a Cutting Charm - it worked perfectly for that - and started to chew it. She closed her eyes and sighed. It tasted perfect. Fresh, slightly sweet… she swallowed, then cut off another slice and looked at Potter. "Want some as well?" He stared at her with narrowed eyes, so she added: "It's safe."

He didn't look convinced, so she rolled her eyes. "Honestly!" She chewed and swallowed the slice she was holding. "See? It's safe. And there's enough for both of us."

He huffed, then cut his own slice. And cast a spell of some sort on it before eating it.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Hah! She grinned at the acknowledgement.

*****​

Harry Potter rolled his eyes. Damn, Granger was insufferable - she was grinning at him as if she had defeated him in a duel. Which she would never, ever manage, of course. But he was sure that she had been banned from board games as a kid since she could neither win nor lose gracefully.

At least the coconut she had brought was tasty. He had been getting a little hungry - ice-cream was great, but it didn't keep you fed for long. Unless you kept eating it, of course.

"We should be able to support ourselves for a while with coconuts," Granger told him. "There are several coconut trees, and one nut can be enlarged to feed us for a day. It would be ideal if we had a way to keep them from spoiling - we'll run out otherwise."

"Dad will find us before that," he told her. Or Mum. But Dad was the Auror.

"They haven't found us yet," she retorted with a sniff.

It wasn't his fault that her parents were muggles and couldn't help her. "They won't have missed me yet," he said. He was almost sixteen - his parents knew he could take care of himself.

"What a surprise," she replied with the worst attempt at faking surprise that he had seen since Dudley's role as a miller in that kindergarten production of 'Rumpelstiltskin' Mum had dragged him to.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Wow, how witty. How long did it take you to come up with that quip? Or did you read it in a book? In kindergarten?"

She flushed. Probably - it was hard to tell since she was already flushed from the heat. "What would you know about books? Aren't books 'booooring'?

"Not the Defence books. Or books about Quidditch," he replied, showing his teeth. And grinned when she pursed her lips. She hated that he was better than her at Defence.

"In any case," she told him through clenched teeth, "we can't just assume that we will be saved in a few hours. We need to make plans for the worst."

Being stuck with this witch was already the worst case, in Harry's opinion. He sighed. "We're not muggles, Miss Crusoe. We won't starve for a long time, looking at how many palm trees I can see from here. I bet the sea's full of fish, too. And we can make water as we please."

"And I guess we'll simply enlarge our robes and some driftwood to make a tent?" she snapped.

He laughed. "Hey, you're getting it!" He waved his wand around. "We're wizards. Well, you're a witch. Getting stranded on an island isn't the end of the world. It's just… a vacation!"

"A vacation?" She glared at him. "What if your parents don't find us? We could be stuck here for days! Weeks! Perhaps months! We might miss Hogwarts!"

"Merlin's beard, Granger, get a grip! Your priorities are completely..."

"We might miss Quidditch," she interrupted him.

He shut his mouth. "We won't. We'll be found long before September."

"And what if we aren't? Why do you think it'll be easy to find us? The Ministry obviously has no way of detecting our underage magic!" She shook her head, and her ponytail disintegrated completely. Huffing, she redid it.

"You either got cursed hair or a cursed scrunchie," Harry told her.

"My hair's not cursed, thank you very much!" she spat.

"Are you sure? Did you check?" He chuckled.

"Yes."

Harry blinked. "You actually checked if your hair was cursed?" Laughing, he shook his head. "Oh, that's…"

"It was cursed," she told him with a growl.

"It wasn't me!" he said without thinking. Uncle Sirius would be proud of his reflexes. "Really."

"I know," she told him. "If you had done it, I'd have cursed you bald!"

"Sure, sure," he said with a little more bravado than he felt. Granger was pants at duelling - at least against a competent duellist like himself - but she probably knew more spells than anyone else other than the teachers at Hogwarts.

"You're asking for a demonstration."

He pointed his wand at her. "You want to have a go? No teachers here to save you."

For a moment, it looked as if she'd go for it. Then she scoffed. "We're stranded on a deserted - possibly deserted - island, and you want to duel? How old are you?"

"You started it!" he retorted.

"I wasn't serious."

"Sure, sure."

"Oh, you…" She shook her head and sat down in the shade of the rock again. "I wish I were here with someone who wasn't such an immature git."

"I wish I wasn't here with you," he told her.

"The feeling's mutual, I assure you."

"Whatever." He closed his eyes and ignored her.

*****​

Hermione Granger had to resist the urge to hex Potter. Here she had tried to be nice to the git, offered him some of her coconut meal, and what did he do? Mocked and insulted her! Typical - the idiot had no sense of priority. Yes, it was possible that his oh-so-famous-and-rich parents would arrive quickly and take them home to Britain before they had to fend for themselves, but they couldn't count on that. Even a git like Potter should realise that they had to assume the worst and prepare accordingly. And it wasn't as if they had anything else to do - Potter was literally just lying on the ground.

She pursed her lips. She should let the git be. Once he was hungry, wet and cold, he'd realise how stupid he had been. But Potter was so stubborn, he'd probably starve rather than admit that she was correct.

And if they were saved after a few days - a nice, conservative estimate - he would probably lie and complain to his parents that she was at fault for whatever had befallen him.

She sighed. This was like the worst group project in primary school. She was the only one trying to actually do the assignment, and everyone else was doing nothing at best, or actively sabotaging her at worst. Potter would've fit right in with Smith, Popovski and Gruber in her class. At least mentally. If only she had been stranded here with Neville. That boy would have listened to her. Even Weasley would've been a clear improvement.

In any case, she knew what she had to do. Unlike a certain other person. She'd secured food and water for the time being, now she needed to find shelter. Just because the weather was nice right now didn't mean they could count on it staying nice. Tropical storms were dangerous. Depending on where they were, they might even have to face a hurricane.

Two enlarged robes turned into tents wouldn't cut it. They needed something far more solid. A cave would be best - not too close to the shore, though. But, looking around, she didn't think there were many, if any, suitable caves on this island. Not close to the shore, anyway. Perhaps she could enlarge a coconut shell and turn it into a shelter? Or… a mollusc shell? Hermit crabs used empty shells to protect themselves. But she didn't think she could enlarge a shell enough to work. Not to mention all the jokes Potter would make about her being 'crabby'.

She pointed her wand at a piece of driftwood and cast the spell as perfectly as she could. The wood grew to an impressive size - but she could easily tell that it wouldn't be enough if cast on a coconut to create a shelter. Unless it was meant for Crookshanks.

Oh, poor Crookshanks! He had to be missing her dearly! Her parents would feed him and clean his litter box, of course, but they weren't her. The poor cat might think she had abandoned him!

"Did you just realise you forgot your homework?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ha ha."

"You 'accidentally' forgot to return a book to the Hogwarts library?"

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had done that once, and learned her lesson. In first year. "Not everyone's stuck in first year, Potter. Some of us actually learn from our mistakes and grow up. You should try it one of these days."

"I'd have to make mistakes first."

She blinked, then snorted. "I guess you meant to get stuck to the ceiling for an hour due to stumbling while carrying a potion you meant to use on me, right?" She shook her head. "You're hopeless. Although I guess it's not entirely your fault that you've been spoilt rotten."

"Says Miss 'I won't admit I was wrong, ever!' Granger." He scoffed at her. "I bet you're still trying to prove that the Easter Bunny exists because you thought so as a toddler."

She clenched her teeth. She was perfectly capable of admitting when she was wrong! "Since you're unable to recognise your own mistakes, I don't think you're qualified to judge anyone else's."

"Ha ha," he imitated her. "You sound like Percy."

"And that's supposed to be an insult?" She raised her eyebrows and scowled at him. "He was Head Boy and has already been promoted twice at the Ministry!" And he had worked hard for his achievements. Unlike some people. Like Potter.

"And that's all that counts, right?" He scoffed again. "You should try to live a little, Granger. Have some fun. Life's more than work work nag nag."

"And you should realise that not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth!" she spat. "And I have fun when you're not annoying me!"

He glared at her. "I'm not like Malfoy!"

She grinned - comparisons to Malfoy always made him mad. He just couldn't stand the truth. "Could have fooled me with the way you keep talking about your parents."

"I don't talk about my parents like… like Malfoy does!"

"Oh, no - you just use their names to impress people. And tell everyone about what they and their friends did at Hogwarts."

"I don't hide behind them!" he spat.

"Really? What are you doing now, then? You're waiting for them to come and save you." She sniffed. "You're not even doing the minimum amount of work to prepare for the worst case. Pathetic!"

"Oh, you...!" He jumped up and levelled his wand at her.

But she was looking at him down the length of her own wand. She might not be as quick or athletic as he was - though she was in decent shape! - but she had been prepared for this.

She took a deep breath, tensing up. If the git actually tried to hex her… She wouldn't start it. Because she was better than that. She wasn't some spoilt rich boy. She wouldn't jeopardise their survival because of an overblown ego. But she would defend herself. And here, on the beach, he wouldn't be as quick as in the duelling ring. The sand would slow him down.

But he shook his head, then pointed his wand at the trees behind them. His patronising sneer, as if she wasn't even worthy of caution, made her want to hex him. Really hex him.

"Accio coconut!"

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Preparing for the worst," he replied as half a dozen coconuts landed in the sand in front of him. "See? You don't need to cut them up; you can just summon them whole - if you can competently cast a Summoning Charm."

She hadn't thought of that. In hindsight that had been an oversight. Then again, she didn't know how much force you needed to rip a coconut from its tree. But it didn't matter, anyway. "Preparing? Are you stupid? I already got a coconut for us! With one Engorgement Charm, we have enough for a whole day and leftovers. Six coconuts? We don't need six! It's a waste! And you just cut down our potential food supply by at least a week!" The damn fool! Typical - always showing off without caring about the consequences or displaying even a smidgen of common sense!

Of course he wouldn't admit his mistake. "Who's stupid? They'll keep! How do you think they get to England from the tropics if they spoil as soon as they get cut from the tree?"

She clenched her teeth. That was actually a good point - coconuts weren't kept refrigerated in the shops, at least as far as she knew. Though they might be shipped that way. In any case, she didn't know how long they would last. "That doesn't change the fact that it was unnecessary to get six of them!"

"Six whole coconuts. They'll last much longer than one coconut that has been cut open. And with a single Duplication Charm, we can make them last even longer."

He knew the Duplication Charm? Typical. She huffed. He probably got special lessons for it over the holidays while she wasn't allowed to touch her wand! On the other hand, that opened up a lot of possibilities. She pointed her wand at a piece of driftwood in the surf. "Accio wood!"

She let the wood hit the ground in front of her and ignored the sand it splattered over her robes and trainers.

"And what are you doing?"

She rolled her eyes and ignored him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. And she needed to focus when casting her Cutting Charm. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked after cutting the wood lengthwise twice, creating a plank. A small one, but it was much easier to evenly - mostly - cut a small piece than an enlarged one.

"No?" He shook his head. "Is this supposed to be a fishing rod? Or a tent pole?"

"Tent pole?" She scoffed. "This is a plank. After you duplicate it, I'll enlarge them. That will give us enough material for a sturdy shelter." A Sticking Charm would keep it all together.

"You want me to cast the Duplication Charm? Can't you cast it yourself?"

She clenched her teeth. "Would I be asking you if I could cast it myself? Huh?" She hated admitting that she didn't know a spell Potter knew. "Now please duplicate them."

"What, you haven't learned the Duplication Charm already?"

He was staring at her. Damn it. "No, I haven't!" she spat. He just had to rub it in! "Now please…" She trailed off. She knew that stupid grin. She closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "You don't know how to cast the charm either, do you?"

"I'm not the one living in the library," he replied with a mulish expression.

Was he blaming her for not studying far enough ahead? "No, you live on the Quidditch pitch. Or would, if that were allowed."

"Wood actually wanted us to camp on the pitch on the day before a match, to 'acclimate us', as he called it."

She couldn't help it - she chuckled at that. "I can see that."

Potter chuckled as well. "McGonnagal shut that down, fortunately."

She nodded. "But we do need a shelter."

"I told you - we can enlarge our robes. They're protected against rain, at least. And they can form a teepee," he told her. With a toothy smile, he added: "And we'll each have a tent for ourselves."

"That is a very good point," she agreed. "But we need poles for that."

He pointed at the driftwood at her feet. "Just cut it a few more times lengthwise."

She nodded and went to work.

*****​

Harry Potter shook his head when the girl was focused on cutting wood. Damn, Granger was a piece of work. Getting worked up over everything. At least she had now finally admitted that his ideas were better.

He snorted - silently. What had she wanted to do? Build an entire cabin out of driftwood? And then a waterwheel to power a grindstone or whatever? Or to water a field for growing crops? As if they would be here long enough for that. Ha, they'd probably be found before they needed to turn their robes into tents. Ron should start to miss him, soon, and if his friend asked Mum and Dad if Harry had returned without telling him, then they'd realise something was up and send a Patronus Messenger to find him. They had done so before, after all.

No, they really had no reason to panic. Granger was just working herself up into a frenzy because she couldn't run to a teacher right now and ask what she should do. Or she was honestly afraid of being stranded. As if they couldn't handle this - they were wizards, well, a wizard and a witch, after all.

And, he smiled at the thought, he had found a spell she didn't know! Of course, she would learn it first thing once they were back, but he could tease her about not knowing the perfect spell when she desperately needed it.

Once they were back home, at least. And this would be a great story to tell - a real adventure. Actually, Granger was right - securing water, food and shelter was a good idea. The chance that they would need it was low, but it made for a better story. 'We had already settled in and gotten comfortable for a stay of a few weeks when my parents arrived' sounded better than 'we waited until we were saved'. More impressive, too.

He stood. "I'll see if I can get some grass or something that we can use to, ah, cover the ground inside a tent," he told Granger. As Sirius had told him: 'Don't sleep in sand; it gets everywhere.'

"Good idea," she said - frowning and sounding like she'd rather get hexed than admit that.

Chuckling, he made his way over to the treeline. Perhaps a few big leaves would do - enlarge them and you wouldn't need many of them to form a sort of carpet. Though they would have to replace them often - Harry didn't want to sleep on dry leaves.

He looked at the palm trees. Those leaves, if properly enlarged, could actually serve as covers, too. He raised his wand. "Accio leaf!"

It tore apart, half landing on his head, half staying up. He quickly checked if Granger had noticed, but she was still busy making poles. Probably trying to make identical poles because anything else wasn't good enough.

Well, summoning didn't work, but there were other options. Like a Cutting Charm. Although…

He looked around. Perhaps there was a tree that wasn't quite as high?

There was. There was a smaller tree a little further into what passed as a forest here. Next to a few toppled trees.

He blinked. Toppled trees? That happened, of course. But a group of them bunched together like that?

That looked odd.

Harry gripped his wand a bit more tightly and walked over to the not so clear clearing. Up close, it looked even weirder. The trees hadn't been toppled, roots and all - they had been broken off. Could a storm do that? Break some trees, close together, and leave the rest standing?

And the trees were fresh - the leaves were still green. Greenish. If a storm strong enough to do that had hit the island a short time ago, shouldn't there be more stuff on the ground?

And what was with the tree that had been shredded? He cocked his head and then froze for a moment.

This looked familiar. Where had he seen it before?

He gasped when he remembered where he had seen similarly shredded trees:

In the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary where Ron's brother Charlie worked.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 3: The Monster

Little Whinging, Surrey, Britain, July 6th, 1996

"Auntie Lily!"

"Hi, Dudley."

Lily Potter winced as her nephew turned around and yelled loud enough to wake the dead: "Mum! Auntie Lily's here!"

Petunia's head appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "Lily?" She sounded surprised.

"I was in the neighbourhood and decided to visit," Lily told her. A lie, of course - but then again, for a witch who had mastered Apparition and didn't depend on the Floo Network or even brooms, all of England was 'in the neighbourhood'.

"Come in, come in! I've just put on the kettle."

"Thank you." Lily knew that Petunia hadn't just put on the kettle, of course. It was a Saturday, so she would receive her friends for tea in an hour. But as Petunia didn't call her out about her lie, Lily didn't do so either. They knew each other. Just as Lily knew that Vernon would be golfing right now. And Petunia wouldn't ask about Lily's work as a spellcrafter.

"Harry isn't with you?" Dudley asked as she sat down in Petunia's living room. "I've got a new game I wanted to show him." He pouted.

"No, he was meeting Ron in Diagon Alley. They were buying school supplies, I think." Another lie. Unless one counted prank items as school supplies. Lily kept smiling even though she really wanted to sigh - if only Harry would grow up! He could do so much better if he didn't waste his time and energy on that pointless feud.

"Oh." Dudley frowned. "Boring then."

"Yes," Petunia agreed as she set down the tea service. "Though I'm sure they'll visit later."

"Today?" Dudley perked up again.

"Probably not," Petunia said, pouring tea into their cups. "It takes a long time to buy all the things needed for Hogwarts."

Lily nodded. In an hour, Petunia's friends would arrive, and then Vernon would return. And that would be a bad time for Harry to visit - especially if Ron was with him.

"Can they apparate already?" Dudley asked.

Both Lily and Petunia tensed. "No, that takes a lot of lessons," Lily replied. "It's dangerous until you've got your licence."

"Like driving?"

"More dangerous," Petunia said. "You don't tend to leave your head behind when driving."

"Unless you hit a metal beam at the right height!" Dudley grinned. Of course, he wouldn't be impressed by gruesome tales of splinched body parts. Unlike his mother.

"Dudley! That's not a joking matter!" Petunia scolded him.

He frowned for a moment, then shrugged and started to devour the scones.

"Don't ruin your appetite," Petunia told him. "Dinner's at seven."

Dudley mumbled something unintelligible with his mouth full. He swallowed, then stood. "I'm going to play for a bit, Mum, Auntie. Tell Harry I've got a new game - a new shooter - OK?"

"I will," Lily said. And she would - Dudley would check with Harry. But as soon as she heard the door to Dudley's room close, she sighed and looked at Petunia.

"They're just games," her sister told her. "No one's getting a face full of boils from computer games."

So news of Harry's greatest misdeed this year had spread already. He must have told Dudley. "I've taken his Cloak away," Lily said.

"About time," Petunia replied. "The way you let him run wild like that…"

This was an old argument. But Lily refrained from bringing up Dudley's misdeeds. Perhaps computer games were good for her nephew. "I do what I can. But I can't do much when he's at Hogwarts."

Petunia nodded. "What about James's friend? Isn't he a teacher there?"

Lily sighed. "Remus can't be everywhere." She suspected her friend could do more, but then, Remus had been far too lenient with James and the others when he was a prefect - and they had done worse on occasion.

"I'm so glad Smeltings doesn't tolerate such tomfoolery."

Lily smiled. "Dudley told me about the 'fencing matches'."

Petunia hid her frown behind her cup. "That's not the same as cursing someone."

"No one's cursing anyone," Lily corrected her. Her sister knew the differences between hexes, jinxes and curses perfectly well - she had quizzed Lily on them when she had been doing her homework for Hogwarts. "And the matron is very good at removing hexes and jinxes. It's not the same as being sent to the hospital."

"Ah." Petunia nodded. "So, how's Rose doing?" she asked with a smile.

Lily returned the smile. Honestly, this time. "She's doing well. Very good marks in her exams, so we're looking forward to her O.W.L.s. And she's grown again, so we've had to adjust her clothes."

"Ah. Convenient."

Lily shrugged and took a sip from her tea. "She's got a new pet, too. A Pygmy Puff."

"The same creature that Dudley wanted so badly a few years ago?"

"Smaller," Lily said.

Petunia nodded, and they both sipped from their cups.

"So, what did Harry do this time?" Petunia asked. "You wouldn't have been in the neighbourhood if you didn't want to talk about something."

Lily chuckled humourlessly. Petunia knew her well indeed. "He made Gryffindor lose the House Cup and is already buying prank items for next year. I swear, he never learns."

Her sister shook her head. "And James is still insisting that he'll grow out of it?"

"James says he was the same at his age."

"I pity the girl, then." Petunia refilled her cup.

"Don't," Lily told her. "She's as guilty as Harry." Minerva had been clear about that.

Petunia shrugged. "A boy shouldn't attack a girl."

"Things are different at Hogwarts," Lily replied. The Wizarding World wasn't perfect - far from it! Lily was very much aware of how many faults Wizarding Britain had. But sexism wasn't amongst them. Petunia, though, had been raised that way: Boys didn't hit girls. And she had raised Dudley that way. "Besides, half the time, she attacks Harry." And both thought they had to get even, if Lily's impression was correct.

Petunia shook her head. "Perhaps they should settle their difference with a game."

They'd hex each other before the game even started. And again once one of them lost. But Lily nodded. Petunia was trying to help, in her own way. And, speaking of helping… "So, how is your garden doing?"

"Oh, great!" Petunia smiled brightly. "The flower beds are perfect this year. I might win the competition - as long as the herbs grow nicely and the tomatoes ripen at the right time."

Lily didn't offer magical help. Her sister had her pride. And, Lily had to admit, Petunia was good at gardening.

*****​

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 6th, 1996

"So, how was your visit to my dear sister-in-law?" James asked as soon as Lily entered their home.

"The same as usual," she replied.

"You two verbally fenced, you vented, she made snide remarks about our friends and me and you ended up talking plants?"

"More or less." She smiled as she took a seat on the couch, kicked off her low-heeled shoes and lay down.

He shook his head. He was wearing his Auror robes, she noted. "Was there an emergency at work and they called you in?"

"No, no. I just couldn't find my apron. And since my robes are charmed against fire…" He grinned.

She sighed. "Rose must have taken it. Potions homework."

"Ah." He nodded, lifted her feet and sat down on the couch. Dropping her feet on his lap, he added: "I'll have to buy a new one, then."

She nodded in agreement. Rose was far more mature than Harry. She was also as talented. And hard-working. But she tended to be a little hard on her tools when working with potions. The girl was, in her own way, as stubborn as her brother - she continued to attempt new recipes despite regular setbacks. "I should never have told her about Severus," Lily muttered.

"Yes," James agreed.

She glared at him. "You know how I meant it."

"I still hope you'll come to your senses."

She huffed. And this was where her children's stubbornness came from. "Really, it's been almost twenty years. Not even I hold a grudge that long. It's time…" She trailed off when the flames in the fireplace turned green, but no one stepped out of it.

"Harry? Lily? James? Rose?"

That was Ron. She sat up and flicked her wand, unsealing the fireplace. "Come through, Ron!" she said. She didn't lower her wand, of course. And neither did James. Old habits died hard. Very hard.

A moment later, Ron stepped into their living room. "Hi, Lily. Hi, James. Is Harry here?"

After resealing the fireplace, Lily frowned. "He's supposed to be with you."

"Oh." Ron grimaced. "Well, he left to visit my brothers' shop. We were supposed to meet afterwards, but he never showed up."

"How long ago was that?" James asked.

"Uh…" Ron glanced at the clock on the wall. "Two hours since he left? One and a half until he should've been back?"

"You waited one and a half hours for him?" Lily asked. That wasn't normal.

"Ah… I met Lavender."

That explained it. But it didn't explain where Harry was. The boy had some explaining to do. Lily waved her wand and conjured a Patronus Messenger. "Harry! Where are you? Ron's waiting for you in our living room!" She flicked her wand, sending the translucent doe on her way.

Only the doe didn't leave. It looked confused - as much as a spell could look confused - as it walked in a circle.

Lily froze. Her spell couldn't find her son? No… That was impossible.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

"Granger! Granger!"

Hermione Granger rolled her eyes as she turned to look over her shoulder. She was just about finished with the poles for the tents. What was Potter's problem? He was running full tilt towards her.

"We've got problems! Big problems!"

"You've just realised that?" Typical! She'd been telling the git that they had to prepare for the worst.

"No! I mean, yes - but it's not what you're thinking!"

"And how would you know what I'm thinking?" He wasn't a Legilimens.

"Because you keep telling everyone what you think, all the time?"

"I only have to repeat myself to those who don't listen," she replied. Such as Potter.

The git clenched his teeth. "Really…" He took a deep breath. "Look, we've got trouble - trouble the size of a dragon!"

"What?" She stared at him. He couldn't be implying what she thought he was implying. "You saw a dragon?"

"Something the size of an adult dragon," he replied. "Well, traces of it."

"Really." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Like when you saw a dragon in the Forbidden Forest?"

"No!" He glared at her. "Come and take a look if you don't believe me!"

"Oh, I will!" she told him. And she'd be ready for any of his stupid pranks.

"Follow me, then!" He grabbed his robes and folded them.

"Gladly." As if she'd let him walk behind her.

He led her across the beach, into the forest - a little way away from where she'd picked her coconut.

And then she stared at the small clearing. The way the trees had been scratched - clawed - and ripped out...

"See? I wasn't making things up."

"Quiet!" she snapped. He didn't have to rub it in - as if anyone would expect her to trust him after everything he'd said and done.

She knelt down at the base of a fallen palm tree and looked at the roots. Uprooted. And the claw marks… this had to have been a huge, ferocious monster. She swallowed and fought the urge to run away. She was better than that. She was a Gryffindor. And she also knew that hasty, panicked actions weren't the answer to any problem. "You think this was the work of a dragon?" she asked after a few deep breaths.

"No, of course not. I said 'something the size of a dragon," he told her, rolling his eyes before looking at the sky again. "There's no trace of fire here. Nothing was burnt."

He was right - dragons loved to set things on fire. "That's indeed unusual behaviour for a dragon. But the claw marks…" She pointed at a shredded tree. "There aren't many creatures with claws large enough to do this."

"And there's this," he said, pointing at the ground.

There was half a track there. Of a big three-toed foot with claws. She pointed her wand at it and cast a spell. "It weighed a great deal, relatively speaking."

"It was flying, though," he told her. "The trees outside the clearing aren't damaged."

"That doesn't mean that it flew away - we don't know how big it is. It could've fit perfectly fine between the trees," she pointed out. "Or it could've apparated."

"But the canopies are damaged here," he said, pointing upwards. "Like from wing strokes."

"That's true. Which means we can estimate the wingspan." She did a quick mental estimate. And didn't like what she came up with."If we take the lack of burnt soil and vegetation at face value and so exclude dragons, then that leaves precious few other creatures which can reach this sort of size. Wyverns. Rocs. Feathered Serpents, but they don't have claws.."

"And all of them are known to attack and eat humans," he said. "We don't need to know exactly what did this - we need to find a cave or something to hide in."

"Without knowing what sort of creature we're dealing with, we can't choose the correct response;" she retorted.

"Granger!" he snapped. "This isn't some stupid test! We don't need to find the perfect answer - we need to hide first, so we don't get eaten!"

"And we can't hide if we don't know what senses the creature has and in what sort of place it makes its lair - and how much it can contort its body! If it is as agile as some animals it might be able to slither through very narrow cracks - or into narrow caves!"

"Well, I don't see any feathers here - and it would've left some from striking the trees with its wings!" he retorted.

She nodded. All the known feathered magical creatures were constantly replacing their feathers. Hippogriffs shed so many, Luna had a pillow filled with them. "See? We're making progress."

"Oh, damn it, Granger, we're…"

A roar interrupted him, and both of them froze. "That was…" she trailed off.

"It came from the mountain," he said.

They looked at each other.

"We need to hide," he said.

He was right, damn it. They needed to hide. Quickly.

*****​

"Come on!" Harry Potter said through clenched teeth. "We need to hide!" If Granger didn't move, he'd drag her with him - or he'd float her. They'd leave no tracks that way. He pulled his shirt off, then stuck his folded robes to the back of it and put it on again. Instant backpack!

"We're under the trees already," she repeated - but she was moving, at last.

"Those won't be enough," he retorted. Not against a flying predator - Hedwig could spot a mouse in thick grass without problems. And could snap it up in a heartbeat.

"Alright," Granger replied, waving her wand. What was she casting?

"Such flying creatures usually hunt by sight. Cast a Disillusionment Charm on us! I'll be able to follow you with my Human-presence-revealing Charm, so we won't get separated."

Oh. He grimaced. "I don't know that spell."

"What?" She gasped. "But… you're always sneaking around! No prefect's ever caught you! I learned to cast this charm just to finally be able to spot you!"

Good luck trying that charm against his Cloak! Well, technically Dad's. Which Mum had taken away. "I don't use a Disillusionment Charm."

She clenched her teeth. "Well, whatever method you use, do it now, before we get noticed!"

"I don't have it on me," he said.

"What?" She shook her head. "Typical! Always relying on your money!"

Oh, for… "There was no need to learn that spell, so I learned other spells instead!" He checked the sky. "And this isn't the time to have a row! We need to hide!"

"That's what I was saying. We need to hide from an aerial predator. A cave would be best, but we might have to settle for an overhang."

Did she ever stop talking like she was lecturing someone? "I doubt we'll find either on a sandy beach," he told her. "We'll have a better chance if we go further inland, where the jungle starts."

"That's the direction of the monster," she said.

"Yes." He swallowed the insult on his tongue. "But it's also the best spot to hide. If we go looking for a cave or overhang on the beach, it'll be easy to spot us from the air."

"Let's go, then," she said. "But if we get eaten by a monster, my last words will be 'I told you so'."

He snorted despite himself, even though he couldn't tell whether or not Granger was joking. That would be so very… her, to say such a thing.

They made their way through the palm forest - if you could call the scattered trees that - until they reached the actual jungle. Harry stumbled several times, trying to keep an eye on the sky. If a flying monster appeared… well, most of his duelling spells would be useless. A creature that size needed spells that were banned from duelling. Or useless in duelling. A Shield Charm might protect them against the first attack but wouldn't last long. But… well, at least his Shield Charm would hold. Granger's was worse. And she wasn't as good a duellist as he was. And… He clenched his teeth. Between the two of them, he had the better chance of surviving an attack. Which meant he would have to ensure the monster attacked him. Dad would do the same. Even for Granger.

"If we get spotted, I'll attract its attention. You look for a spot to hide." He didn't look at her as he spoke.

"What?" she hissed, panting. "Are you planning to sacrifice yourself?"

"No." Not really. Depending on what exactly they were dealing with, he had a chance of defeating it. And not having to worry about Granger would help.

"Of course you are, you idiot!" She scoffed, then gasped when she slipped on a particularly large root. "All you'd do was give it a taste for human flesh."

"And what would you do? Try to lecture it to death?" He spat. They were now in the jungle, and walking was difficult with all the underbrush getting in their way.

"Ha ha ha." She huffed and panted a little more. "No, I'd attempt to distract it without getting killed in the process."

"You said it - 'attempt'." And she'd fail. He used a Cutting Charm to remove a low-hanging branch that resisted being pushed away. Something skittered under the next tree.

"It's still a better idea than feeding yourself to it! Really…"

He turned to look at her.

"Oh! I've got the solution!" She beamed at him. Without the sweat running down her face, she would probably have looked smug. "We'll distract it - should it spot us - with fish! Enlarged fish! Unless this island is much larger than it appears, a creature of that size wouldn't find enough prey inland - not in the long run - so it'll likely hunt maritime creatures, too."

That was… actually not a bad idea. "And where will we get the fish?"

And now she was frowning at him again, as if that flaw in her plan was his fault!

*****​

Where would they get fish? That was a good question, Hermione Granger had to admit. Even if Potter was the one asking it. Fortunately, she had an answer. Of sorts. "We can summon fish."

"You've seen a fish?" Potter asked. "Because you can't just raise your wand and summon something you haven't seen even once."

She rolled her eyes. The git was quoting theory? To her? "I didn't mean that we could summon fish here. We'll have to find some, first."

"And where would we do that? If we head to the beach to look for fish in the shallows, we'll be exposed to the monster."

She looked up at the sky to check that the monster wasn't already out hunting. "Of course not," she retorted. "But this is a sizable island with a lot of vegetation; there should be some streams or ponds somewhere, which should contain fish."

"That's a lot of 'shoulds'," he commented.

"It's two, actually," she corrected him.

"Two rather crucial 'shoulds', then," he shot back with a frown.

"So? Do you have a better idea? Except for playing bait and hoping your body will feed it enough so it won't hunt until help arrives?" Really, did Potter have a death wish? 'Bait Who Lived' wasn't supposed to be taken seriously.

He didn't have an answer for that, of course. He tried anyway. "We could burrow. Use the Vanishing Spell to dig a hole and hide in it. Use foliage and branches to cover the top."

"And hope that the creature doesn't smell or hear us." She shook her head. "Let's call that plan B."

"And with your plan, we need to hope that the creature eats fish." He stared at her for a moment, then looked up.

She followed his example. The sky was still clear. "Most predators can and will eat fish."

"Muggle animals, maybe. Magical creatures can have much more restricted diets."

"Can you name examples that aren't small, specialised species such as the Frog-Eating Ghostsnake?"

"We don't know what we're dealing with."

"Exactly. So it's logical to go with what we know generally applies to large airborne predators: that they eat all kinds of meat and fish."

"Fish we haven't yet found."

"Fish we might've found if you'd stop questioning everything." Really!

"Says the witch whose right arm is paler than her left because she's always raising it to ask questions."

She clenched her teeth. "As you were so fond of reminding me earlier: We aren't at school. Now let's go look for some water!"

"Not without some leaves we can use as cover!" Without waiting for her reply, he turned and cut a few palm fronds.

"Is that everything, or do you want to take some sand and earth with us into which we can burrow, just in case that we should end up on a rock?"

He frowned as if he was actually considering it. Honestly! "Let's go!" she said. "If there are streams, they'll likely run down the hillside."

"It might actually be a mountain," he said. "It looks tall enough."

She glanced at him. He was smirking. The damn git had no sense of priorities!

Shaking her head, she started walking towards the hill. And tried to keep an eye on the sky as much as possible. She didn't want to end up as food for a monster.

"Let me take the lead," he said. "There could be snakes and other venomous animals."

"I'm quite proficient with all sorts of anti-venom and anti-poison spells," she told him. Which he should know since she had learned them to deal with his pranks.

"Well, then I should go first so you can heal me if anything happens!" He grinned at her.

"If you insist on playing bait, be my guest." She sketched a bow and gestured towards the hill.

"Thank you."

His smile looked as insincere as hers. She was about to comment on that, but another roar interrupted her.

"Uh…" He looked over his shoulder.

"Let's go!" she told him.

*****​

Another roar. Harry Potter froze - some predators could only see you if you moved; at least that's what Hagrid had taught them, and Jurassic Park agreed. But the sky was still clear. Well, except for a few birds. What was the monster doing? Why did animals roar? As a threat display, mostly, if he remembered correctly. And for communication. Was there another monster around? Were they hearing two creatures trying to intimidate each other? Or was that a mating call?

Ugh. Either way, it was bad news. Unless this was some harmless small animal that could use an Amplification Charm-like power, it was a very big, very angry creature. And they were walking towards it because Granger had a plan.

Well, it wasn't a bad plan. But it wasn't a good plan, either. Though as Remus had taught them in Defence: In an emergency, it was usually better to do something than nothing. Harry hoped that this wasn't an exception. How long did it take for his parents to notice that he was missing, anyway? Usually, they sent a Patronus Messenger - which would then arrive at the worst possible moment.

Damn. He really hoped that the monster wouldn't end up being led to them by a glowing flying stag or doe - especially one which was shouting at him...

He shook his head. He couldn't dwell on that. If they found fish before that, then they could feed the monster as a distraction. Not many creatures would go after prey if they had food already. Too much of a risk of getting hurt for nothing.

There were creatures, though, which would do such a thing. Those which didn't expect to be hurt by anything. The ones which were too dumb to realise humans - wizards - were dangerous. And those which had killed wizards before. Like dragons.

But this creature wasn't a dragon. No trace of any fire breathing. Charlie had been very clear about dragons and fire. Not much that could burn was left around their lairs. Which was, now that he came to think of it, kind of self-destructive - it meant their lairs would be easy to find.

Then again, a dragon would probably encourage its meals to come to it, instead of having to hunt them down.

He brushed another branch away, then gasped and jumped back when something hissed at him - a snake!

"Snake!" he yelled, staring at the animal. It was brown. Wrapped around the branch, it looked just like a part of the tree. And it was hissing, baring its fangs at him.

"What? Did it bite you?" Granger was there, pointing her wand at him. "I don't detect any poison."

"It didn't bite me," he told her. As if he'd let a snake bite him - he had Seeker's reflexes!

"Ah." She nodded and took a step back. "That's a threat display."

"I know."

"I don't recognise the species, though," she went on.

"Are you a snake expert?" he asked.

"No." She sounded as if she was embarrassed that she wasn't. "But I've read up on them."

"Not enough, then. Let's go." The monster, whatever it was, wouldn't stay in its lair forever.

She huffed but - for once - didn't answer back, and they gave the snake a wide berth as they continued their trek towards the hill.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived at the foot of the hill, where the hillside started to become steeper, and the trees became scarcer. "I don't see any water," Harry said.

"We'll circle it."

"Clockwise," he said. That would, unless his ears were deceiving him, take them away from the monster - or, at least, not as close towards it as the alternative. "And let's get back into the denser forest."

She groaned in response.

He glanced at her. She was quite flushed - and sweaty. Of course, she wasn't in good shape, so she'd tire faster than Harry. But wearing her robes didn't help. "Perhaps you should ditch the robes," he told her.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," he pointed out - she looked like she'd suffer heatstroke if she didn't rest.

"Why, thank you," she spat.

"My pleasure," he retorted. Damn, she couldn't even accept some helpful advice, could she?

"Let's go."

*****​

Hermione Granger took deep breaths as she followed Potter. She was hot - far too hot. But ditching her robes… No. Her robes weren't enchanted, but the material was still quite tough. Snakes and other animals would have trouble biting her through it. And that was worth a little heat.

Although she should still take a few precautions anyway. If she succumbed to heatstroke, that would be a calamity. She pointed her wand at her head. "Aguamenti!"

Ah. The stream of cool water hitting her felt like heaven. She closed her eyes for a moment and drenched her face. Washed the sweat away. Damn. She'd forgotten about that. Salt. They needed salt as well.

"What are you doing?"

Wasn't it obvious? "Cooling off," she replied. Then she took a few sips - mouthfuls - of water.

"Watch out that you don't chafe," he said. "Wet clothes aren't ideal for sports."

"I know." She let the water hit her face again and sighed. "Ah." That felt good. When she opened her eyes, she found Potter staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing."

She rolled her eyes. Whatever.

"I just thought… we could make a stream," he went on, chuckling.

She laughed, even though it wasn't that funny. "We'll need seawater, too," she told him. "So we can get the salt we're sweating out here."

He blinked. "Right. That'll be…"

"...easy. We just need a vessel and a drying charm."

"Right. Use a coconut shell as a container?"

"Yes." She nodded. "And then we enlarge it."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Plan C. We still need to find fish." She smiled. He got it.

"Right." He turned and continued walking, cutting a branch away with a quick charm, then ducking when it fell.

"I can take the lead," she offered.

"We went over that. You're better at fixing me up."

She pressed her lips together. That didn't mean he had to take all the risks. Well, it sort of did - it was logical, after all. But it felt wrong. She didn't want to hide behind him. And if he actually sacrificed himself for her… Well, she wouldn't let him do that.

They continued their walk. The underbrush here, at the edge of the jungle, was far denser, though, and her robes kept snagging on branches or even the trunks of the smaller trees. It was getting annoying. And Potter's raised eyebrows whenever he turned to wait for her weren't helping.

Hermione tried her best to ignore both annoyances. But it was hard. As hard as ignoring the nagging fear that she'd be caught by the monster in this underbrush like a fly in a spider's web.

"You know, you're trying too hard."

She glared at him. "What?"

"With your robes. You won't stop being a witch if you wear something more suitable for the jungle, you know," Potter said.

"Right. Give me a moment, and I'll pull my khakis and pith helmet out of my travelling wardrobe," she shot back. Before he could say anything, she added: "And no, I don't have a travelling wardrobe." Oh, if Potter had some enchanted shrunken extended wardrobe, she'd…

"Well, if you can't dress up as Jane you can always dress up as Tarzan." He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes at him. "'King of the Apes' sounds like your role." He was certainly acting the part.

He frowned in return. Didn't like his stupid 'joke' being turned back on him, huh?

"Jokes aside, if we get discovered by the monster, you won't be able to run far in those robes," he said after a moment.

"I'm aware of that," she told him.

"Really? And why are you still wearing your robes, then? Are you planning to play bait?" The way he scoffed at the notion told her that he had taken her earlier remarks personally.

"No," she spat. "I wouldn't want to infringe on your chosen role!"

"Granger, don't be stupid! Drop the damn robes! If you're nude under them, you can have my shirt."

"How generous." She scoffed. "How about we move further into the jungle, where the foliage isn't as dense," she retorted. "I was fine until we hit the edge of the forest here."

"You have a loose definition of 'fine'. Really, your behaviour makes no sense."

"My robes protect me from stings and bites."

"Just cast the spells on yourself."

"There aren't any spells on them. It's the fabric," she told him. "It's sturdier than my other clothes." And certainly tougher than her skin.

"So you are in your underwear beneath your robes!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Then what's the problem? If you're afraid of bugs, I can cast a bug-repelling charm on you."

"I can cast that myself." She clenched her teeth. The git wouldn't stop, despite the urgency of their situation. Fine! She gripped her robes and pulled them up until she could grab their hem, then pulled them over her head. A quick wave of her wand later, she was protected by an Insect-Repelling Charm.

That still left her robes themselves to deal with. Folded or bunched up, they were rather unwieldy. How could she…? Ah. She rolled them up and stuck the ends together with a spell, forming a sort of voluminous sash. Like the way that some soldiers used to carry their blankets.

She'd still get her legs scratched - but she knew that was inevitable. She should never have let Lavender talk her into wearing short shorts and a sleeveless top… Well, she shouldn't have told her friend about such clothes. Or shown her pictures.

She'd have to cast dozens of healing charms later.

*****​

Harry Potter stared. Granger in short shorts and a flimsy top was the last thing he had expected to see. Well, the second to last thing. And she wasn't nearly as plump as he had expected from a bookworm. In fact, her legs were... Damn, he was staring. Instead of keeping an eye out for monsters! And it was Granger.

Damn.

He turned and checked the sky, then the forest. No sign of a monster. Or any dangerous animals.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go on!" Granger complained.

"Right," he replied. He glanced over his shoulder. Just to check that she wasn't carrying her robes in her arms or something. She wasn't.

That was actually a clever solution. Perhaps better than what he had done with his own robes, which were folded and stuck to the back of his shirt… No. His clothes granted better freedom of movement. And that was crucial in a fight. Any fight. Especially against monsters.

Or animals. Couldn't forget them. This was a jungle on a magical island. They had already seen a snake, but there would be more animals hiding here. Such as… "A frog?"

Granger was at his side instantly. "A frog? Frogs are amphibians! That means there should be water around for them to breed. Where is it?"

He pointed at the small animal perched on a leaf.

"Oh, there it is." She crouched and peered at it as if they were in a lesson with Hagrid. No - she'd be cautious in that case.

"We should be close to a body of water - they won't travel too far from water, I think."

"Well, onward then," Harry said.

But instead of a stream they discovered a trail a little later. With more tracks.

"Those aren't the same tracks we saw before," Granger stated the obvious. "They're not only smaller but have one more toe."

"And one more claw," Harry added, pointing at the marks on the trunk nearby.

"Hard to tell what species they are just from these tracks. But they're about the size of a cat," she added.

"Harmless then," Harry concluded.

"They could be venomous. Or travel and hunt in packs. Or they could be magical."

He frowned at her. "You're such a ray of sunshine, Granger. Always lifting our spirits with your optimism."

"I'm merely cautious. If they are harmless we won't be, ah, harmed, but if they aren't, we'll be prepared."

"Like you were prepared to flee through the underbrush in your robes?"

He could see her clench her teeth. "At least the robes kept my legs from getting scratched."

He glanced at her legs without meaning to. They looked fine. Slightly scratched. No worse than his arms.

She cast a healing charm, and most of the scratches vanished.

"Doesn't seem like a serious problem," he commented.

"It hurts and is distracting," she replied.

He snorted. "Don't let yourself get distracted then." A good duellist had to be able to ignore pain - to an extent, anyway. And other distractions.

"I'll just have to imagine the scratches are you, then."

"You think I'm a distraction?" He raised his eyebrows at her for effect.

"Not in that sense," she spat.

"'That sense'?" He grinned. "What are you thinking about?"

She rolled her eyes. "About finding water and summoning fish so we won't get eaten by a giant flying monster. What are you thinking about?"

How much longer his parents' Patronus Messengers would take. But he didn't say that. "How to reach that water without getting lost in the jungle."

"Then kindly get on with it," she snapped.

He sighed and started walking again.

They reached a small stream a few minutes later. Granger had been right about the frog not being far from water.

And there was even a small pond with a waterfall at the foot of the hill. Not large, but tall enough to serve as a shower. And… "Is that a cave behind the water?"

She squinted at the waterfall. "It looks like it."

Harry grinned. Just like in some of Dudley's games. "Let's explore it!"

"Wait!" Granger protested. "It's probably occupied!"

That was a good point. Although…

The familiar roar interrupted his thoughts. It sounded closer than before - much closer.

No… He looked up and saw wide wings flap in the sky above. "It's hunting!" he snapped. And they were out of cover.

"Into the cave!" Granger yelled. "Quickly!"

Above them, the monster - it looked like a sort of dragon - circled round.

It had seen them.

"Run!"

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 4: The Cave

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 6th, 1996

"What's wrong?" James Potter asked as he stared at the glowing doe. Lily couldn't have miscast, could she? No - his wife was brilliant. One of the best spellcrafters in Britain. And she knew how to cast the Patronus Charm. If you could cast the charm in the presence of a horde of Dementors - which he could as well - you could cast it any time, anywhere. So what was…

"No!" Lily waved her wand, and the doe vanished. "Expecto patronum!" She all but shouted the incantation.

Once more, the glowing doe appeared. "Harry! Where are you?"

And once again, the animal-like figure walked in a circle.

"No!" Lily shook her head. "James - the spell can't find Harry!"

No! James drew his wand. "Expecto patronum!"

His stag appeared - looking like his animagus form. "Harry, where are you?" James spoke, clearly and slowly, thinking of his son.

And his stag, too, didn't dash off, but turned, apparently confused.

"But… Harry can't be…" Ron said, shaking his head. "If the spell can't find him, is he…?"

Oh. "If he were dead," James told him, forcing himself to smile reassuringly, "then the spell wouldn't move at all." During the war, that had been one of the ways to check whether or not someone had been taken prisoner.

"So he's alive?"

"Yes." James nodded firmly. Harry was alive. His son was alive.

"But why doesn't the spell…" Ron gestured vaguely towards the window.

"Because Harry is magically hidden," Lily told the boy. She was looking furious now. "Someone's blocking our spells!"

"But… how is that possible? Your spells work fine at Hogwarts!" Ron said. "We've seen them often enough!"

"Hogwarts is unplottable, but not magically hidden," James explained. "It's just hidden from the muggles."

"Ah. But where could Harry be?"

"We don't know. When did you see him last?" James asked. He had to treat this like a normal case. A missing kid. Do it by the book. Even if the missing kid was his son.

"We were eating ice-cream at Fortescue's," Ron replied. "In Diagon Alley," the boy added as if James weren't familiar with Fortescue's - his and Lily's first date outside Hogsmeade had started there! "And he said he wanted to visit the twins' shop. You know…"

"We're familiar with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, yes," Lily said in a rather strained voice. "Very familiar. Did he actually visit the shop?"

"Uh… I didn't go and ask." Ron winced. "Sorry, but I forgot. I was with Lavender, and… Fred and George like to surprise us with their new products."

Merlin's beard, teenagers and their hormones! "I'll check with them," James snapped. "Lily…"

"I'll call the others. And the DMLE?"

James hesitated a moment before shaking his head. "Not yet. This might just be something the twins whipped up for a laugh." And as much as they would deserve to have the DMLE descend on them in force, James would rather not mobilise his colleagues for a prank by his son. Not again. He forced himself to smile. "We did worse back in the day, didn't we?"

Lily frowned but nodded. "But if he isn't there…"

"Then I'll inform the Department." James nodded, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, then stepped outside the house to apparate.

A moment later, he appeared in front of the shop that had managed to have quite the impact on his and Lily's lives in the short time it had existed: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Of course, if you counted the twins' mail-order business, the shop had been doing business for years.

He strode inside. A dragon rushed towards him, but a flick of his wand dispelled the charm animating it, and the stuffed toy fell to the ground.

"You're not supposed to damage the products!" one of the twins complained.

"You're not supposed to attack an Auror," James retorted. He was wearing his robes, after all - even if he wasn't, technically, on duty. But as Mad-Eye would say: An Auror was always on duty.

"Oh. Hello, Mr Potter! Welcome to our humble shop!" The boy flashed him a smile. "What's Harry done now?"

The other twin peered round the closest shelf. "Hello, Mr Potter! Whatever he's done, it wasn't our fault!"

James suppressed the urge to snap at them. "Did he visit the shop today?"

"Well, are you asking as an Auror or a parent? Because, you see, we value the privacy of our customers, and if we told on them to their parents, we would…"

"He's missing," James said. "Ron said he wanted to visit your shop."

"Oh." The twins looked at each other.

"I didn't see him today."

"Me either."

So, Harry never reached the shop. James pressed his lips together. This was now an official case. It was time to inform the office. And then comb the Alley for witnesses - one of the shopkeepers between Fortescue's and the twins' shop might've noticed Harry. It would be a pain to ask everyone, but that was what rookie Aurors were for. James blinked. The entrance to Knockturn Alley was along that route. Harry wouldn't have gone there, would he?

He groaned. Of course his son would've done exactly that - James had done the same at his age. Although he had gone with Sirius, not alone.

He shook his head. Office first, then he could start the search. And once James found his son he'd ground him for the rest of summer for making Lily and himself worry so much!

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

"Run!"

Potter didn't have to yell - Hermione Granger was running. Towards the waterfall. The pond in front of it. She knew it was wrong - movement attracted predators - but standing still and hoping the monster didn't spot her… She had to run.

"It's seen us!" Potter yelled.

"Run!" she told him. "Into the pond!" She jumped, diving into the water head first, at a shallow angle. As if she were at the public pool back home. But she wasn't. She wasn't wearing a bathing suit, but clothes. And her robes as a sash. And they slowed her down - she needed to swim for several strokes to reach the other end of the pond, at which point she surfaced. And looked up, despite knowing better.

The monster was circling - diving! She screamed and scrambled through the waterfall - then turned. Potter! The idiot was standing there, wand raised, casting spells. No!

She screamed again when she saw the monster dive at Potter - only to veer off when he sent a red spell - a Stunning Spell - at it. But it wasn't giving up - it was flying overhead, just waiting for Potter to stop casting and move.

She clenched her teeth, blinking. Potter wouldn't make it across the pond. The monster was too fast. And too big - it would pluck him out of the pond. It would have plucked them out of the pond, she realised, if Potter hadn't stayed and cast, holding it off. And now he would…

No! She took a deep breath and raised her trembling arm, aiming her wand at Potter. "Accio Potter's clothes!" she yelled, putting everything she had into the spell.

Potter yelped as he was suddenly yanked off his feet and pulled towards her. The monster dived, claws as long as swords spread, heading straight for him. Hermione saw it swoop in, saw its giant toothy maw open…

...and Potter slammed into her, bowling her over, and she was thrown backwards into the cave in a tangled mess of flailing limbs with him.

She hit the ground hard, with her back and her head, then had the breath driven out of her lungs when Potter landed on top of her.

Then the entire cave seemed to shake as the giant maw she had seen entered it, screeching and roaring. Hermione froze, staring at the thing, then screamed when it snapped shut, only a foot away from her leg.

She scrambled back as fast as she could until her back hit the cave's wall, trembling and panting, pointing her wand at the monster.

"Stupefy!" A red spell hit the monster's head; Potter had managed to cast - though he, too, was pressed against the wall, next to her.

"Stupefy!" Hermione followed his example. Her spell didn't do anything, either.

But the monster was now stuck - she could hear its claws scratching the stone outside, its wings beating against the water, its furious roaring...

And could smell its putrid breath - it stank of rotting meat. She shivered, fighting the urge to retch, and cast again. No effect.

"Those won't work on it!" Potter yelled.

Right. Like dragons. What did you do against dragons? Attack the eyes! Yes! But how? The eyes were barely visible behind the open maw, and the thing kept moving. Oh! Of course! She waved her wand and conjured a flock of birds, sending them to peck at the monster's eyes.

The thing roared even louder, shaking its head - and causing dust to fall from the ceiling - but the birds were too small for it, and, being conjured, not afraid at all.

A stone hit the snout, too - Potter had banished it at the monster, she realised. Then another stone followed. She copied him, grabbing a stone and banishing it at the monster - though hers just bounced off of the thing's skin. What else could she do? "Fire! We need fire to drive it off!" she blurted out. The monster couldn't breathe fire, so it would be afraid of it. Had to be. But how could they…?

"Incendio!" Potter yelled.

Half her birds burst into flames. She gasped - but before she could berate him, the monster screeched once more, then pulled back.

Oh.

She felt relief flood through her and sagged against the wall, panting and trembling. That had been… she had almost died. They had almost died.

*****​

Harry Potter's chest was heaving. He had almost died. He had almost died! He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering as he sat there on the cave floor and trembled. That had been… Damn. He swallowed, blinking, then wiped his eyes and face.

What had possessed him to stay and off hold the monster so Granger could escape? Bloody hell, he had almost been eaten alive for that! If Granger hadn't summoned him into the cave…

He shivered, hugging his knees. He had almost died.

Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths. He had to calm down. He was alive. And so was Granger. And they were safe - relatively safe - from the monster. It couldn't get to them in this cave.

He rubbed his arm with his free hand - there was no way he was letting go of his wand - then ran it through his hair. Damn. "That was close." He could speak without squeaking. Good.

Granger made a noise that sounded like she agreed.

"Did you see the monster? It looked like…" What did it look like? Bat wings, four limbs, reptilian snout - with a huge, toothy maw! He shivered again. "It's a wyvern," he said.

"A wyvern? They aren't native to the tropics," Granger replied.

Harry laughed. That was just like the swot.

After a moment, Granger laughed as well, though it sounded, well… slightly hysterical. Or something.

"Thank you," he told her.

"Thank you," she told him.

They sat in silence for about a minute, staring at the cave's entrance and the waterfall behind it. The waterfall let in just enough sunlight that they didn't need magical lighting to look around. Harry mentally marked the point that the monster's snout had reached. Then he pointed his wand and cast a few Paint-Throwing Hexes at it, creating a line. "Don't cross that line."

"I've got no intention of doing so," Granger replied. "The monster will likely wait outside for a while."

"It's a wyvern," he told her. "I've never seen one in the flesh before, but it matches the pictures." Though they failed to capture just how utterly terrifying and big the thing was when it was trying to eat you.

He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breaths. He had the shakes, worse than after that Seeker duel against Cedric, the one that had seen them both narrowly avoiding a crash multiple times.

"It could be a similar yet rare or unknown species," Granger insisted.

She sounded like Luna. Normally, Harry would just nod and smile and change the subject, but this was important. Deadly important - if they misjudged the monster, they would end up killed by it. "It looked like a wyvern, and it acted like one." He snorted. "It didn't go after fish."

"It might prefer other prey - but I doubt that it can sustain itself entirely on land-based prey here. We haven't seen any signs of larger herbivores, have we?"

"Well, no matter what its regular diet might be, it preys on humans. Which means us," he retorted.

"It also means the island might be deserted," she said. "I doubt that a wizarding settlement would tolerate a man-eating monster like that in their vicinity."

He nodded. Even Luna would want such a beast to be moved away - although he suspected that the witch would want to protect the wyvern as much as or more than she wanted to protect the humans. Although… "If it's an island at all."

He glanced to the side and saw her press her lips together, frowning, before she nodded. Slowly and with obvious distaste. "Yes. We shouldn't assume that we're on an island until we've verified that. It could be a peninsula. In the tropics."

He rolled his eyes, then froze. Merlin's beard, he hoped that they weren't in Australia. Between the magical creatures there and the native wizards' well-known stance towards intruders, they would be as good as dead. Then again, according to Uncle Peter, they would have died on the beaches already if they were in Australia. To some muggle animals or plants.

He suddenly blinked, staring down at his chest. His shirt had a huge tear in it, and he hadn't noticed! He muttered a curse and pointed his wand at it. It took him a few tries to mend it, though. "My shirt almost ripped when you summoned it." And that would have dropped him into the pond.

"I summoned your clothes, not just your shirt."

"Ah." He noticed that she was shivering as well. From shock? Or was she cold? She was, after all, soaked to the bone and not wearing much. And it was colder inside the cave than outside in the sun. "So, you wanted to rip off my clothes, huh?" he said to lighten the mood.

"What? No!" she spat. "I wanted to save you! You were about to get eaten! And I did. Save you."

"So did I!" he shot back. "Save you, that is." Without him, she'd have been eaten in the pond. But… "Oh, damn!" he cursed.

"What?" she snapped.

"Life Debts." Damn.

"What? What are Life Debts?"

"You don't know what Life Debts are?" He stared at her.

"Would I be asking if I knew what you were talking about?"

"Ah."

*****​

Hermione Granger glared at the boy. He couldn't just tell her about this 'Life Debt' - no, he had to rub it in and act as if it was inconceivable that someone wouldn't know what it was! "So? What are Life Debts?"

"Ah. Well, if someone saves your life, especially if they risk their own life to do so, then you owe them a Life Debt," Potter said, which explained absolutely nothing.

"And what does that mean?" It didn't sound good at all. "Does it affect my credit score?" she joked, if only to rein in the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Your what?" He blinked.

"Don't worry, it's just a muggle thing about creditworthiness. Now, what are life debts?"

"Well, they're sort of… magical debts. The one you owe them to can ask you for a favour or a service."

That sounded even more disconcerting. She knew about magical contracts - which were enforced by curses.

"How can you tell if you owe someone a Life Debt?" she asked. "Is there a spell to check?"

"I don't know of any such spell. But… I probably saved your life when I held back the wyvern, and… well..." He shrugged.

"And you would have been eaten if I hadn't saved you," she retorted. "From that monster." She hadn't risked her life, though. Unlike what he had done.

"Wyvern."

"Whatever." She clenched her teeth. "So, we can't tell if a Life Debt was actually created. Or two."

"No."

"Do they cancel each other out? You saved me, I saved you, we're even? Or do we each owe the other a debt?" That wouldn't be too bad. Potter wouldn't dare order her to do something humiliating if she could retaliate. Mutually Assured Destruction worked.

"I don't know." He shrugged again.

"You don't know?" she snapped. How could he not know? This was important! Crucial! She wasn't about to end up in some magically enforced indentured servitude!

"I was eight when I heard my parents talking about them! I didn't exactly interrogate them about it - why would I?"

Typical! When she had been eight years old, Hermione had made lists of questions to ask her parents, usually after dinner! That had also generally moved her bedtime back at least half an hour, but that was beside the point. "I would've thought you would be interested in that sort of thing, what with you always risking your life whenever you mount a broom!" she told him.

"Ha ha."

She huffed. He couldn't take a joke. "So, we could have no debts because none were created, two debts if they didn't cancel each other out or just one."

"Pretty much, yes."

"And we can't tell. Not with magic. So, we have to experiment to find out." That was how science worked - experiment and examine the results. "Give me a command!"

"What? That's not how it works! You can't tell people to order you around to repay such a debt."

Dear Lord! "You said you didn't know how it worked."

"Well, I don't know how it works. But I know it doesn't work like that!"

"You don't know that!"

"Magic isn't that simple!"

She scoffed. "If you don't believe it'll work, then what do you have to lose?" And if Hermione was correct, then she'd discharge her debt through this experiment, too!

He frowned at her. "Only if you give me a command afterwards as well."

"Of course," she replied. "I have no intention of holding such a thing over anyone's head." Even if Potter might deserve it.

He snorted. Maybe she should order him to never prank her again. That would certainly be a boon for both of them.

"Now give me an order!"

"Stand on one leg and jump."

She pursed her lips. "I don't feel any compulsion to do so."

"See? I told you it doesn't work like that."

"Perhaps you didn't really mean the order. Intent is important in many spells," she told him. "Try again."

"Shut up!" he spat.

"No, that didn't work either." She bit her lower lip. Should she order him to never prank her again? No. "Hand me your wand!"

"What? No!" He gasped.

"So it doesn't work on you, either." She nodded.

"Merlin's beard, Granger! You don't demand someone's wand! It's just not done!" He shook his head at her, looking as if... as if she had tried to grope him.

Well, perhaps that was a wizard and wand thing. Or a pureblood boy thing. "That's why I used it to check whether you owe me a Life Debt."

He shook his head again. "That's…" He scoffed.

She had no time for this. "So… now we know we aren't beholden to each other and can't accidentally order each other around." That was important to know. Especially in their current situation.

"Whatever. Can we now focus on how to deal with the wyvern wanting to eat us?" he said. "It's probably out there, waiting for us to leave the cave so it can kill us!"

He was probably right - many creatures behaved like that. Crookshanks did, for example. "We can use your robes to make a decoy and see if it gets attacked."

"What? Why my robes? Why not yours?" he protested.

"Because I need them more than you need yours," she told him, pointing at her clothes.

Her wet clothes, she realised.

*****​

"Why would you need them more than…" Harry Potter trailed off when Granger suddenly turned away and cast a Drying Charm on her clothes. Ah. "Merlin's beard, Granger," he said. "Haven't you ever gone swimming?" Really, it wasn't as if she had been naked.

"It's not the same," she replied, without turning around. "Bathing suits are designed to get wet. Jeans aren't, no matter what stupid advertisements might show."

Ah. "Can't say I've seen any," he told her. But she had a point - his slacks and shirt were getting a little uncomfortable, now that he had the time - and was calm enough - to worry about such things. He cast a Drying Charm himself.

They sat in silence for a while as the hot air slowly dried their clothes.

Then Granger broke it, of course. "There should be a charm that simply removes - or evaporates - water from the target. That would be much faster than this."

He couldn't resist. "There is such a spell, actually - the Desiccation Curse. But it's a dark curse, so I don't think it'd be a good idea to use it on your clothes."

"Ha ha," she replied. "I see you've completely recovered your wits, or what passes for wits in your case."

He scoffed at her. "Speaking of recovering - can we now discuss why you want my robes?"

"I told you: to create a decoy that will let us check if the monster is lying in ambush for us without exposing ourselves."

"And why do you need my robes for that?"

"Because I'm not dressed to go without robes once the temperature starts falling," she retorted. He could clearly hear the unsaid "duh" - not that Granger would ever use such a simple word, of course. She would probably say something like 'you simpleton' or 'you dullard'.

"We don't even know if it'll get cold here," he told her.

"That's not a good reason to think it won't, but, instead, a good reason to prepare for the possibility," she said.

"In any case, why can't we just create a decoy wearing conjured robes?" he asked.

"Can you conjure school robes?"

"No." Why would he need to know how to do that, anyway?

"That answers your question," she told him in a clipped tone.

"I see. I guess it really is my fault." He nodded with a sigh.

"What? Your fault?"

"Yes. If I had ever used one of Uncle Peter's old clothing-dissolving potions, you'd probably have learned the spell." He smirked at her reaction.

"Oh, you…!" She shook her head. Her hair, freshly dried, whipped around her head.

He saw her quickly move her wand, and a moment later, her hair was braided - like the character from Dudley's games with the huge… Well, Granger's chest certainly didn't match her hairstyle. But… "So you do know hairstyling charms."

"Of course I do."

"You never use them!"

"Why should I?"

He blinked. "To look good?"

"Not everyone thinks appearances are important;" she retorted.

"But enough people do. You think you'll ever get a good job if you look like you don't even know the basic charms for keeping yourself presentable?" He had heard Dad complain about some of the recruits often enough, and those had been the ones accepted by the DMLE.

"As I said, I know lots of hairstyling charms. I won't have any trouble impressing a prospective employer," she told him with a sneer. "I simply don't see any reason to use them at Hogwarts."

"You're weird."

"Figures you'd think so. If you were an animagus, you'd be a peacock."

"And you'd be a shrew!" And he wouldn't be a peacock - he'd be something cool, like Dad. Or Uncle Sirius. Not like Uncle Peter, although if he could transform into something small, he could sneak into places like Uncle Peter. And he would become an animagus - Mum had made everyone promise not to teach him how to become an animagus before he turned sixteen, but that was only a few weeks away!

"How typical! As soon as a witch doesn't fawn over you, she's a shrew!"

"What? No!" She scoffed. "You're a shrew because you are…" He pressed his lips together. Some insults went too far.

"Yes?" She cocked her head at him.

"Because you act like one!" he finished.

She huffed in return. "Typical!" Shaking her head, she added: "Now let's focus on dealing with the imminent threat to our lives which may or may not be waiting outside."

"The wyvern." He nodded. "We'll have to kill it."

"Kill it?" She stared at him.

"Yes. Unless you want to be on your guard all the time until we're rescued and hardly stray from this cave." That would make it all but impossible to gather food. He scoffed. "We can't survive here if the wyvern is hunting us. It's us or the wyvern."

And as his parents had taught him: When it came down to you or the other guy, the choice was clear.

"And how do you suggest we achieve that?" she asked with a not so tiny sneer.

Well, that wasn't yet clear. But he was working on it.

*****​

Hermione Granger rolled her eyes. "You don't have a plan, do you?"

Potter frowned at her. "We've only just escaped the wyvern and recovered from almost dying. I don't see you having a plan ready already!"

"What? I had a plan to check whether the monster is waiting for us!" she protested. He was the one who didn't have a plan!

"Yes, yes - but that won't kill it." He blinked. "Although we can use that. We take the decoy you suggested and use it as bait. We stuff it full of spikes - with poison - and when the wyvern chomps down on it…" He grinned and made a cutting motion across his throat.

Could he be any more clichéd? "And where do you suggest we get the poison?" The spikes were easy - they could transfigure some wooden splinters and enlarge them, then use Sticking Charms to form a roughly spherical structure that would ensure that the spikes would penetrate the monster's mouth from any angle.

He frowned. "We could gather some ingredients and brew something poisonous."

Now he was reaching. She sniffed. "Have you seen any ingredients? We're on a tropical island, not in the Hogwarts greenhouses!"

"We can transfigure things into poison. Poisonous substances, at least, like lead," he replied.

He was right - they had learned how to transfigure iron into lead in Transfiguration. Mostly so they would understand why you couldn't transfigure lead into gold unless you had the Philosopher's Stone, but they could do it. But… "Lead poisoning takes a long time to affect someone - and heavy doses for such a large monster," she told him. "And if we transfigure the spikes into lead, they are less likely to actually penetrate the monster's skin deep enough to affect it. And we don't know if lead will actually harm the monster."

He looked at her as if the failure of his plan was her fault. It wasn't - she was merely pointing out its flaws.

"That still leaves us with spikes - barbed spikes. If we can get them stuck in its mouth, it'll be unable to eat."

That sounded… very cruel. She winced at the thought of an animal starving like that, with its mouth blocked by barbed steel, bleeding, probably getting the wounds infected… On the other hand, it had tried to eat them. "If it's a wyvern, as you believe, then it might be able to rip the spikes out and survive the wounds. They are supposed to have very tough skin, like dragons." Or so she remembered reading.

"But not quite as tough," he objected.

"But if we're using bait, then we're limited in how big the spikes can be," she pointed out. "You aren't exactly troll-sized."

"That's right." He narrowed his eyes, but not at her - he was looking at the waterfall. "Perhaps if we manage to lure it into a trap? We could use bigger spikes then. Anchor them in the ground."

"We would have to get out of the cave for that, first." And for that, they needed bait. She blinked. "Oh my God, I have an idea!"

"Yes?"

She glared at him. He didn't have to look so doubtful - it wasn't as if he'd had any useful ideas. "I can conjure a flock of birds. We can enlarge them and have them serve as bait to check whether the monster is waiting outside." Simple and easy. And they wouldn't have to sacrifice their robes for it.

"Good idea," he said, then blinked - as if he had been surprised by his own acknowledgement. Typical! "And we can have them carry leaden spikes or something."

Again with the lead. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he shrugged. "Even if it won't be enough to kill it, it might weaken it. We'll need any advantage we can get if we want to kill it. Which we have to."

She couldn't resist. "Unless your parents come and save us - they would be able to easily deal with a wyvern, wouldn't they?" She didn't bother hiding her sarcasm.

He scoffed. "Of course they would. They can handle dragons!"

Again with the boasting. Did she go around boasting about how many teeth her parents had fixed? No, she didn't. "And we need wood for the spikes," she said, making a point of looking round in the cave. "Unless you can transfigure stone to lead."

The way he scowled, he couldn't. She hadn't expected him to be able to, of course - that wasn't on the curriculum.

"Alright." He rose and pointed his wand at the waterfall.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Shhh. I need to focus," he snapped.

She pressed her lips together. The nerve of the boy! As if…

"Accio branch!" he shouted.

Accio branch? Did he really… well, if he had a specific branch in mind… but that would still require a lot of concentration. Perhaps he had been correct to tell her to be quiet - but he should've explained instead of just trying to order her to shut up!

And it didn't seem as if his Summoning Charm was working, anyway. No branch was…

Something broke through the waterfall, and she gasped and took a few steps back, raising her wand. But it was just a broken - no, a cut branch, she realised as she saw it land on the ground at his feet. He must have cut the branch on the way here. But that meant… "How far away was that branch?"

He grinned at her, far too smugly. "Quite far."

She rolled her eyes. Typical! He just couldn't be bothered answering a question properly! Always posturing!

*****​

Harry Potter shook his head. Merlin's beard, Granger was oozing envy from head to toe! She just couldn't stand the fact that he was better than she was at casting the Summoning Charm, could she?

"Start breaking it up into splinters," she told him - as if she could order him around! On the other hand, that was what he had been about to do anyway. Probably why she was doing it. He frowned at her while he used a few Severing Charms to split the branch up into smaller slices which he then could easily break into splinters, but she wasn't even looking at him.

Instead, she was conjuring birds. And hitting them with Engorgement Charms that enlarged them to the size of Hedwig. A swarm of those would be a pain to deal with… well, a Shield Charm should stop them, easily, but they would obscure his vision, and be ready to attack the moment the shield failed…

"Do you have the lead spikes ready yet?"

Couldn't she see that he was still creating wooden splinters? He looked at her, then at the wood.

She pursed her lips in return, then turned away rather than admit her mistake and sent her birds flying around herself, showing off.

Typical.

A few minutes later, they were ready. Two dozen snowy owl-sized birds were carrying spiky contraptions made of lead. "If the wyvern swallows them whole, which it probably will, that'll ruin its stomach," he said, smiling.

"We don't know if lead will actually harm a wyvern when ingested," she replied.

He grinned at her. "Do you finally admit that it's a wyvern?"

"Oh, grow up, Potter. We haven't confirmed its actual species yet."

"Lead tends to have a significant effect if shot at a target with sufficient speed," he pointed out.

"Do you have a gun?" She sighed. "Otherwise, that's just another impractical fantasy."

"Do you have to shoot down everything that's not your idea?" he shot back.

"No. Only the stupid proposals." She smiled at him with all the friendliness of a particularly angry and bushy cat. Wait… the expression was remarkably like the one her monster of a cat wore when Harry didn't open the door to the Gryffindor dorms for it.

He chuckled at that.

"What's so funny?" She narrowed her eyes at him as if that would intimidate him.

"Nothing," he told her, snorting.

"Oh, you…" She shook her head. "Let's send the birds out and find out if we have a monster lying in ambush for us."

"Alright."

She waved her wand, and the birds flew towards and then through the waterfall.

Harry squinted - the waterfall wasn't completely transparent, but it was clear enough that he would see a huge flying creature if it appeared in front of the falling water. "Keep them flying where we can see them," he said.

"Of course," she replied.

He wet his lips. The birds were flying around each other, but no wyvern appeared to gobble them up. About a minute passed, and the birds were still untouched. "Either the wyvern doesn't like to eat birds, or it has fallen asleep while waiting and hasn't noticed them yet… or it has left."

"I would have almost preferred to see it attack the birds. Absence of evidence isn't evidence of absence. It could also be waiting for us and ignoring the birds because it's smart enough to realise they aren't natural. Some predators won't attack prey with which they aren't familiar;" Granger said.

That made sense. Though he didn't think that a wyvern would be so picky. "Can you conjure tropical birds?"

"The spell conjures specific birds, presumably ones native to Britain," she told him.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," he said with a grin. He wasn't really amused, though. "So… we still don't know for sure if the wyvern's waiting for us."

"No, we don't. Although it's more likely that it's left."

"''More likely' doesn't sound like good enough odds to bet your life on it," he told her.

"Not unless it involves a Snitch, I presume."

He had to chuckle at that. "Careful. People might think you actually knew something about Quidditch."

"I know the rules and its history," she replied. "How would I have realised I didn't like the game if I didn't know anything about it?"

He gaped at her. How could she not like Quidditch if she understood it?

"Oh, get a grip, Potter!" She sighed. "Not everyone likes Quidditch!"

"You're the only person I know who doesn't like it!"

"Clearly, you need to re-evaluate your social circle," she said, flashing her teeth at him.

"Or you need to re-evaluate your hobbies!" He matched her expression.

"My hobbies are perfectly fine!"

"What? Reading and studying?" He scoffed. "Live a little Granger! Try some sports!"

"I do sports!" she claimed. "Just not Quidditch."

"Then it doesn't count!" he blurted out before he blinked. That was… well...

She started at him for a second, then started to laugh. "Are we really arguing about Quidditch while we're hiding from a man-eating monster in a cave on a deserted island?"

Put like that, it was absurd. After a moment, he started laughing as well.

Even though there was no argument for not liking Quidditch, anyway!

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 5: The Trap

Diagon Alley, London, July 6th, 1996

"You should've called me at once," Sirius Black said, frowning at his best friend. At least James should've done so before informing the DMLE - that's what best friends were for. And Sirius was much more competent than the Aurors, anyway.

"I called you as soon as I realised that Harry was actually missing," James replied. "I can't call you every time Harry is late."

"Of course you can!" Sirius protested. "He's my godson! You know I'd drop everything for him!" And even if it was nothing but a kid forgetting the time while out with a girl - Sirius had used that excuse himself more times than he could count - getting dragged home by a Marauder would teach his godson to be sneakier. "It's not as if I have anything more important to do, anyway," he added.

"You're a member of the Wizengamot," James said.

"Exactly." Sirius grinned.

His friend sighed. "So… do you think you can do something?" He gestured at the ice-cream parlour. "It's been hours, but this is the last place that we know Harry visited."

Sirius grinned. "Only hours? Don't worry. I'll have him tracked down in no time!" And then whoever had kidnapped his godson would pay! They might have warded Harry against magical spells, but Padfoot's nose was much harder to beat. He had once tracked a unicorn through the Forbidden Forest on a dare, after all! Granted, he had almost been killed by a particularly grumpy centaur, and he had had to run from an enraged herd of unicorns when he had blundered into their glade, but he had won the dare, and that was what counted. "Be right back!" he told James, then stepped into a nearby side alley.

A quick check if anyone was watching - nope - and he changed.

Padfoot snorted when he trotted out of the side alley. Diagon Alley had changed - as he had changed. It had lost colour, but gained so many interesting scents… He inhaled, then growled - there was a cat nearby!

"Did you get his scent?"

Right. He wasn't here to teach some stupid cats that they weren't half as clever as they thought they were and that they should stay away from rats. He was here to save his godson, Harry!

He shook his head and trotted over to the entrance to the ice-cream place. Mmm… ice-cream! So many delicious scents... he could feel himself drooling.

No, Harry. Remember Harry! He shook his head to clear it, sending some drops of drool flying, then entered the parlour.

"Hey! No dogs in here!" some witch yelled.

"That's an Auror search dog," James told the silly witch.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, we've had trouble with pets in the shop, and…"

Padfoot ignored the witch and went to the table James had shown him before. Harry had been sitting here. He sniffed the seats. Ron. Ron's girlfriend. Harry's nemesis. And Harry! Yes!

He barked, then started to follow his godson's trail. Out the door, taking a right, towards the joke shop - the best joke shop. Yes, yes. The trail was clear. It hadn't rained, and no one had cleaned the street. Yes, yes!

Nose down, he followed Harry's scent. Some silly wizard was too slow to get out of his way, but Padfoot easily shouldered the man aside - he was a big dog. A good dog and best friend, no matter what Lily claimed. And yes, the trace led to the joke shop… no. No?

The trail took a turn. Towards… Knockturn Alley. He growled.

And James, behind him, cursed. "Don't tell me that Harry went there," he muttered.

Silly James, Padfoot couldn't talk. But he could follow a trail through anything. Almost anything - Lily had once used some really nasty concoction to make him lose his sense of smell for a week after he had tracked them down during their honeymoon!

And Harry's trail led into Knockturn Alley. A place with even more interesting scents than Diagon Alley. But also a place with far more dangerous residents.

Well, nothing and no one in there was as dangerous as Padfoot and James!

"Knockturn Alley… I told him not to go there! What was he thinking?"

Probably that it was interesting, Padfoot thought. That was why the Marauders had visited the alley, after all. Before the war, at least. During the war, they had visited mainly to kill a Death Eater or sympathiser hiding there - they hadn't been able to hide from Padfoot's nose!

And Harry's kidnapper wouldn't be able to hide from him, either!

He entered the alley, following Harry's scent.

Wait… there was another scent he knew. He had smelt it before… recently. He barked. Harry's nemesis. Both of them went into Knockturn Alley?

For a moment, Padfoot wondered if they had had a secret rendezvous there. Wouldn't that be just like James? Actually, no, it wouldn't. James and Lily hadn't dated in secret - James had told his friends and everyone else who hadn't been able to get away when she agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him.

No, it probably was their rivalry or something.

"Padfoot?"

He shook his head and continued tracking Harry, nose on the cobblestones. The girl's scent diverted after a bit, but Harry's led him… to a shop.

"Hey! No pets allowed!"

"Auror business! Have you seen this boy?"

Padfoot let his tongue loll out his mouth and barked. 'Auror business' - best way to shut someone up! But he had to track Harry. As soon as James was done questioning the clerk. Who, as expected, hadn't seen anyone in years.

Back to Harry. The scent left the shop. He was tempted to still check inside, but… they didn't have the time for that. Back during the war, if anyone went missing… He growled. He didn't want to remember that time. Few of those who went missing had returned. Some hadn't been found to this day.

But all the Death Eaters had been taken care of. Peter and Remus had gotten the Carrows five years ago, in Romania. So who would… He smelt a hag and growled. If that monster had hurt… but Harry's scent led into the next shop.

Had his godson really gone to Knockturn Alley to shop? Had his rivalry with his nemesis gone too far and he was looking for dark items? And why wouldn't he have come to Padfoot about that? His family had the best dark stuff!

"Padfoot?"

Right. Focus. He smelt the cobblestones again and followed Harry's trail. At least the trail didn't lead further into the alley.

Another shop. And another clerk who hadn't seen anything or anyone. And so on. They should've set the alley ablaze, back during the war. But James and Lily had shot down his idea. He was vindicated now, though - if the alley had been burned down, Harry wouldn't have been able to get lost here.

And another shop. 'Leopold's Slightly-Used Goods'. Oh, there was the scent of the girl again! But no trail leading out of the shop. Neither Harry's nor the girl's.

Padfoot growled.

"What?" James asked.

Padfoot nodded towards the shop's entrance.

"Harry went in and didn't come out?"

He barked.

James raised his wand.

They entered.

"Hey! No pets allowed!" a wizard told them. He smelt like firewhiskey - the cheap stuff. And tobacco. And… the man just smelt.

"Auror business. Have you seen this boy?"

"What? No…"

"We know he's been here!" James snapped. "Are you lying to me?"

"N-no. I might've seen the boy… right… I remember. There was some sort of scuffle. And he left. Yes."

Padfoot growled.

"He didn't leave," James said, trembling with anger.

"But… He did! There was a scuffle, they toppled a few shelves - and when I went to check, they were gone."

"They?" James pointed his wand at the scumbag.

Padfoot sniffed the floor, then followed the scent trail. Both the girl and Harry had gone… there.

"The girl and the boy. They had a quarrel or something. Lover's spat? I don't know; they had sneaked out when I went to check, really!"

Padfoot barked.

"Yes, there," the clerk said. "By the books. Everything was spread over the floor."

"Was anything missing?" James asked, still tense.

"Uh… the Alarm Charm didn't trigger, so they didn't take anything with them."

"You didn't check whether anything is missing?"

"No?"

Padfoot wanted to bite the idiot.

"Is there another exit?"

"Uh, yes. But that's behind the counter - and I was there." The clerk nodded with a weak smile. He smelt sweaty now, Padfoot noticed. Guilty.

But then, most everyone in Knockturn Alley smelt like that when talking to an Auror.

James was baring his teeth, but he wasn't growling. He was talking in tight, controlled sentences. "You didn't see them sneak out even though you were watching the door. So clearly they could've sneaked past you."

Well, not without the Cloak, Padfoot thought. Although the clerk was so stupid, Harry probably would have managed without his Cloak.

He went to check. No scent of Harry or the girl near the back door. He returned to James and barked, shaking his head.

"They didn't leave through the back door either," James said. "Where are they?"

"I don't know! I'm just a clerk! I swear! I don't know anything!"

"We'll see."

Padfoot wondered if the clerk would end up pissing himself.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

Hermione Granger shook her head. Potter's Quidditch obsession really was just ridiculous. At least he realised it. Sometimes. Unfortunately, he wasn't alone - most of Wizarding Britain was obsessed with the silly game. Flying dozens of yards in the air, chased by enchanted iron balls, and most of the time, the match was decided by the Seeker, anyway. That the game was so popular despite this was almost as vexing as Potter thinking she didn't take part in any sporting activities. She did - just not as obsessively as Potter. She might not run around the Black Lake every day, but she was fit enough to do so if she wanted to. Which she didn't - there were more important things to do in her limited free time. And walking was a sport as well - there were even walking races at the Olympics.

And they did have more important things to discuss now as well. Such as finding out whether the monster had actually left or simply didn't like the taste of birds. She cleared her throat. "So, how do you suggest to find out whether or not it's safe to leave this cave without putting ourselves in danger?"

Potter frowned in that manner of his that she knew meant he didn't have a good idea. "I can go take a peek, with you ready to summon me back to you at my signal."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "If the monster is lying in ambush, then it might be too fast for you to notice and alert me in time to summon you."

"You said that it's probably left." He grinned, proving that, just as she'd suspected, he didn't have an alternative and just wanted to be contrarian. "And you've proved that you can summon me quickly enough to avoid the wyvern."

"As long as I have sufficient advance warning," she pointed out. "Given that you have to notice it, then alert me, at which point I have to react and cast the spell, that might not be the case. You should use a decoy, anyway."

"If the wyvern didn't fall for your birds, then it won't fall for a decoy, either."

"The monster could be relying on its sense of smell to identify prey," she said.

He scoffed. "It spotted us from a high altitude."

She pressed her lips together. That was true, but risking your life over it? But she didn't have a better plan, either. "Make sure your glasses are protected by an Impervious Charm," she said. "Otherwise, you won't see anything after sticking your head through the waterfall." His glasses were probably enchanted with that charm anyway, but if your life might depend on something, it was better to verify any relevant assumptions.

"They're already charmed," he replied - and frowned at her as if she had suggested cancelling the spell instead. What was his problem?

"Good."

He nodded. "Keep your wand ready."

Did he think she'd holster it? She hadn't let go of her wand since before this whole mess started. She nodded. Curtly. "Be careful."

"Always."

She had to snort at that lie despite herself. Potter was anything but careful, as anyone who had ever had to work with him or had seen him play Quidditch could attest. Well, he wouldn't die on her watch. Not if she could help it. Someone had to look out for the idiot.

His grin slipped into something a little more toothy as he turned and started to walk towards the waterfall at the cave's entrance. He stopped in front of it, but stayed near the wall of the cave, peering through the small gap on this side of the waterfall. Then he took a deep breath - she could see his chest moving - and leaned forward, into the waterfall.

She held her breath. If the monster was waiting above the entrance, it could swoop down and rip his head off before either Potter or she could react, 'Seeker reflexes' be damned.

But nothing happened. Potter took a step forward, then another, and then he was outside the cave - she could see his blurred form on the other side of the waterfall.

She slowly released her breath through clenched teeth but kept her wand trained on his form. If the creature was flying overhead…

Potter turned and stuck his head through the waterfall. "It's clear. The wyvern's not around."

"Did you check the pond?" she asked.

"It's too small to hide inside," he retorted.

So he hadn't checked it. But he was still alive, so it should be safe.

Taking a deep breath herself, she walked towards him - keeping her wand ready, of course.

She tensed when she stepped through the waterfall, shivering when she got doused again, and looked around quickly once she was outside in the sun.

But Potter had been correct - there was no sign of the monster. Not on the ground nor in the air.

She sighed with relief and turned to address him. "So, what do we do now?"

He blinked, and she sighed again. As she had feared, he didn't have a plan.

*****​

Harry Potter blinked. Granger was… well, she had been drenched from head to toe by the waterfall. And her top clung to her chest like… He blinked again and forced himself to look away. She probably had done that on purpose, seeing how she had reacted back in the cave.

"I see. You've got no idea."

What? He narrowed his eyes at her. First, Granger shot down his ideas, and then she blamed him for not having a plan? Yeah, right. "We still need to kill the wyvern. We won't be safe until we manage that." And they had to keep an eye out for it, too - he checked the sky.

"Or until we get rescued."

She was doing this deliberately! "Who argued against just waiting for a rescue, huh?" he snapped.

"That was before we encountered this monster, back when the environment was our greatest challenge," she replied, putting her hands on her hips and huffing. "Attacking a man-eating giant flying monster is a lot more dangerous than gathering coconuts."

"I wasn't thinking of attacking it," he told her with a scoff. "I was thinking of laying a trap for it." That was much less dangerous - he had heard Charlie's stories about his work at the dragon reserve, after all.

"Like preparing poisoned bait?" She inclined her head, making a point of looking at the enlarged birds still flying around above the pond.

"Since that plan didn't work, no, not like that." He refrained from scowling. Better not let her know that she was getting to him.

She huffed in response and crossed her arms under her chest. Which lifted her… He wouldn't let her get him like that. Instead of looking away, he maintained eye contact, then deliberately looked at her chest before scoffing.

She gasped, then turned away. "You…" She trailed off, and he saw her cast the Drying Charm again.

Point Potter, he thought with a grin. "Anyway," he went on, after a brief check of the sky, "I was thinking of an iron spike with a barb - place some bait on top of it, the wyvern dives and impales itself on it."

"And what if that doesn't hold it? Or the monster avoids the spike?"

"Then we say 'tough shit' and try another plan, of course," he replied. "But we don't have to be near the trap for it to work, so it's quite safe."

"Unless you try to play bait again." She huffed again.

That probably meant she didn't have a better argument against his idea. Good. "I'm not planning to impale myself on a spike."

"Good." She nodded rather sharply.

"But that means we need bait," he pointed out.

"There's bound to be fish in the pond." She nodded at the water. "That's why we came here, after all."

"You only wanted to bribe the wyvern, though," he reminded her.

"That was before it tried to kill us." She bared her teeth, then looked up at the sky.

Right. Granger was vindictive as hell. She'd take even a harmless joke personally, he reminded himself, and didn't believe in proportional responses. "Anyway, let's get some fish."

"Using fish as bait might also attract other animals. And it'll spoil quickly in this heat."

"Good. That means the wyvern will smell it as well." He grinned.

"We still have no indication that the monster hunts by scent."

He shrugged. "But odds are it'll notice, and check it out."

"We'll see."

"Well, not directly - we'll be far away when the trap goes off," he corrected her.

"How far? Because if we're caught outside the cave by the monster, we'll be in trouble. And if we place the trap close to the pond, it might attract predators that are small enough to fit into the cave."

"If they're small enough to fit into the cave, we can easily deal with them," he replied.

"There's also the stench and the insects it'll attract."

"We've got spells for that." Well, Harry did, anyway. With Rose still stubbornly trying - and failing - to prove that she wasn't inept at Potions, learning a charm to clear the air had been a necessity. Not even Mum had made much of a fuss about him doing magic over the holidays that time.

"I guess that'll have to do," she conceded with all the grace of a particularly drunk troll.

"Yes. So, you get the fish, I'll make the spike." Harry nodded at her, then turned to eye the closest tree. After checking the sky for the wyvern, of course. He'd need a decently-sized branch, ideally with a fork that could be sharpened into a barb. Although in a pinch, he could use a Sticking Charm to add some barbs.

*****​

'You get the fish.' Hermione Granger swallowed her first response. Typical - Potter took any agreement as an acknowledgement of his supposed leadership. Leadership by someone who had made his plan up on the spot!

But - after some adjustments - the plan did seem workable, and the risks it presented were acceptable. And she knew that they had to work together to survive this, so pointing out Potter's failures wouldn't help their situation. Quite the contrary, in fact.

So she swallowed her second comment as well and walked to the pond - after checking the sky for flying monsters bent on eating her or Potter, of course. Someone had to watch out for them.

The sky was clear. Unfortunately, so was the pond - or so it seemed. She couldn't believe that there were no fish in it - it was an almost ideal spot for fish. And she couldn't see any predators… Oh. Large birds circling over the pond would probably be seen as dangerous by a fish in the pond. Especially after the monster had disturbed the pond by landing in it.

But the birds also served as a potential distraction for the monster - which, so far, as a quick check confirmed, hadn't returned. Dismissing them would, therefore, be a waste, and potentially dangerous.

A flick of her wand sent the birds to circle over the trees to the east of the pond. That should do it. Now she just had to lure the fish out. If only she had some bread… Oh. Insects would do just as well. Turning a button into a beetle required a button, but… She moved her wand and a line of ants appeared and marched straight into the water.

She watched them float around, waving their legs in a futile attempt to swim, then looked up again. Still clear.

Looking down, she was just in time to see the first ant vanish - something had snapped it up. A fish! Probably - but what else lived underwater and ate drifting insects?

Perhaps a snake. Well, a snake would serve as bait as well, if properly enlarged, but… there was the Parseltongue problem. Snakes weren't sapient, but a Parselmouth could talk to them. And hold a discussion as if the snakes were human. Even if one assumed - which was the generally accepted explanation according to her research - that the Parselmouth's magic made snakes temporarily sapient, everything she had read about it agreed that the snakes did rely on their memories for the conversation. That made them at least proto-sapient. And if one followed the Lovegood hypothesis, which stated that all snakes were sapient, but cursed not to understand humans except for Parselmouths...

Hermione couldn't kill a snake. It would feel like murder.

Another ant disappeared. She spotted a silvery shadow in the water. Hah! "Accio fish!"

A small fish rose out of the water, wriggling and thrashing desperately in an attempt to escape the grip of her spell.

Hemione could kill a fish, though. She gripped it by the tail, then slammed its head against the closest rock a few times. The result was a dead or unconscious fish - and if it was unconscious, then it would painlessly suffocate without water soon enough.

She waited for a little while to be sure that it was dead - she didn't want to be hit by a dog-sized fish's tail fin - then cast the Engorgement Charm on it. It instantly grew to the size of a large dog, and Hermione smiled widely - this had been her best result to date! If Professor Flitwick could see it, she'd get at least five points!

She cast a Levitation Charm to transport the fish and looked at the sky again. Still clear. Whew.

Then she walked towards Potter - or where she had last seen the boy. He shouldn't have gone far - they had agreed to stay close to the cave - but Potter wasn't exactly good at sticking to the rules. Or at showing any common sense. "Potter?"

"What?"

Ah, that sounded close! Just behind the denser underbrush at the edge of the jungle, where the light allowed many more plants to grow than in the shadow below the canopy. "I've got the fish."

"Ah? Good! I'm almost done with the spike! Start on the pit!"

The pit? What? "What pit?"

"For the trap, duh!"

"You want to dig a pit trap large enough for the monster?" He couldn't mean it! And, speaking of traps… she looked up. Still clear.

"No, to anchor the spike."

Why didn't he say so in the first place? "And how wide should it be?"

He didn't reply. Just as she was about to repeat her question, the underbrush parted and Potter walked out, followed by a floating iron spike as thick as her thigh and as tall as Potter himself. With a wicked barb.

And with an open shirt. Potter, that was - not the spike. Damn, Lavender had been right - Quidditch did build nice bodies. At least if a maniac like Wood was responsible for the training regime.

She blinked. She was staring at Potter? Like some hormone-crazed superficial bint with no sense or class? And why had he opened his shirt anyway? It wasn't as if he had used his muscles to move the spike.

Damn - he must have done it on purpose, trying to impress her out of some stupid sense of machismo.

Well, it wouldn't work!

*****​

Harry Potter wiped some sweat from his neck. Even with his shirt open, he felt hot. And not the good kind of hot. Just the sweaty kind. He didn't even want to imagine how he would have felt if he'd had to lug the spike around without magic.

And Granger was frowning at him. He scoffed. She was only wearing shorts and a small top, and she hadn't had to do anything but summon some fish from the pond; she didn't get to sneer at him for sweating.

But he wouldn't make a scene; he could be the better person. Besides, they had a more urgent problem. "It should be this wide," he told her, pointing at the base of the spike.

"Ah." She looked up before looking around. "And where do we do this? Opposite the entrance to the cave, I presume, so we can keep an eye on it."

"Obviously," he replied, refraining from frowning. Again, she was making it look as if stating the obvious was smart. He glanced at the huge fish she was levitating. "That won't hide the entire spike."

"We can use plants to hide it."

"That might not fool the wyvern," he pointed out. They didn't know whether the monster had seen the birds or not, but you should never underestimate your enemy, as Remus had taught him.

"If it recognises a trap, then we won't catch it anyway," she retorted. "Let's go - I don't feel safe out here."

"Well, the lack of books must be disturbing," he joked, chuckling.

She rolled her eyes at him. Typical.

They quickly reached the other side of the pond, opposite the waterfall. "I think that's visible from the back of the cave," she said. "But we should check."

"Alright. Go check," he told her. He would have liked walking through the waterfall to cool off a little, but if the wyvern returned, he had a better chance of escaping it.

She frowned again but nodded - tersely - and dropped the fish on the ground as she walked towards the cave.

He shook his head behind her back - he couldn't imagine what had gotten her goat this time. The whole situation was probably getting to her. Granger wasn't good at dealing with problems when she couldn't prepare; her performance in the duelling hall - and in the hallways - proved that.

He watched her step through the waterfall, then checked the sky again. Still clear. Perhaps Granger was correct, and the wyvern was hunting in the sea. Probably large fishes, dolphins and whales and the like - creatures like dragons needed a lot of food.

"Move a little to your right!"

Ah - Granger had reappeared and pointed to her left. He took a few steps to the right.

She went into the cave again, then came back. "That's it!"

While he started creating a hole for the spike, she walked towards him, wading through the shallower part of the pond.

"We'll have to watch our shoes," she said when she reached him. "They might rot and fall apart in this humidity without constant care."

"That's what the Mending Charm is for," he replied without looking at her.

"That's what I meant." She sounded annoyed - he knew that tone; she usually sounded annoyed when she was talking to him.

"Ah." He checked the sky again, then dug a little deeper with another Vanishing Spell. "I think that's deep enough."

She knelt down and checked. "Perhaps a foot deeper?"

"Then there won't be much of the spike left," he pointed out.

"Right." She nodded and stood. "It'll have to do."

He waved his wand and cast another Levitation Charm before she could find something else to criticise. Manoeuvring such a heavy object with enough precision to get it into a hole was tricky, but Harry managed it easily. "There!" he announced, kicking the spike to show it was set firmly in the ground.

"Watch out!"

He ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the fish she was floating above his head. "Watch it!" he snapped.

"I do."

Oh, damn…

He bit back a comeback while she lowered the fish on to the spike until the tip and barb were hidden inside it. "That should hold for a while, but as the cadaver starts to rot, it'll slide down the spike."

"We can replace the bait then," he told her, "though we'll be saved before that happens."

She snorted. "We'll see."

"Yes, we will." He frowned at her. His parents would notice that he was missing by dinner time at the latest. Then they would send out Patronus Messengers, as usual. And then Mum, Dad and their friends would track them down. They might even call Dumbledore - the Headmaster was the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, so if they were in some other country, he could probably deal with any issues.

"The sky's still clear," Granger said, interrupting his thoughts. "Let's cover up the rest of the spike and head back into the cave. We don't want it coming back and avoiding the spike."

"Of course not," he replied with a fake smile. Then he blinked. "Damn. One more thing."

"What?" She sounded concerned as she turned to look at him.

"We don't tell Hagrid about this, understand?"

She gaped at him for a moment before nodding with a grimace. "Of course not! He'd fail us for the rest of our time at Hogwarts if he knew we'd tried to kill such a creature." After a moment, she added: "We probably shouldn't tell Luna, either."

"Oh, right." Harry winced. Luna would probably cry at hearing about this.

*****​

Hermione Granger shook her head as they walked back to the cave. This was bad. Professor Hagrid was a good teacher and an acknowledged expert on magical creatures, but he liked his subject matter a little too much and tended to underestimate how dangerous magical creatures could be. And he loved dragons. If he ever heard that they had killed a wy... a monster that displayed some similarities to a dragon, he'd probably get angrier than the time Malfoy had deliberately stepped on Neville's Puffskein.

And Luna… Dear Lord, Luna would probably think Hermione was the worst witch in the world for killing such a beast. Hermione shivered at the thought. But they had no choice - they couldn't survive on the island with such a creature hunting them.

She looked up and checked the sky - still clear.

They reached the edge of the pond, where the water was shallow, and she waded towards the waterfall. Having to get wet entering and leaving was really inconvenient.

She recast her Drying Charm as soon as she was inside the cave. She wouldn't give Potter another show. She caught him staring at her with a frown and huffed. Typical! Huffing, she sat down across the entrance, squinting at the waterfall. She could just make out the blur that would be the fish - the bait - across the pond.

Potter sat down as well - too close to her for her taste. Didn't he trust her to keep an eye on the trap? "So now we wait," he said.

How eloquent! "Yes, now we wait," she repeated, rolling her eyes. It was obvious, wasn't it?

"Hey, Granger, cheer up - we're safe here and we managed to prepare our trap."

"And we don't know if it'll work," she replied.

He shrugged as if that wasn't of any concern at all. "Even if it doesn't work, we'll still gain more information about the wyvern."

"Information we'll use to build a better trap?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Exactly!" He grinned at her. "That's the spirit, Granger! To boldly experiment and create new things!"

"Killing a rare magical creature in innovative and increasingly desperate ways until it sticks?" She snorted. "That sounds like A Fish Called Wanda."

He blinked, then snorted as well. "Let's hope we fare better than the animal lover."

"Michael Palin," she told him. "That was the actor."

"Ah." He didn't sound interested. "It was a very funny movie."

"Yes." She hesitated a moment, then asked: "Where did you see it?" It was eight years old, after all - he couldn't have seen it at the cinema. And TVs didn't work in magical homes - the wards interfered with electronics. She suppressed a wince, remembering how she had tested that at home. Getting punished by both the Ministry and her parents… That summer vacation a few years ago really hadn't been fun.

"My cousin's home."

"Ah." He had mentioned his muggle relatives earlier, hadn't he?

"I'm not an ignorant pureblood," he said, sounding more than a little defensive.

"Well, you act like one often enough," she said.

"How so?" He glared at her.

"Always talking about your new broom, your special library, your special training, your family…" She scoffed.

"I don't always talk like that!" he protested. "And talking about your family is normal!"

"I don't talk about my family nearly as often as you do. Neither does Lavender. How often does your cousin talk about his family?"

She saw him press his lips together before answering: "Ron often talks about his family!"

"Ron's a pureblood," she pointed out. "But even he doesn't brag nearly as often as you do!"

"He doesn't brag nearly as often as you do, either!"

"Pardon me?" He couldn't mean that she was…

"You always go on about your tests and exams and books you've read!" He shook his head. "Oh, I hope I did the bonus question correctly! I only had fifteen minutes to do it after finishing the rest of the test, and I'm not sure if that seventh year book I read contained the answer!"

"I'm not like that!" she hissed. She wasn't!

"Yes, you are. And it's annoying!"

"Not nearly as annoying as you incessantly going on about your family and wealth!" she spat.

"So, what am I supposed to do, pretend that I'm an orphan?"

"You could be more humble!" It was certainly impossible for him to be more arrogant!

"I'm very humble. I don't brag nearly as much as certain others!"

It was clear that he meant her. Hah! "Oh, sure you don't, Mr 'God's Gift to Quidditch'!"

"That was a joke!"

"Well, it wasn't funny, so how would anyone be supposed to be able to tell?" She scoffed again. She loathed the sort of 'jokes' Potter and his friends made.

"You wouldn't know funny if it hit you with a curse!"

"You would think that was funny, wouldn't you? Hitting someone with a curse!"

"A curse? Of course not!" he shook his head. "They're banned in duelling for a reason!"

She scoffed once more. "But hexes and jinxes are OK?"

"They're easily dealt with - if you know what spell it is. Unlike curses," he said.

"Just because they're easily dealt with doesn't mean they don't hurt."

"Says Miss 'Look at the hex I found in some obscure and probably banned book'!"

He was imitating her now, was he? "I'm only defending myself against you!" she corrected him.

"Yeah, sure you do when you ambush me at night!"

"That was justified revenge for your attack the day before! And if you hadn't broken curfew, you wouldn't have been outside in a hallway!" she pointed out. It was all his fault, anyway.

"You broke curfew as well to ambush me!" He huffed. "And I still got you back before McGonagall arrived!"

That was true - she should've withdrawn at once after hitting him with that hex. But the temptation to rub it in a little had been too great. "You started this!" she spat. It was his fault.

"I started this? You started it! I was just getting even!" he blurted out.

"Getting even? For what?"

"The Gastric Garlic Hex!"

Oh, right - that had been fun. Not for anyone in his room or nearby, of course. But… "That was revenge for the Squeaky Voice Potion in my tea!"

"That was a harmless prank! And revenge for the Balding Head Jinx!" He blinked. "Wait… are you really going to list every spell I've ever cast on you?"

"Are you?" she shot back. If he was going there, she'd beat him at it!

"In any case, you started it by claiming that we had stolen Neville's toad on the train!"

"You acted like you had, the way you were joking about it!" She knew how bullies acted well enough - and who would joke about the loss of a pet? Only a heartless bully!

"Everyone jokes about Trevor getting lost. Even Neville!"

She huffed. "In any case" - she imitated his tone - "I was perfectly justified in suspecting you and informing a prefect!"

"And I was perfectly justified in hexing your shoes to get back at you!"

"Showing off that you got special training." And rubbing it in.

"What?" He gaped at her. "You learned every damn spell in every first year book before you even got to Hogwarts!"

"And none of them were hexes that remove all traction from your shoes!" She had slipped, fallen to the ground and slipped out of her shoes as well. That had been so embarrassing!

He was still staring at her with his mouth slightly open. "Are you honestly angry because you didn't learn a hex before Hogwarts started?"

"No," she lied. "It's the principle of the thing. Anyone could've learned all the spells I did by studying our books. But no one could've learned that hex since it's not in any book that's been published." And that was terribly unfair.

"And why is that a problem? There are hundreds of hexes you can learn that work just as well - and I bet you know most of them!"

Of course she did - having a wide arsenal of spells was her best chance of beating Potter by using a spell he couldn't counter. "It's the principle of the thing," she repeated herself. "Information shouldn't be hoarded by individual families! It should be free!"

"So spellcrafters should work for free?" He sniffed. "I'll have to tell Mum that."

She rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean that. But spells shouldn't be secret. The Ministry should make all of them available. All legal spells, at least. They could buy them." And then place them in the public domain!

"Good luck with that in the Wizengamot."

Of course the Wizengamot wouldn't do anything - the Old Families must have more secret spells than the rest of Britain combined. She clenched her teeth. It was so frustrating! "Your birth shouldn't matter so much!"

"Of course it shouldn't," he agreed, to her surprise. "But the world won't change when you whine about it. You have to change it."

That was… "You're quoting your mother?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

He blushed a little and pressed his lips together again.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it like that."

He huffed again, then looked at the waterfall. "Look, I know how you feel. Mum felt the same. It's not easy for muggleborns. But you can't blame everyone else for it. Not everyone's like Malfoy and his cronies."

"Enough are like him for this situation to continue," she pointed out.

"But you're not helping things by accusing everyone."

She knew that. And she wasn't - but Potter just… She took a deep breath. "It's just so frustrating to know that I have to work twice as hard to get as far as some pureblood twit who was born into the right family."

"Well, that's the same as in muggle Britain, isn't it? You can…"

A roar outside interrupted him.

The monster was back!

Hermione froze for a moment as her stomach dropped.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 6: The Siege

Kingston upon Thames, London, Britain, July 6th, 1996

"Hello, Lavender." Ellen Granger smiled at the girl standing in front of their door. "Come in!" She waved the girl inside. Then she frowned. Wasn't Hermione supposed to have met Lavender for the afternoon? And it was now almost evening. She didn't think Hermione would have lied to her, but… her darling daughter could stretch the truth a little when it suited her. "Weren't you with Hermione?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

The witch winced, which wasn't a good sign. "She hasn't come home, then?"

"No," Ellen replied. "Was she supposed to?"

"She said her stomach felt a little queasy after we ate a little too much ice-cream and that she was going home…" the girl told her.

"She hasn't come home." Ellen shook her head. "When was that?"

"Oh… three hours ago. About that."

That was… it didn't have to mean anything. Hermione could've made a stop at a bookshop on the way home and ended up distracted for hours - it had happened before. Or she could have changed her plans - she was sixteen, after all, and not a little girl any more. And it wasn't yet dinner time. But… Lavender looked concerned. No, more than concerned.

They reached the living room. "Please have a seat." Ellen nodded at the couch. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thank you, Ellen," Lavender replied. The girl fidgeted with her dress - something was wrong.

"What happened?" Ellen asked, taking a seat in Gabriel's armchair.

"Ah… Ron, my boyfriend, told me that Harry was missing," Lavender said, biting her lower lip like Hermione tended to when she was anxious. "We, Hermione and I, met Ron and Harry in Diagon Alley and went to Fortescue's, that's the ice cream parlour, together."

Ellen nodded. She was well aware of Fortescue's, something Lavender should know - the girl wasn't one of those wizards and witches who thought muggles knew nothing about Wizarding Britain.

"So… we ate there, then Hermione left, saying she felt queasy. Then Harry left, and I stayed with Ron, you know…" The girl smiled, blushing a little.

Ellen nodded again. Hermione had told her about that relationship as soon as it had begun. In detail. Fortunately, her assumptions, based on the fact that Ron was Potter's best friend and, therefore, obviously someone to be concerned about, had proved false. And fueled by Hermione's obvious jealousy that her best friend was now in a relationship. It had been amusing, at the time.

But Lavender had fallen silent. That was another bad sign. "So… they both left?"

"Yes." The witch nodded. "And then I went home - I still have homework to do, and we talked about it, today, Hermione and I, you know - and I didn't think…"

"Lavender." Ellen cocked her head at the girl. "What's got you so worked up?"

"Harry's missing," the girl blurted out. "Ron told me. So, I thought… I mean, Hermione said she was going home, but… if she hasn't come home."

Ellen felt her stomach sink. Hermione was a very smart girl, and a very talented witch, according to her grades and several talks with her teachers. But she wasn't entirely rational when it came to Potter. Ellen and Gabriel had told her countless times to let things go and ignore the boy, but Hermione had been too stubborn to heed their advice.

Sometimes, she was too much like Ellen had been, back when she was a teenager. And if Potter was involved... "They didn't leave together, did they?" she asked.

"What? No, no!" Lavender shook her head. "We - Ron and I - would have stepped in if they had done that. I mean…" She grimaced.

Ellen sighed and nodded. "I know." Several talks with Professor McGonagall had made sure of that. "But if Mr Potter's missing, and Hermione's not back yet…"

"You should call the Potters! They're investigating!"

Ellen frowned again. She hadn't had any trouble with the Potters, and they had been perfectly polite when they had met, but since they had only ever met following a call from Professor McGonagall about another incident, all their meetings had been more than a little awkward.

But this was about Hermione. She could stand a lot more than some awkwardness where her daughter was concerned.

"Yes. I don't suppose they have a phone?"

Lavender shook her head. "But I can call the Knight Bus, and it'll take us to Godric's Hollow."

Ellen grimaced. She remembered the Knight Bus. But if Hermione was in danger… "Let's go."

"Alright!" Lavender nodded and stood.

Ellen quickly wrote a note for Gabriel so he wouldn't worry - or, rather, wouldn't worry about her; he would, of course, worry about Hermione - and one for Hermione, in case her girl returned during her absence, before grabbing her purse. She didn't bother fetching her coat, however; it was warm outside, and her sweater would be enough. She was almost at the door when she gasped. "Wait!" she told Lavender, already turning, "I'll just get the photo album; if we go to the police, they'll want a current picture of Hermione."

"Oh, good idea!" Lavender agreed.

Stepping back into the living room, Ellen closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing them shut, her words echoing inside her head. Hermione would be OK. She had to be OK. Many children went missing for a few hours, usually for harmless reasons. Even children as smart as Hermione.

And yet she couldn't help fearing the worst - Hermione had told them about the kind of crimes magic made possible. The kind of crimes that had been committed fifteen years ago. And Ellen had no illusions that Wizarding Britain was now free of such criminals.

Taking a deep breath - it wouldn't help anyone, least of all Hermione, if she started crying right now - she wiped her eyes and bent down to grab the most recent photo album from the shelf behind the couch. After a moment, she also grabbed the album Hermione had made for them as a Christmas present. The one with the magical pictures, usually hidden.

They might need to contact the wizarding police, after all. And to think she had been worried that one day, the wizarding police would call because Hermione's feud had gotten out of hand.

Scoffing and holding back a sob, she joined Lavender at the door. The girl was fidgeting again, scuffing her shoes on the carpet.

"She's probably just stuck in a bookshop," Ellen told her with far more assurance than she felt.

Lavender nodded, but her smile looked brittle and fake.

"Now let's…" She hesitated a moment, steeling herself. "...call the Knight Bus."

Lavender nodded and stepped outside. She waited until Ellen had locked the door, then grabbed Ellen's hand and raised her wand. A moment later, the huge triple-decker bus arrived with a literal bang. And everyone else in the street ignored both the sound and the bus.

Ellen shivered a little. If Lavender let go of her hand, she'd ignore the bus as well - she remembered how Hermione had demonstrated that, years ago. Her darling daughter hadn't quite understood, back then, why Ellen and Gabriel hadn't been impressed as much as concerned about the whole thing.

Because Ellen just couldn't help wonder what she was ignoring, hidden by magic. And what she might have been made to forget by magic. She knew it wasn't very likely that she had been manipulated, but… it wasn't impossible, either.

But she forced the familiar worry away. She had something much more important to worry about: Hermione was missing.

Lavender paid the fare, and Ellen picked the closest seat to sit in - she had learned her lesson from her previous trips. Even so, she was thrown into the seat and then almost off it when the bus accelerated at a rate that was positively neck-breaking, wildly swerving around cars whose drivers didn't even notice it as it sped through London.

By the time they reached Godric's Hollow, Ellen felt as if she had spent an hour on a rollercoaster. Without being buckled in. "They really need to improve this bus," she mumbled as she staggered out of it, ignoring the conductor's cheerful farewell.

"Hermione says that all the time," Lavender replied. "She can't wait for Apparition lessons."

Ellen nodded. Her daughter had told her the same thing - repeatedly. "So, where to now?" She looked around.

"We're here," Lavender said, pointing at an empty lot. "Oh. I forgot." She blushed and reached out to Ellen. As soon as their hands touched, Ellen could see a cosy-looking, small house. Appearances were deceiving, of course - even a tent could contain a wizarding palace. Still, the whole house and garden looked just like any other middle-class home in the countryside, and Ellen clung to the familiar look of it as Lavender led her into the yard and to the door.

The bell sounded familiar as well.

The door was opened after a few seconds by Mrs Potter. "Who… Lavender?" She blinked at Ellen for a moment, before adding: "Mrs Granger?"

Ellen nodded. "Lavender informed me that your son is missing. I fear that my daughter is missing as well," she said.

"Oh." For a moment, Mrs Potter and Ellen shared the same worried expression. "Come in, then. James went to work - he's the Head Auror - but we're also gathering friends to help to look for Harry... for them."

The inside of the house was, as Ellen had expected, larger than the outside. And missing modern appliances. But otherwise, it looked normal enough - just like Lavender's home.

"Ron!"

"Lavender!"

That was Lavender's boyfriend, then. Ellen looked at the other man - wizard - present while the teenagers embraced each other. "Professor Lupin?" She recognised the man - they had met when Hermione had insisted on getting permission to join the 'Duelling Club' in her first year, and Ellen and Gabriel had insisted on talking to her teacher first.

"Mrs Granger." He nodded at her. "I'm sorry for the circumstances."

She nodded, not bothering to reply with an empty phrase of her own. "So," she asked, turning to Mrs Potter, "Are the police looking into this already, or is this still a… private affair?" That sounded wrong.

"James has informed the DMLE," Mrs Potter told her. "We can't reach Harry with a Patronus Messenger; that means this isn't some prank." The glare she sent at the wizard told Ellen that there was something more behind this than Hermione's feud.

But she was here for Hermione, not for anything else. "I've got pictures of Hermione, if the wizarding police need them," she said, pulling out the photo album - the wizarding one.

"That should be helpful," Mr Lupin said with a smile. "I can make copies of it."

"Good idea!" Mrs Potter agreed. "I'll get some of Harry's as well. And we need to tell James that there's another student missing."

Ellen wondered if that meant that Mr Potter was leading the investigation - that wouldn't be very professional, would it? But then, who would care about procedure when their child was missing? Ellen would do anything to get Hermione back.

And, watching Mrs Potter send off a glowing doe to her husband, followed by another to a man named 'Peter', telling him to hurry 'back to England', she was sure that she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

It didn't make her stop worrying about Hermione, but it did help a little.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

Harry Potter froze. That roar… the wyvern must be close! He took a step towards the cave exit before he realised what he was doing, then stopped. If Sirius or Remus had seen that…

"Watch out!" a whisper sounded behind him.

So Granger had noticed. Damn. "I'm not even close to the red line," he told her with more assurance than he felt. "Now let's see the wyvern impale itself on my spike!"

"Going after my bait," she retorted.

He didn't deign to respond to that. Instead, he stared at the trap. If the wyvern was hunting, it would spot the bait any moment now.

"It roared. It might not be hunting," Granger said in a low voice. "Alerting your prey to your presence is counterproductive for a hunter."

"Unless it hunts by driving its prey into a panic by roaring, and then catching it as it tries to flee," he pointed out. "Some magical creatures can even use magic to cause their prey to panic."

"The Terrorising Tayra, yes," she said. "Able to send grown men into a panic through subvocalisation. But we don't know whether that's the case here." She snorted. "Although the roar feels terrifying enough."

"It's not that terrifying." Not really. Not when compared to, say, a Dementor.

"Sure it isn't." Granger scoffed. "Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid of such a monster."

He wasn't an idiot! "I didn't say I wasn't afraid," he told her. "I said it's not that terrifying."

"Sure."

"Perhaps to you it is. But I've seen worse," he retorted.

"The dragons in Romania, yes. You told everyone about that trip for weeks." She scoffed.

He clenched his teeth. "I meant the Dementor I saw."

"You saw a Dementor?" She didn't sound as if she believed him.

"At the Ministry. It was an accident - it shouldn't have been there." Dad had been livid with the idiot responsible for bringing a Dementor to the Ministry without realising that there was a tour for Quidditch fans that day. But it had been a very memorable trip. Especially Bagman's nervous breakdown.

"Riiight."

He frowned without taking his eyes off the bait. "I'm not lying."

"I guess that depends on your definition of exaggeration."

"That's rich coming from you!"

"I don't lie to teachers!"

"That depends on your definition of lying through omission," he shot back.

She blinked and stared at him, snorting once, before glaring at him. "How original!"

"Takes one to know one!" He snorted as well.

"Now, that was…"

But before she could finish whatever she was about to say, a blur hit the giant fish across the pond. And then it howled. No, it screeched with rage!

Harry froze for a moment, then smiled. "Yes!" That was the howl of a wounded monster! He could see it thrashing around on the pond's shores, right where they had set the spike. "We got it! Yes!"

As if it heard him, the wyvern stopped thrashing around and heaved - and then the monster's giant head was staring straight at them, the spike apparently lodged in its jaw.

It must have heard them, Harry realised. And it must have understood that they were responsible for its wounds since it charged straight at them, jaws opening wide as it hit the waterfall.

But Harry had already jumped back to the wall, outside of the monster's reach, when the wyvern's head appeared in the cave, screeching and roaring, splattering spit and blood around as it shook its head.

Granger was shrieking as well, he noted. Even though they were perfectly safe here, in the rearmost part of the cave. The wyvern was just too big to reach them here. Especially with the spike hindering its movement.

Harry grimaced when the creature shook its head outside the waterfall, trying to dislodge the offending object - without success, since the spike's barb was stuck in its maw.

And here it came again, shaking its head and banging the spike against the cave walls as if that would allow it to reach them!

Then the spike broke free, spraying more blood over the floor - and flying straight towards them.

"Watch out!" he yelled, tackling Granger and throwing her to the ground. The spike passed over their bodies and hit the wall, then the ground, rolling back towards them. He managed to twist his body, kicking out with both feet and pushing the thing away from them, towards the entrance of the cave.

"Yes!" he cheered. That had been close - but Seeker reflexes had saved the day, and their lives, once again!

"Get off, you lout!"

Then Harry realised that he was lying on Granger, not on the ground. And she was mad.

*****​

"Get off me!" Hermione Granger repeated herself, emphasising her order by slipping her hands between her chest and Potter's and pushing. "You're crushing me!"

He slid off her, finally, and she glared at him as she slowly sat up. The idiot had thrown her to the ground - which was made of rock - and then had jumped on her and ground her into the rough stone some more by his antics with the spike. Her knees, hips and back hurt. And the back of her head.

"Sorry."

He didn't sound as if he was sorry. Typical. She eyed the monster which was still trying to get them. It was bleeding from its maw - part of which was torn; she could see the ripped skin and flesh, and there were blood drops splattering against the cave floor and walls as it shook in rage.

She cringed when the monster roared. She quickly hid her reaction, straightening her spine - she wouldn't look like a scared girl in front of Potter. "It can't get us here," she told Potter as much as herself.

"Unless it throws things at us," Potter replied.

"I doubt that it's smart enough to understand that. Tool use seems beyond its capability," Hermione pointed out. If the monster could use tools, it would've tried to widen the cave by now. And it wouldn't have fallen for the trap, either.

"I don't think that's a deadly wound," Potter said.

"Unless it gets infected," Hermione told him.

"We can't count on that - magical creatures are tough." He shook his head. "We need to take it out now." He flicked his wand, and the spike turned back into a wooden stake. A few slashes followed - Severing Charms, she noted - and smaller slices fell off the spike. What was he…

Ah. "You want to banish lead down its gullet?" she asked.

"Yes. If it's trying so hard to eat us, better feed it, I say." She saw him wet his lips and pick up one of the pieces of wood. "Turn this into lead? I'll banish it at it."

The monster roared again, and she tried to shut it out. Shut everything and everyone out and focus. Focus on the transfiguration… She swished her wand, and the piece of wood turned into dull lead. Potter threw it into the air, then pointed his wand at it with a stabbing motion.

The lead slice flew at the creature, straight into its gaping maw. "Yes!" Potter cheered. "Straight down its gullet!"

The monster started to cough and retch. Not unlike Crookshanks when he needed to cough up a hairball. Hermione's eyes widened. "Take cover!" she snapped, casting a Shield Charm.

"What?" Potter asked, but he dropped to the ground, then cast a Shield Charm of his own.

Not a moment too soon, since the monster drew back its head, then threw it forward, coughing and retching, and the leaden slice shot out of the creature's mouth - and directly at them. It hit Hermione's shield, shattering it as she shrieked, then ricocheted off and slammed into a wall before hitting the wall next to it at an angle and rolling over the floor.

Hermione found herself on the ground again, this time without a rather muscled Quidditch player on top of her - and didn't that sound dirty? "No more feeding it balls," she told Potter. "Not when it can shoot them back at us!" He chuckled, though with a grimace, and she scoffed. "This isn't Quidditch! That projectile could've killed us!"

"That's like professional Quidditch!"

Potter was an idiot! "We've got a raging dragon-like monster trying to kill us, and you want to talk about Quidditch?" she asked, not bothering to hide her scorn.

"You started it!"

The monster roared again, and, for a moment, Hermione feared it would force itself forwards, wedging itself into the too narrow cave. That would trap the two of them inside as well.

But the monster suddenly withdrew and pulled back - out of the cave, and out of their sight. She shook her head. "Now it's wounded and mad at us. Great."

"Hey! That wasn't my fault!"

She smirked. "Did I claim that it was? But it's telling that you feel that way."

"I'm the only other person on the island," he shot back. "Who else would you blame?"

"Myself, if it were my fault," she told him. Did he think she lacked integrity and wasn't intellectually honest with herself?

"'If it were'?" He scoffed as well. "I don't remember you objecting to the plan!"

"You were the driving force behind it!" she told him, scowling at the boy. He wouldn't pin the blame for this debacle on her!

"We're here because you couldn't be bothered to stay out of Knockturn Alley!" he yelled.

"We're here because you thought that you could order me around!" she yelled back.

Before he could make another stupid claim, the sound of a boulder rolling down a rocky hill, followed by a splash, interrupted their row.

*****​

"It's above the entrance!" Harry Potter exclaimed. The wyvern must have flown and landed above them.

"So I gathered," Granger replied.

He frowned at her. "We're lucky that it sent a boulder down or we might have walked into an ambush."

"We would've been - will be - checking for such, anyway. And…"

Another boulder hitting the pond interrupted her.

"Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence…" Harry said.

"...three times is enemy action," Granger finished.

Another splash. "What's it trying to do? Bury us in here alive?"

"Or trying to burrow into the cave from above," Granger said, looking at the ceiling.

"That's ridiculous," he replied. "That's solid stone, all the way to the top."

"Not so solid stone," she pointed out as another stone crashed into the pond. This time, it didn't disappear completely, but ended up in a shallower part, sticking out of the water. "Perhaps it's trying to raise the water level so the cave gets flooded. Ravens are smart enough to come up with plans like that, so a monster like this might be capable of such reasoning as well."

"That won't work - the overflow will run downhill, not up into the cave," Harry retorted. "We're above the shoreline here."

Granger took a step towards the cave exit. "If it blocks the waterfall from the pond, the stores might act as a dam and force the water - or enough of it - into this cave."

That would be… well, technically, they could cast Bubble-Head Charms, but… "We'll have to vanish the rocks, then," he said.

"That's only a temporary solution." Granger, of course, had to criticise him.

"The wyvern will run out of rocks sooner or later. Or succumb to its wounds." Harry nodded. The creature couldn't keep this up indefinitely.

"Unless it triggers a rockslide, and we get buried alive in here."

"You're a ray of sunshine, aren't you, Granger?" He clenched his teeth. "We can burrow our way out with Vanishing Charms."

"Provided that we don't vanish a rock holding up other rocks, and trigger another rockslide." Granger shook her head. "We can't stay here. Not now that it knows we hurt it and that we're in here."

"Provided that it doesn't die." He smiled at her.

She pursed her lips in return but didn't reply.

Two more rocks had joined the others in the pond. "It's slowing down," Harry said. "It must take longer and longer to find suitable rocks."

As if the wyvern had heard him, a roaring noise filled the air, followed by what looked like half the mountain hitting the pond, sending water flying everywhere - even through the waterfall. Granger jumped back just before a wave reached her, though.

And looked at him as if this was his fault.

He scoffed. "Well, whether it's doing this to bury us or to flush us out, it's getting a little concerning."

"A little?" Granger raised her eyebrows at him.

"Nothing we can't handle," he shot back with a confident grin. "Unless you slept through our lessons."

"Oh, you…" He could see her clenching her teeth - her jaw muscles twitched. "Then let's do something about it before the creature causes another avalanche."

He snorted and took a few steps closer to the waterfall, then stopped. "Can you divert the water somehow?" His charm would only hit the falling water, otherwise.

She sighed as if that was asking the world of her. Or beneath her. But she flicked her wrist, and the closest piece of the spike grew, then floated towards the entrance, forming a small gap in the water curtain as it entered the waterfall.

Well, better than nothing. He took a few steps closer, then aimed his wand at the closest boulder. "Evanesco!"

His spell hit the rock, and it vanished. Yes! He hadn't been entirely sure that he'd manage to vanish so much volume.

The next rock was about the same size and vanished as well. The third, though, was too large - his spell failed to affect it. He clenched his teeth in frustration - Granger wouldn't let him forget this, he just knew it - and cast a Shrinking Charm on the offending rock. That worked, and his next Vanishing Charm made the boulder disappear.

"Clever."

He frowned, not looking back. It hadn't quite sounded like an insult - Granger's sarcasm usually was unmistakable - but… Granger wouldn't praise him. Instead of replying, he vanished two more boulders with his spell combo.

Then he heard a noise from above again - more rocks? He looked at the cave ceiling, then at the entrance…

...and saw the wyvern coming at him.

Gasping, he flicked his wand, and a shimmering field enveloped him a fraction of a second before the monster crashed into it. His shield shattered a moment later, and he was sent flying backwards. He hit the ground, sliding and rolling over the rough stone.

"Potter! Stupefy!"

He came to a stop, wheezing, and got up, pointing his wand at the monster - and clenching his teeth so he wouldn't groan with pain.

"Stupefy!"

"Granger!" he snapped. "Stunners won't hurt it!"

"I'm trying to distract it!"

"It's stuck in the mouth of the cave. It's about as distracted as it can get," he replied.

"At least it can't spit a Stunner back at us!" she snapped.

"It can't reach us here." He straightened, wheezing again, and ran a hand over his chest. His ribs didn't feel broken - as a Seeker, he was familiar with that kind of injury.

"It almost got you!" she hissed at him.

"Almost doesn't count," he quoted Oliver.

"You… You idiot!" Granger pointed her wand at him.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"What does it look like? Healing you, idiot! Episkey!"

He looked down. His pants were torn in several places, and he could see - and, now, feel - the scrapes on his legs.

"It's nothing," he said. "My Shield Charm protected me."

"You were thrown back two yards! And you bounced on the ground!"

"Exactly - out of its reach." He grinned at her.

She glared at him with bared teeth, then whirled and slashed her wand at the wyvern, which was still stuck in the entrance. A red line appeared over the beast's ripped cheek, and it withdrew, roaring louder than before.

That had been a Cutting Curse. He hadn't known Granger had learned how to cast that. "Why did you learn the Cutting Curse?"

"It's not illegal," she replied.

"I know that," he said, clenching his teeth. "I was asking why you learned the spell."

"It's on the Defence curriculum."

"For the seventh year."

"Some people like to study ahead." She sniffed. "Besides, you recognised it."

He pressed his lips together for a moment. "Some people like to study ahead."

She huffed - like she usually did when her own words were turned against her. "Why did you learn the curse?"

"So I could defend myself if some Death Eater remnant came after me." At least that was the excuse Uncle Sirius had given for teaching him. Mum hadn't been amused but had accepted it. And had made him swear he wouldn't use the curse unless his life was in danger.

Something he doubted anyone had made Granger swear or promise.

*****​

Hermione Granger fumed. Potter was an idiot! Almost getting eaten by the monster, bouncing over the ground like a cricket ball and then grandstanding about his wounds… And he had the gall to question her for learning a perfectly legal spell! See if she healed him again unless he was bleeding all over the floor!

That reminded her… She cast a simple healing charm on the scrapes on her legs - short shorts definitely weren't the right clothes to go caving. Or for getting smashed into the rocky ground by some stupid boy tackling her. She should've done that sooner - if those scrapes got infected… She cast a more advanced healing charm. Just in case. Episkey was supposed to remove dirt and other foreign matter when closing a wound, but she didn't know if that would be enough to prevent an infection by itself.

"So… we know that the wyvern is smart enough to ambush us," Potter said.

"Obviously," she replied. "And we have to assume that it knew what it was doing when it started dropping rocks into the pond." That meant it was at least as smart as a raven. A raven the size of a small plane, with skin hard enough to withstand most spells.

"And that it takes getting hurt personally," Potter added.

"Yes." And that was Potter's fault. She frowned at him.

He frowned back. "Now, we need a way out of this cave without becoming monster food."

"And a safe place to hide from the monster afterwards," she pointed out. "In here we are, as has just been demonstrated, safe from it - at least from direct attacks - as long as we don't stray too close to the entrance."

"We can't stay in here, though," Potter insisted.

"Why not?" They were safe here. They wouldn't be safe outside, no matter how they got out. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. She wouldn't cry now.

"What about food?"

"We can summon a coconut and enlarge it." She took a few deep breaths. She had to keep her composure. Panic would be deadly. They were safe, for the moment, anyway.

"That won't last or work forever."

"I thought your parents would be here soon." She bit her lower lip - she hadn't meant to blurt that out.

He snorted. "That's my line."

She managed to snort as well. "We can stay here for a day or two. At least."

He shook his head. "And wait for the monster to get bored? We hurt it. I don't think it'll give up."

"We need the time to plan. No more half-baked efforts!" she told him.

"We almost got it!" he protested.

"We miscalculated and we underestimated its intelligence," she retorted. "We can't afford to do that any more."

"Then what's your plan?" He narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms.

*****​

Harry Potter stared at Granger. Turnabout was fair play. He was sure that the swot didn't have a plan, much less a better plan than his own. "Hm?"

"I don't have a plan yet!" she retorted, rolling her eyes as if he had asked a stupid question. "That's why I said we need time to carefully plan our next, ah, plan."

He smirked at her fumbling her words. 'Plan our plan', huh? "And do you have any ideas, yet? Somewhere to start?"

"If I had, I would've said so, wouldn't I?" she replied. "Really."

He shook his head. "The longer we stay in here, the more time the wyvern has to come up with something else to get us."

She scoffed. "While it's clear that it's not a mere animal, I am confident that we'll outsmart it easily - now that we have its measure."

She talked like a character in one of Dudley's cartoon series, yet thought purebloods were old-fashioned? But, right now, pointing that out wouldn't help anyone except the wyvern. "You're very confident all of a sudden," he commented instead.

"I'm confident that rushing into another half-baked plan would be a bad idea;" she said.

He clenched his teeth. "It almost worked."

"Who was it who said 'almost doesn't count'?"

"That's different. And the wyvern might still die from infection - or, as you would say, 'succumb to its wounds'." He grinned at her.

"Of course you would think that having a wide vocabulary was something to make fun of," she shot back with a deep scowl.

What? He frowned. "It was a harmless joke."

"I've heard that before, too. It's always a 'harmless joke', unless it happens to you, isn't it?" She glared at him.

"I make such jokes with my friends all the time!" he protested. Well, often.

"The difference is that I'm not your friend," she spat. "And I don't think it's funny!"

He was taken aback for a moment. Then he remembered that this was Granger talking to him, not some poor helpless first year. "But calling me the Bait Who Lived is OK, huh?"

"That was in retaliation for one of your 'pranks'!"

Oh for… "Didn't we go over this already?"

She blinked, then actually blushed. Unless that was a trick of the light - it was a little dimmer now. "Right." She said through clenched teeth. "Let's focus on surviving this."

He nodded, more than a little stiffly. "Let's. We need to get out of the cave without being seen by the wyvern. And we need a secure shelter to, ah, hide in." He'd almost said 'to shelter in'.

Judging by the slightly pouty expression on her face, Granger had caught that as well. "There's only one exit. And last we checked, it was trapped."

"We could make another exit," he suggested.

"How? Vanishing Charms won't work on parts of an object."

So she didn't know a digging spell or something like that. "Transfigure stone to water?"

She gave him a flat look. "Are you asking whether or not I can work such a transfiguration because you can't?"

He forced himself to smile widely. "Yes."

She sighed. "No, I can't do that, either."

Damn. But Harry wasn't out of ideas yet. Not by a long chalk. "Blasting Curses!"

"Do you want to bury us under tons of rock?" she countered. "Unless you have some training as a miner and in demolition, I'd rather not try to blast our way out of this cave." She blinked. "But that could work against the monster!" She smiled, then her face fell. "And if you knew how to cast that spell, you'd have already tried it when the monster was stuck in the mouth of the cave."

He nodded. He wouldn't have thought that finding out that Granger didn't know a spell - several spells - could feel so disappointing. Right now, he'd be grateful if she showed off a N.E.W.T.-level spell that solved their problems. "I've got it! The Shrinking Charm! We can shrink ourselves and sneak away and hide that way! The wyvern won't see us if we're just a few inches tall!" And they had both learned the charm in their second year!

Granger, though, didn't seem enthusiastic. "Can you cast the spell well enough to risk casting it on yourself?" she asked. "It's dangerous to cast it on humans - and very difficult. You don't want to end up with your body proportions out of alignment. That can lead to organ failure."

Harry frowned. He did remember some warnings about that, now that he thought about it. "We're not second years any more."

"How often have you used the charm?" she asked. "It's very complicated when used on a human."

He raised his eyebrows. That sounded like… "Speaking from experience?"

She pressed her lips together. "I didn't have a bad experience, but it was more complicated than I thought it would be - and I wasn't trying to shrink my entire body."

Harry blinked. "You experimented with shrinking parts of your body?" That sounded… actually that sounded both dumb and terrifying.

"I shrank my teeth," she spat. "Perfectly safe. But Madam Pomfrey still lectured me when she found out."

"Why didn't you go to a specialist for that?"

"My parents wanted to fix my teeth themselves. Having someone else - someone magical - do it wouldn't have been right. Doing it myself…" She shrugged.

He shook his head. No wonder Granger was so weird if her parents had raised her like that. "So, let's keep it as a possibility. I'd rather have some misaligned limbs that can be fixed at St Mungo's than become wyvern food."

Granger nodded, although a little reluctantly. "I would really prefer an alternative, though."

"Me too." He squinted - had the light grown even dimmer? He looked at the waterfall. "Oh, no!"

"What?" Granger looked around, then at the cave entrance.

"It's going to be evening soon," Harry told her.

"We can summon a coconut for dinner," she said.

"That's not what I meant," he explained. "Mum and Dad should've noticed that I'm missing - I should've been back home by now."

"So?"

"A Patronus Messenger should've arrived by now. They always send one if I'm not home by dinner." he said. "And if the sun is setting, then dinner was a while ago."

"Oh. We might be out of reach of the spell," she suggested. "The Ministry didn't register our spell-casting, either."

He snorted, but without any humour. "It's not the same. The Patronus Messenger should've reached me." Mum had told him that wherever he went, the spell would find him.

"We… we might be in the southern hemisphere, where it's winter and the sun sets earlier," Granger told him. "We can check the constellations… I mean, we could if we were able to leave the cave at night."

He nodded, but he didn't think that was the case. He felt hungry enough for dinner. And he thought enough time had passed, too. More than enough.

He sighed, swallowing, as he sat down, back against the wall.

His parents wouldn't be swooping in and saving them.

Harry closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. They were alone here, on this island. Alone with a murderous wyvern. And no help was coming.

Damn.

"Uh… it'll be alright? There are other ways to find us?"

He looked at Granger, who was smiling weakly, very weakly, at him. "If a Patronus Messenger can't find us, then I doubt any other spells will work." He shook his head. This was… this was far worse than he had thought.

Granger sat down next to him, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them.

They remained like that for a while.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 7: The Breakout Part 1

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 6th, 1996

Ron Weasley wished he had an Invisibility Cloak. Or knew how to cast a Disillusionment Charm. Or had nicked one of Fred and George's Invisibility Potions. The real ones, not the ones that fooled the drinker into thinking that they were invisible when they were actually the only one who couldn't see themselves. But since none of that was the case, he just kept quiet and tried not to draw attention to himself as he listened to Harry's dad sum up the results of his investigation - he had no doubt that he wasn't supposed to be here for that.

And neither was Lavender, who was sharing an armchair in the corner with him. He glanced at her; she had taken the news hard. Almost as hard as Rose. And unlike Harry's little sister, who, incidentally, had already been sent to her room, Lavender wasn't trying to hide how worried she was. Ron squeezed her thigh encouragingly. "It'll be OK," he whispered. "You'll see."

She nodded, taking a deep breath, but he could see that her eyes were wet - she was close to tears. So he wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead of her waist and pulled her close. And let her cry into his chest while Harry's dad was talking.

"...and we're sure that both Harry and Miss Granger vanished from the shop after picking up an unregistered and - or so the owner claims - unknown Portkey."

"Unknown Portkey?" Sirius scoffed. "That scumbag knew what it was! He was selling all sorts of dark and shady stuff!"

Harry's dad looked at his friend. "Why would they have left a Portkey lying around on their shelves where anyone could grab it if they had known about it?"

"It's a trap for shoplifters?"

"Hermione wouldn't steal anything!" Granger's mum blurted out.

"And neither would Harry," Harry's mum added. "We have to find out who made that Portkey, not why it was there. If it had been a trap, they would've covered it up, anyway."

"Exactly, dear," Harry's dad agreed. "We've interrogated the clerk, and he claimed not to know where the rope was from, either." He shook his head. "Apparently, he had never asked about it."

"Did he think that it was a normal piece of rope?" Granger's mum asked. "What shop was it?"

"Leopold's Slightly-Used Goods," Harry's dad told her. "In the past, we've found a variety of stolen goods in there, but the owner managed to successfully claim ignorance of their origins and so got off with fines."

"Figures," Sirius muttered.

"So, does the owner know where that rope is from?" Harry's mum asked.

"We're still looking for the owner, Leopold Müller - an emigré from Prussia."

"Might've been a supporter of Grindelwald," Sirius said. "A number of them came over after '46. If Britain had been as tough on them as the rest of Europe, Harry wouldn't be missing right now."

"Sirius!" Harry's mum hissed. "Don't start with this now! We have to focus on finding Harry - and Miss Granger."

"Hermione," Granger's mum added.

Lavender pulled back from Ron and nodded as well. Not that any of the adults noticed.

"Yes, of course," Harry's dad told the muggle woman. "We're looking for both of them."

"But you can't find them. Not with magic," Granger's mum said.

"Not with the magic we - us here - have access to," Harry's mum corrected her. "But we've contacted Dumbledore for help."

"And what can he do that you can't?"

Ron wasn't the only one blinking at the woman. Dumbledore was Dumbledore! If anyone knew a spell to defeat whatever enchantments were blocking a Patronus Messenger, it would be the Headmaster! He had defeated both Grindelwald and the Dark Lord, after all! No wizard or witch was his equal.

"He's Dumbledore," Sirius said. "He's forgotten more spells than we ever learned."

"And you think that he can save Hermione and your son?"

"Yes." Harry's dad sounded confident, but the slight pause before he replied wasn't a good sign, in Ron's opinion. "He also, ah, has some contacts that we don't have access to."

"Criminals," Sirius told Granger's mum.

"Criminals? And he's the Headmaster of Hogwarts?"

"Hey! He fought in two wars - he knows a lot of people. And a lot of them owe him," Sirius replied, frowning. "His contacts were very useful during the last war. Saved a few of us. He'll save both Harry and your daughter as well, don't worry."

"Yes," Harry's dad nodded. "We'll find them, don't worry."

Mrs Granger nodded, but she didn't seem to be reassured.

Ron wasn't, either. He could only hope that Harry - and Granger - were safe. If something had… No. He shook his head. He wouldn't think about such things. Harry was fine. He had to be.

"Now," Harry's dad went on, looking at Ron and Lavender, "I think you two should head home. We don't want any more parents worrying about their children."

Ron was about to protest - his parents weren't worrying; they knew he was with the Potters - but the fireplace flared up and everyone turned, wands drawn.

Dumbledore stepped out of it with his usual smile. He was wearing dark blue robes with small orange stars on them - for him, that was almost subdued.

"Good evening, James, Lily." He nodded at them. "Sirius. Mrs Granger. I came as soon as I heard - I was, unfortunately, not at Hogwarts when your message arrived."

Harry's dad nodded. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Mrs Potter echoed him. "Can you find them?"

"I would like to think so, although I fear it'll require some research - what I've tried so far did not work, which indicates that they are in a location that is protected against magical detection. Quite powerful protections, I have to add."

Which, as Bill had taught Ron, meant the spells were old. Protections grew in power with age.

Lily drew a breath that sounded almost like a sob.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "They are alive; that much I could confirm."

Ron smiled, relieved. His best friend was alive. And so was Lavender's best friend.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 6th, 1996

Potter looked devastated. The realisation that his parents wouldn't come and save them had hit him hard. Hermione Granger couldn't remember ever having seen him more miserable than he was right now. He'd always been confident. Or angry, like when he had suffered a well-deserved defeat as a consequence of his own actions. No matter what, he never seemed to give up. Or acknowledge defeat. But now… And he hadn't said anything in some time. Just stared at the ground.

Of course, knowing that they weren't just on a magical island somewhere, but on a magically hidden island, that they couldn't be found with magic - at least not with magic that Potter's parents had at their disposal - was a shock. Hermione had been prepared for it, after the Trace hadn't worked, but to have it confirmed… And it must have been worse for Potter, who had insisted that they'd be saved soon.

She glanced at him. He wasn't crying, but… he looked so vulnerable. Completely unlike the arrogant boy she knew. She almost wrapped her arm around his shoulders but caught herself in time. They couldn't afford to wallow in misery. They had to be active. Proactive. Do something to solve their problems. Now more than ever.

"We'll get out of this," she said.

For a moment, he didn't react, and she wondered if he had heard her. But then he scoffed and turned his head to look at her.

She pressed her lips together and raised her chin a little, meeting his eyes. "We'll get off this island," she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

"We don't even know how to get out of this cave," he replied with a deep frown.

"Not yet," she admitted. "But we can't give up!" She drew a sharp breath, blinking. She couldn't lose it now. She had to hold it together. They were in a sticky situation, but they had their wands. As long as they kept their wits about them, they would beat the wyvern and find a way off this island. Muggles had survived worse situations without any magic!

"Who's giving up?" Potter asked with a sneer.

What? He had been the one staring at the ground as if he was about to cry! "I'm not the one who counted on their parents to come and save us." Well, she had hoped they would be saved, but that wasn't the same.

He glared at her. "I almost got the wyvern with my trap."

"Our trap," she corrected him. Her contribution had been quite crucial.

"Now it's our trap, and no longer my fault?" His grin wasn't quite as annoying - or infuriating - as the one she usually saw after one of his so-called 'pranks', but it was more familiar than his lost expression.

She sniffed. "My part worked perfectly - it went for my bait."

He snorted. "I didn't hear you criticise my barbed spike."

"I assumed you knew what you were doing."

"Ah?"

"Yes." She bit back on a comment about phallic symbols.

"That's a first, then."

"What?"

"Trusting me." He shrugged.

"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You always criticise me."

She clenched her teeth. "My criticism is usually aimed at your intent and morals, not your skill."

"Ah." He nodded.

"Yes." She bared her teeth in a tight smile. That should've been obvious.

He snorted again, but this time, he seemed genuinely amused. "Well, I'll be sure not to disappoint you a second time."

"You better not. If you do and we end up eaten, I'll be very cross with you."

He laughed. "I can believe that. You'd probably become a ghost to properly lecture me."

She frowned at him for a second, then laughed as well. It wasn't really funny, but laughing was better than crying. Far better.

*****​

Harry Potter snorted once more, then took a deep breath. He'd needed that. And who'd have thought that Granger had a sense of humour? Not that it was actually funny - they were in deep trouble. Mum and Dad couldn't find them with a Patronus Messenger. Which meant that something - someone - was blocking the spell. "I didn't even know that that was possible," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Granger asked.

"I didn't know you could block a Patronus Messenger. They always found me," he explained. "Well, not without using the Fidelius Charm." That would have to be able to block even a Patronus Messenger - probably.

Granger gasped. "Do you think we're on an island protected by that charm?"

"Or something else that blocks spells," he said.

"But…" Granger bit her lower lip, he noticed. She went on: "Whatever spell it is - and some variant of the charms to render a location unplottable might work as well - someone must have cast it. Someone hid this island."

"Yes?" Harry asked. That was obvious, wasn't it? Then he blinked. "You mean…"

"They question is: Where are they? And who are they?" Granger said.

Those were good questions. But Harry had another thought. "They might be dead," he said. "These might be old wards, grown more powerful with time, even after the original casters died." That would explain how they could block a Patronus Messenger. As Uncle Sirius had told him, old wards often were very powerful - and 'quirky'.

Granger, to his surprise, nodded in agreement. "That's likely. Normal spells would end with the death of the caster, but wards…" She rubbed her chin. "And if no one is left on the island, just old wards, it would explain why no one has done anything about the wyvern."

"Or this is a wyvern sanctuary," Harry pointed out. "A private reserve, perhaps."

"That would require a breeding population; dragons, and I presume the same goes for wyverns, don't live that long. Or the spell's caster is still alive." She looked at him. "If they check on the island or the wyvern, they might be aware that we're here." She smiled. "They would know how to deal with the wyvern and save us!"

She was right. Anyone able to hide an entire island should be able to handle a wyvern - or breeding population, he corrected himself with a wince; that was a terrifying thought. But… "If they want to." He pressed his lips together.

"What do you mean?" she asked, eyes widening.

"They might not want to save us - not if that means that their secret could be revealed." He looked at the cave entrance. "They hid this island for a reason. A reason good enough to go to such trouble might be a reason good enough to kill whoever stumbles on their secret."

Granger gasped. "That's… That's…" She shook her head. "Who would do such a thing?"

"The Australian wizards kill any foreign wizards they catch on their soil," Harry told her.

"This isn't Australia, though," she said.

"Are you sure?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Yes. My parents are interested in the continent - they even considered moving there, at least before I told them about Magical Australia - and so I've read up on the flora and fauna. This isn't Australia."

That was a relief. Not many places were more dangerous than a magically hidden island with a large flying man-eating and magic-resistant predator, but Australia certainly qualified. "There are others who would kill to keep their hidden island, well, hidden." He ignored her smirk at his fumbling sentence. "Dark wizards, for one." There were lots of those around - Dad had told him about some of the more infamous ones. "If this is the refuge of Herbert Kohlmeier, for example..." He winced. The last surviving member of Grindelwald's inner circle, Kohlmeier had earned the moniker 'Butcher of Silesia' during Grindelwald's War, and he had done worse since his flight from Magical Prussia.

Granger had paled, but she shook her head. "I honestly doubt that such a wizard would tolerate a wyvern on their island."

"It might be a pet," Harry retorted. "Trained to attack intruders."

"If that were the case, there should've been a reaction by now from whatever guards are present," Granger told him.

Harry wasn't so sure - many dark wizards were mad, the Dark Arts warping their minds and eroding their sanity, as Sirius had put it. And Harry's godfather was an expert on the Dark Arts thanks to his upbringing. Come to think of it, a number of the dark wizards Uncle Peter had dealt with for Dumbledore hadn't sounded like the smartest wizards, either.

He shook his head. They couldn't afford such distractions. It was even more important to deal with the wyvern now, before whoever had cast the protections noticed them. "In any case, we need a plan to leave this cave and hide."

"We already knew that," Granger replied. "But now we have to assume that we might have to hide from humans as well."

And that further complicated things. He muttered a curse under his breath.

For once, Granger didn't chide him about his language.

*****​

Hermione Granger told herself that she had to focus on the problem at hand: the wyvern. They didn't know anything about who had hidden the island. Trying to second-guess the unknown wizards or witches wouldn't help them - quite the contrary, actually.

Although they could take some basic precautions anyway. "Hiding from wizards won't be too difficult," she said. "We can't disillusion ourselves, so we'll have to use muggle means to conceal ourselves. That means that if we're careful, the Human-presence-revealing Spell won't be effective." Which was a small consolation - although they would have to find hiding spots that also hid the markers which the spell would place above their heads.

"There are other ways to detect people," Potter told her.

"The Supersensory Charm will be nigh useless in the jungle," she retorted. "It'll overload anyone's senses." She had discovered that the hard way when she tested it.

"I wasn't talking about that spell. But you can have animals sniff someone out - a conjured dog is as good as the real thing," Potter explained.

She drew a hissing breath. That was true. "We'll have to take care not to leave a trace, then. We'll have to travel through water whenever possible - they won't be able to track us that way."

"Don't underestimate dogs," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be able to pick up our scents along the shore. And some have noses good enough to track people even better than that."

"Did your parents have dogs track you?" she asked before she thought better of it. She noticed him clenching his teeth and blinked. "They did? Really?"

"Occasionally. When I was little."

She snorted. "Playing hide and seek past your bedtime? I thought they would send a Patronus Messenger."

"Not always," he said.

Hermione shook her head. "So we'll have to avoid leaving tracks, then." How would they do that? They didn't have brooms… She blinked. "We'll have to float."

"Float?"

"We can cast Levitation Charms on enlarged planks of wood," she explained. "It'll be slow, but as long as we only use them for a short distance - enough to significantly widen the area any dog would have to search - we should be OK."

"Unless they simply conjure dozens of dogs," Potter said.

She glared at him. "Then we'll have to travel a little further."

He nodded. "Or we lay down fake trails. Your birds could carry cloth with our scent on it."

That was a clever idea. She nodded in turn. "We can do that. Although that would confirm our presence on the island."

"I think we already did that by wounding the wyvern," Potter pointed out.

She briefly pursed her lips. He was correct - almost. "Those wounds could've been the result of an accident," she said. "Palm trees can be remarkably tough." Well, she remembered from a BBC documentary that bunkers made from palm trees in the Second World War had proven to be surprisingly tough - that was close enough.

"I don't think they'll consider that possibility. People who hide an entire island seem like they'd be a bit too paranoid for that."

"Well, we're already assuming that whoever it is will be looking for us," she said. "I'm just pointing out that we could be lucky for once." They certainly deserved some luck - but that wasn't how it worked.

He nodded in agreement. "So, we're back to our original problem. We need to get out and find shelter. Wyvern-proof, and concealed, shelter."

"That almost certainly means a cave - anything else, we'd have to rely on not being detected," she said. "We could dig a tunnel ourselves in the soil." Vanishing Charms worked on earth, sand and similar material that didn't form a single object. "But if the wyvern finds us…" She winced. The monster would likely dig them out without much trouble.

He grimaced.

"I could transfigure earth into stone," she said, "but it would be quite noticeable if we wanted it to be thick enough to hold a wyvern at bay."

He nodded, then grinned. "So, you admit it's a wyvern?"

Oh, for heaven's sake! She rolled her eyes. "Do you have any productive thoughts about our problem?"

"Lighten up, Granger!"

She couldn't. They were still stuck in a cave, a murderous monster waiting outside, on an island which might be owned by a dark wizard who would treat them as witnesses to be disappeared. She blinked. "I think I just solved half of our problems!"

"Yes?" Potter didn't have to look so surprised.

"Yes. We can't disillusion ourselves, but we can still prevent the monster from seeing us. If we cover the area in smoke or mist…" She tilted her head, smiling tightly, as his eyes lit up.

*****​

That was a good idea, Harry Potter thought. If they could cover the pond with smoke, out to the jungle, they would have a decent chance of escaping the cave unseen. Although… "It might spot us in the jungle once we leave the area by the pond."

"Not if we keep it distracted," Granger retorted. "You've used a ventriloquism spell in the past."

"The Throw-Your-Voice Charm?" He grinned, both at her reaction to being corrected about the name of the spell and at the memory of that prank. That had been fun - Malfoy had been sure Slughorn was observing them while disillusioned. Granger, though, had quickly realised what he was doing.

"Yes," she said.

"That might work - though I'll have to imitate your voice as well," he told her. With a shrug, he added: "The wyvern might or might not be smart enough to suspect one of us sneaked out if it only hears one voice from the cave."

She nodded. "Good point. We can't underestimate it."

"Well, we can, but we shouldn't."

Another glare. He shrugged it off with a grin. "So, how do we produce smoke?"

"I guess that means you don't know the Smokescreen Spell."

He frowned. "I guess that means you don't know it either."

"It's not on next year's curriculum, and casting it in Hogwarts is harshly punished, so I haven't yet had any reason to learn it," she explained. "But as I understand it, it's quite popular in duelling."

"It was popular, but it's too easily countered these days," he told her. And it tended to trigger fire alarm spells. Harry wasn't afraid of breaking the rules, but the school came down hard on people who falsely cried fire - whether they had intended to or not. And since you weren't allowed to use it in duelling in Hogwarts until seventh year, it hadn't seemed worth the trouble to learn.

She sighed. "Then I think our best bet is burning wet wood - that should produce a lot of smoke. Enlargement Charms should help. We'll need to cast Bubble-Head Charms, of course, so we don't die from smoke inhalation," she explained.

"I can conjure a gentle breeze that will blow the smoke out of the cave," he pointed out.

"We'll still have to travel through the smoke."

Right. "And we'll need to be silent."

"That shouldn't be a problem," she said. "We can sit on a floating plank so we won't make much noise when we cross the pond."

Right, she had proposed something like that already. "Then we should keep the fire on the plank as well - or a fire, at least. That'll hide us from sight. Until we're in the clear, of course." Afterwards, it would act as a beacon for monsters. Whoever controlled the island wouldn't even have to use dogs - just a broom.

Damn. Harry missed his broom. If he had it with him, this wouldn't be a problem at all. Even with Granger in his lap, he'd outfly the monster. He blinked. Wait, his lap? What a stupid idea. You only flew like that in the sorts of stupid stories Rose liked to read. No, Granger would have to sit behind him, holding on to him as he put the broom through its paces, arms wrapped around his waist, chest pressed into his back…

He coughed. Damn, Ron ribbing him about not having a girlfriend must have stuck in his mind or something. He was better than that. And he had higher standards than that, too. It was Granger's fault, anyway. If she wasn't wearing short jeans shorts and that stupid top, he wouldn't be having such weird ideas.

"Potter?"

"What?"

"You looked disturbed." Granger was frowning at him. "Or disturbing. What's wrong?"

Damn. He shook his head. "I just tried to guess how much wood we need to cover the whole area up to the jungle with smoke thick enough to hide us."

"Oh." She bit her lower lip. "Quite a bit, I think. It would be easier if we had certain ingredients, but unless you're carrying a potions kit in your enchanted pocket…"

"I don't have an enchanted pocket," he told her. Mum had told him he could have one when he could cast the spell. Sirius had bought him an enchanted trunk, though.

"Then we need quite a bit of green wood."

He sighed. "I can see the treeline from here." But to cast a Severing Charm, from this distance... He rubbed his chin. "We'll have to use Cutting Curses, I think."

"To cut down trees? I would say so, yes."

And, of course, she would say so with that 'it's obvious, are you stupid or what?' vibe.

He clenched his teeth for a moment, then nodded. "Let's cut down a tree or two, then." He raised his wand, pointed it at the closest young tree, and sent a Cutting Curse at it.

Granger followed his example. Her aim was better than usual, he noted - all her spells hit. Then again, that was to be expected since no one was sending spells at her, unlike in a duel.

His own spells were perfectly placed, of course - hitting a stationary target at this distance was child's play.

"Accio cut trees!" he yelled next, jabbing his wand towards the pond. A moment later, the wood started flying towards him.

Granger gasped, taking a quick step back when the mangled trees entered the cave, scraping against the walls, but Harry grinned and didn't move until the wood came to a stop right at his feet.

He had mastered this spell, after all.

*****​

Hermione Granger eyed the cut trees on the ground. That was more wood than she had expected, but that was a good thing - they would need a lot of smoke to cover the entire area. All green wood, and there was also a lot of foliage. "That should do it," she said. "But we might need to float a bit of the burning wood out to the edge of the pond, to cover everything."

"Good idea," Potter told her. "Though that might warn the wyvern about our plans."

She shook her head, then had to brush a stray lock out of her face. Really, this was one of the most annoying parts of the holidays, having to deal with her hair without… She blinked and almost blurted out that she was stupid - she could use magic here! She flicked her wrist and styled her hair into a ponytail. "If the wyvern is smart enough to see through our plan, it'll be smart enough to do so as soon as smoke starts covering the pond."

"I still think we should only float the wood out once the smoke has already covered the pond," Potter replied.

"That'll be more difficult," she pointed out.

There was that insufferable grin of his again. "Nothing I can't handle."

She rolled her eyes. "Let's hope you aren't just bragging this time."

"Hey!"

She tilted her head towards him. "'I'll catch the Snitch before they can score more than five times'."

"That was bad luck! The Snitch didn't even appear until they were ten goals ahead!"

"You mean you didn't find it until then." She scoffed. "This time, there is more on the line than some silly game."

"And we almost won anyway, despite the Slytherins hexing two of our Chasers before the match!"

Oh, for heaven's sake! She sighed. "Can we focus on getting out of the cave without becoming monster food? Instead of, say, rehashing a stupid game from three years ago?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it and glared at her. "You do your part and let me worry about my part!"

"Of course!" But she was worrying about both parts. And there was something else. "We also need to decide where we're going afterwards."

"We'll burrow a tunnel and hide inside it. Deep enough that the wyvern can't get us even if it finds us. And you can reinforce it by transfiguring the earth to stone."

"I told you that would stick out," she pointed out.

"Not if we dig deep enough," he retorted.

"We might hit bedrock quite quickly - this is an island. I doubt the soil is deep enough." And Vanishing Spells wouldn't work on bedrock. "Do we count on finding another suitable cave?"

"We can use earth and magic to modify an existing cave," he said.

"If there is another cave in the first place." She wasn't so sure there would be one.

"Then we'll have to make one and camouflage it. Like a bunker. If we build it in the jungle, we won't be easily found." He grinned confidently at her.

"And if we're found? By the wyvern, or by anyone else?" This was dangerous. They were betting their lives on this working as planned. And if her years at Hogwarts had taught Hermione anything - other than a lot of magic - it was that plans rarely worked out perfectly.

"If we get discovered, we won't be any worse off than we are now - the wyvern knows where we are," Potter told her. "And if there's a dark wizard on the island, they'll know where we are as soon as they check up on the wyvern."

She pressed her lips together. Put like that… She took a deep breath. "Alright. But I reserve the right to blame you if this doesn't work."

He chuckled. "I'll see that I get eaten first in that case."

It wasn't funny. Not funny at all. But she laughed anyway, Even though she knew the idiot was probably serious. "Let's get to work, then," she said. The sooner they were out of this cave, the better. It was getting dark outside, too. Oh. "Wyverns can see well in the darkness. We'll be at a disadvantage if we flee into the jungle at night," she said.

He frowned. "But it'll see us even better during the day."

"Have you ever been camping and put up the tent in the evening, only to discover that you picked the worst possible spot when you woke up in the morning?" She snorted; she hadn't let her parents forget that for years. Unfortunately, it hadn't been enough to get out of going along on their subsequent camping trips.

"Speaking from experience?" He asked.

"My parents, not me."

"Oh. Too bad. Camping experience would be really useful," he said. "Muggle camping experience, at least."

"I've got some experience," she admitted.

"Good." He smiled. "So… you think we should wait until morning?"

"Yes." She nodded. "With any luck, the beast might be sick with an infection by then, too."

She didn't think so, though.

*****​

"Yeah," Harry Potter said. He didn't think so, though. The wyvern had had the entire side of its face ripped open, which should cause an infection or something. But while Charlie had told them stories about sick dragons, he had never told Harry and Ron about wounds getting infected or anything like that - it was always some magical disease. And he had told them how often dragons fought, and how brutal it was. Granted, the dragon keepers would tend to a dragon's wounds, but… His gut told him they wouldn't get rid of the wyvern so easily.

He sighed and looked round. "So… who's taking first watch?"

"First watch?" Granger replied. "Oh. Yes, I guess we should keep watch. If the creature manages to block the entrance again or finds another way to come after us directly or indirectly while we're asleep, that would be bad."

'Bad'? Harry almost snorted. Granger was understating things, which was funny in a way - usually, she'd exaggerate harmless little pranks all out of proportion. "I'll take first watch," he said. They were both pretty tired - well, Harry was, and Granger wasn't nearly as fit as he was - she had never been trained to play a week-long Quidditch match 'just in case'. She needed the rest more than he did - and he could stay up an hour or so longer to ensure she was well-rested when it counted tomorrow.

Of course, she frowned at him as if he had insulted her. Well, if she wanted to argue about this, he would oblige her.

But after a moment, she sighed. "Let's get dinner, then. Coconut OK?"

He snorted then. "Is that the daily special?"

That made her snort. "Yes. We're out of fish."

Chuckling, he got up and raised his wand, then visualised the last palm tree he had seen on the way to the cave. "Accio coconut!"

It took longer than he hoped - Granger was frowning again, he noted - but after a minute, a coconut landed at his feet.

"Where did you summon it from?"

"The closest palm tree I remembered," he replied.

"And how far was that?"

He didn't remember. He shrugged. "A few hundred yards?" She pursed her lips in response, and he asked: "Why?"

"Knowing how far we can go from food sources is important."

"We'll build our bunker in the middle of the jungle," he told her. "Coconuts won't be a problem." The jungle wasn't that big, after all - the palm trees would be in reach.

"I guess so," she replied, before sticking the coconut to the ground with a quick flick of her wrist and enlarging it.

"Won't that make it harder to cut it open?" Harry asked.

She looked at him, then cut the top off with a Cutting Curse. Show-off.

A few Severing Charms later, they each had a meal on a plate made of coconut shell.

"Bon appetit," Granger said.

"Thinking of visiting Beauxbatons for the next Tournament?" he asked before taking a bite of coconut. Mmm. He quickly chewed and swallowed - he was hungrier than he'd thought.

"Aren't you?" she shot back.

"Of course." They'd be in their seventh year. Ideal for the Tournament. "Though I thought you'd prefer to focus on preparing for your N.E.W.T.s instead of taking part in 'silly tournaments'."

"Having spent time at Beauxbatons will be a good addition to my CV. Also, based on what we saw at Hogwarts a year ago, I don't think I'll have any trouble with my studies while we're there - even if I were to be selected as a champion."

He snorted at her fake humility. "Do you think you'll be our champion?" If she thought so, she was delusional. Granger wasn't champion material. The last time, every champion had been a great flyer. Two Seekers and a Veela. Who was also an accomplished broom racer.

"We'll find out in a year," she replied with a frown. "Do you think you will be chosen as Hogwarts' champion?"

"We'll find out in a year." He grinned. Who else? He was the best duellist and best flyer in their year. He could beat Granger any day in the ring, and while Ron was good, he wasn't as good as Harry, and no one else came close.

She rolled her eyes. "How mature."

"Takes one to know one," he shot back. She really hated it when her own words were turned against her.

Granger huffed at that, and she didn't say anything else before they were done with dinner and she stood. Harry was about to make a comment about enjoying her sleep, but she stretched, and so did her top, and…

"I don't suppose you know a spell to conjure a pillow, do you?"

Pillows? He blinked. Oh. He shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Too bad," she replied as if that was his fault. "Accio grass!"

A lot of grass flew through the waterfall and ended up on the floor. She gathered all of it, then dried it with a charm before enlarging it.

"Like sleeping in a haystack," he commented.

"Not quite," she told him, unwrapping her robes and spreading them out on the floor.

Ah. He nodded. "You're making a mattress."

"Not quite," she repeated herself with a grin. Then she enlarged the robes. "I'm making a sleeping bag with an integrated mattress."

He watched as she filled the robes with the grass, folded it in half and stuck the edges together. That was clever, actually.

"I assume you can make one of your own," she said.

"Of course," he replied, clenching his teeth a little. He would have come up with that himself, once he was ready to go to sleep. Probably.

"Good night. Wake me up when it's my turn." She crawled into the sleeping bag.

"Will do."

*****​

Unknown Location, July 7th, 1996

Hermione Granger stifled a yawn. Dawn was finally breaking, or that's what it looked like through the waterfall, and she was sleepy. And she really missed her books. Having a good book - or any book - to read would have made this stupid watch much more bearable. Why hadn't she taken a book with her? Because she had been meeting Lavender, of course, and it would've been rude. If only she had an enchanted purse or pocket - she would have been able to carry all the books she wanted with her. But since she had a book bag at Hogwarts, she hadn't needed one. And they were expensive. It had seemed smarter to wait until she could make one herself.

Once they were back, she'd focus on that. And she'd also buy camping supplies and other things. And enough camping food to last for a year. She sighed. She wasn't sick of eating coconuts yet, but that would happen sooner or later. And she would get literally sick if she tried to subsist on coconuts alone for any length of time.

She chuckled. They first had to escape the wyvern before they would need to worry about malnutrition. Still, a smart person planned ahead. And one of them had to plan ahead.

She glanced at Potter, in his slightly malformed sleeping bag. Only his head was visible, and only his shock of hair at that. And he criticised her own hairstyle? Ha! She should dye his hair green and pink or something. See how long it'd take him to realise what she'd done.

No, that would be stupid. They needed each other to survive this island. Unlike Potter, she knew that pranking people without a reason was foolish and only served to cause trouble. She blinked. He wouldn't, would he? Trust, but verify. A quick check showed that her hair hadn't been dyed.

Good.

She looked out of the cave again. Yes, the sun was rising. Should she wake up Potter? No. The idiot needed his sleep. Especially after he hadn't woken her in time for her watch. The boy probably thought letting her sleep longer was noble, but all it would do was make him lose out on sleep, which would endanger them both. Sleep-deprived people were prone to making mistakes.

Well, he could sleep in today. Whether they escaped early or late morning wouldn't make a difference - they had no way to judge when the wyvern would be around.

She stretched again, then looked at the coconut. Breakfast was ready. Almost ready.

She leaned back against the wall. She could wait a little longer.

*****​

"Alright. We've got the green wood ready. Split so we can float the smaller fires out to the edge of the pond. We've got our own plank ready. Everything's packed up. Now we need the Bubble-Head Charms." Hermione Granger raised her wand and cast, then turned towards Potter. His head was showing the slight shimmering effect of the spell as well. "Everything's ready, then."

"Yes." Potter looked tense. About as tense as she felt.

Well, this was going to be dangerous. If they had misjudged, if the creature wasn't fooled or hampered by the smoke…

No. She wouldn't think about that. They would get out of this cave. Off this island. Back to their families. Back to Hogwarts.

She pointed her wand at the wood at the entrance of the cave. "Engorgio!"

The wood grew, filling most of the cave entrance - as calculated. No adjustments needed.

"Incendio!"

The green wood took a little while to start burning, but soon the flames were licking at the trunks and branches, and the foliage was curling up and turning to ashes. Smoke was already filling the cave.

Potter waved his wand, and a soft breeze pushed the smoke out of the cave. Perfect.

More and more wood was catching fire. More and more smoke was being blown out. This was working. Not that she had had any doubts.

She licked her dry lips. It was difficult to judge how far the smoke had spread. And it was growing hot in here. Very hot.

She gasped. "I think we have a problem," she said.

"What?" Potter asked.

"We have to go past the fire. And I'm not sure splashing water over ourselves will be enough to protect us. We may have underestimated the heat produced by the fire." She should've thought of that. This wasn't a campfire. This was a veritable bonfire. And even with Potter's spell blowing the smoke out, the heat was getting worse.

"Damn," Potter muttered. "We'll have to banish the wood into the pond when we're going out. The smoke will keep for a bit."

"Yes." But they would have to wait until the smoke had covered the whole pond - and until after they had floated the rest of the wood to the pond's other shore to cover the area next to the jungle. Still, not impossible…

Just difficult. And dangerous.

Then she heard the wyvern roar. It was outside.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 8: The Breakout Part 2

Ministry of Magic, London, July 7th, 1996

"...I really don't know. Please, you gotta believe me - I don't know anything about a Portkey!"

James Potter scowled at the shivering wizard in front of him as he leaned forward, placing both his hands on the small table in the interrogation room. "Really, Weatherby? It's your shop, and you expect me to believe that you didn't even know what you were selling?" He scoffed. "How stupid do you think I am?"

The man sniffled. "But it's true! I wouldn't have left a Portkey lying around like that! You know me - I keep my nose clean!"

James shook his head. "You shouldn't try to lie like that." He stifled a yawn; it wouldn't do to appear weak right now, despite the late - or early - hour. This scumbag knew what happened to Harry, and James would make him talk.

"But… but…" Another sniffle followed.

Was Weatherby about to cry? Then he was about to break. Time to increase the pressure. "You know what I think? You know what happened to the children. You know exactly what you have in stock and how much you can charge for it. Because it's stolen loot and you're fencing it!"

"No!" Weatherby shook his head frantically. "That stuff wasn't stolen - I got it from a wizard who was selling his great-uncle's estate. You need to ask him, Mr Cobblespun, he sold me the stuff on that shelf!"

"Mr Cobblespun has left the country," James informed him. "Family business in the New World." At least that was what the scum had told the French authorities when he'd purchased a Portkey for Iceland. And the useless Gendarmes Magiques hadn't bothered to question why a British wizard would come to France to travel to the New World! James was sure that once the Scandinavian ministry got back to them - which could be any time within the next few weeks - they would tell them that Cobblespun hadn't taken a Portkey to Newfoundland, but to somewhere else.

"But…" The wretch was gaping at him. "That's not my fault!"

"Exactly." James bared his teeth at the wizard. "He can't help you. He can't tell us that he was the one who sold you stolen loot, and that you had no idea what you were buying."

Yes, the wizard was now crying. "But… I didn't know about any Portkey! And there were no curses on any of the stuff."

"You're the one with a shop full of stolen loot." That wasn't exactly true - no fence would be as stupid as to exclusively sell stolen loot. They would mix it with lots of junk they got legitimately, so they could claim that they had mistakenly bought something stolen whenever someone found stolen goods among their wares. And Weatherby knew how to play the game. But he wasn't used to drawing so much attention. No one really cared about small-time fences. But kidnapping the child of the Head Auror? Harry?

"But… I didn't know!"

"You didn't know? And you didn't suspect? Really?" James scoffed again. "Tell me what was on those shelves, or I'll send you to Azkaban for life!"

The man paled. "Azkaban? For life? But… I only sold stuff! I ain't no dark wizardI I never hurt anyone!" He trembled, shaking like a bush in the wind. "Please! You can't do that!"

"Well, there's fencing stolen loot…" James glared at the man, clenching his teeth as he stood and walked over, then leaned down until his mouth was next to the other wizard's ear. "...and then there's kidnapping!"

"Kidnapping?" Weatherby gasped. "I didn't kidnap anyone! Honest! Please, you gotta believe me!"

"Two children walk into your shop… and they never leave. What do you think the Wizengamot will do when they hear about this? And one of the children was Harry Potter. My son."

"But…" The man was in tears. "I didn't know there was a Portkey! I don't know what happened! I didn't kidnap anyone!"

"You can tell that to the Wizengamot. Harry's godfather is on it." James walked behind the man. "Do you think they'll believe you?"

"But it's the truth! I didn't do anything to them!"

"They disappeared in your shop. And you know nothing?" James scoffed at him again. "What was on those shelves? What happened to them?"

"There was just junk! And nothing is missing - the charms would have alerted us if anything was taken out of the shop." Weatherby sniffled again. "Please - I don't know nothing! It wasn't my fault! I can't go to Azkaban!"

"If you don't want to go to Azkaban, then you need to help us find out where the Portkey took them." James sat down again.

"But how? I would tell you if I knew! I'll tell you everything! But I really don't remember all the junk I bought!"

"But you do remember, though. More than you think." James grinned. He had the man now.

*****​

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 7th, 1996

The sun had been up for a while when James finally made it home. But as soon as he stepped into the house, he could see Lily standing in the doorway of the living room. "James! What did you find out?"

She must have stayed up all night as well, he realised - he could tell that from her face, too. Her eyes were a little… He shook his head. Focus. "We know a bit more," he said, smiling weakly.

Her face fell. Then she took a deep breath and raised her chin. "But not enough."

He shook his head.

"What do you know?"

Sirius was here as well? James frowned as he stepped into the living room. Remus was on the couch, still asleep. And the rug in front of the fireplace was scrunched. "Did you sleep on the floor?" he blurted out.

His friend frowned. "I rested a little. But that's not important, now. What did you find out?"

James sighed and sat down in his favourite chair. Which, he noticed, smelt like dog. And he was too tired to clean it with a spell. Damn, this felt like the bad old days during the war. How often had they gathered like this, ready to head out and fight? Standing guard?

He shook his head. He had to focus. "I convinced Weatherby - that's the shop's owner - to donate his memory. We also have the clerk's memory. So we can find out what the Portkey Harry activated looked like." He stifled a yawn. "But we need Albus's Pensieve for that." Too bad that the clerk hadn't actually seen what had happened.

"I'll go fetch it!" Sirius said, whirling and striding towards the fireplace.

"Wait!" Lily snapped. "You want to fetch the Pensieve?"

"Well, yes?" Sirius looked confused. "We need it, don't we?"

James sighed. He was too tired for that. All of them were - Sirius usually wasn't this… this much like Padfoot unless he'd just transformed.

"What's going on?"

Ah. Remus had woken up.

"We've got the memory of the shop's owner," Lily explained. "And now we need to go and ask Albus if we can use his Pensieve." Her expression told James that she considered the answer a formality. A sentiment with which he wholeheartedly agreed.

"Ah." Remus got up. "I'll open the Floo for us, then. I hope Albus is already awake."

James didn't care. And he didn't think that the others cared. This was about Harry. And about Miss Granger, he reminded himself. Couldn't forget the other missing student. At least the Grangers weren't here, fortunately.

"Let's go," he said.

"Shouldn't you take a Pepper-Up Potion?" Sirius asked.

"Already took one," James told him. And a second one was… Well, it would render him awake - and cure any cold he might've caught - but he'd crash hard afterwards.

Sirius nodded. He didn't suggest that James went to sleep while they handled things, of course - his friend knew better.

James could sleep once they knew what kind of Portkey the idiot had left on the shelves of his shop.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 7th, 1996

Damn. Harry Potter clenched his teeth. The fire was growing hotter than he'd expected. And the wyvern was outside the cave. They needed to float the smaller fires to the edge of the pond, but with the big fire in the way, they couldn't see well enough… He really should have learned the Flame-Freezing Charm, even though the Water-Making Spell was usually fine to deal with fire and had more uses...

"What do we do?" Granger asked. "We have to do something."

He glanced at her. With the smoke filling the cave entrance and covering the pond outside, the light was dim inside here, but he could see she was worried. Obviously, she hadn't learned the Flame-Freezing Charm either. "We'll have to fly through the fire. But first, we need to ensure that the whole area outside is covered."

The wyvern roared again. Would it try to enter the cave? Despite the smoke? The fire might not hurt it, not much - wyverns were related to dragons, after all.

Harry shook his head. They had to stick to the plan. Now or never. "We'll have to be quick. Float the smaller fires to the edge of the pond right after we banish the main fire into the pond. Then we float out through the smoke."

"That won't be long enough to let the smaller fires cover the area to the jungle," Granger pointed out. "And if we wait after banishing the main fire…"

"...then the smoke over the pond thins out," he finished for her. "And with the wyvern right there…"

"Yes." She wiped sweat from her face. "We'll have to levitate the fires blindly. And wait."

He nodded, feeling sweat run down his face. It burned when it entered his eyes. Damn. "Alright." He flicked his wand, ending the Gentle Breeze Charm, and cast a Water-Making Spell, dousing both of them in cold water.

Granger shrieked. "What… Ah."

He quickly recast the Gentle Breeze Charm. "Alright. On three. One. Two. Three."

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

He waved his wand, focusing on the thick plank to the left which he could barely see through the smoke - just its tail end. But that was enough for the spell to take hold, and he saw the plank rise, embers dropping down when it wobbled a little.

Clenching his teeth, he pushed his wand forward, pointing towards the mouth of the cave - and beyond. The plank with the logs stuck to it started to move. Slowly. Too slowly. It needed to move faster to pass through the waterfall without the fire being extinguished. He cursed under his breath, blinking as sweat ran into his eyes, and concentrated on moving the plank faster.

The plank passed through the waterfall - he felt the push of the falling water. He could no longer see it - it had disappeared in the smoke - but he had a feeling, roughly, where it was. It was over the pond now. Moving towards the edge of the pond. But how long did it have to go still? At the speed it was going, it would be… somewhere above the pond.

Damn. He took a deep breath and tried to visualise the pond and the small strip of clear ground between the edge of the pond and the start of the forest. Damn. He hadn't had any trouble when he had imagined it before the fire. But with all the smoke…

The wyvern roared again. Louder. Angrier, if that was possible.

And the smoke suddenly blew into the cave, his Gentle Breeze Charm overwhelmed. How… Bloody hell! The waterfall at the mouth of the cave was moving back and forth - the wyvern was flapping its wings and driving the smoke and water back into the cave with each stroke of its wings! "It can hover? How's that possible?"

"Dragons can hover for short periods of time," Granger said. "Can you cast a stronger wind spell?"

"Not without dropping the fire," he told her. And… where was the plank now? Still over the pond or over dry ground again? Could he risk it? Or should he keep it moving for a little longer? "Have you gotten your fire to the edge of the pond?"

"I think so. The wyvern distracted me," Granger replied.

Had the creature planned this? Just how smart was this wyvern? And how far had his fire floated?

The smoke had filled the entire cave now - he couldn't see Granger any more. And that meant the smoke over the pond would be gone.

And the heat… the hot air wasn't being blown out of the cave any more, but blown back in. It was rapidly becoming too hot to stay in here.

Suddenly, cold water drenched him. "I dropped the plank. Over solid ground… I think," Granger told him.

He did the same, hoping his plank had travelled far enough. Then he recast the Gentle Breeze Charm.

"It cannot hover for too long, not a creature its size," Granger said. "We just need to hold out a little longer."

Was she trying to convince him - or herself? Harry didn't care. He pushed against the draft from the wyvern's wing with everything he could manage. Not that it was much - but at least it kept the heat down a little.

Granger's Water-Making Spell helped as well - and that had been his idea.

Still, if the wyvern kept this up, they'd have to banish the fire into the pond if they didn't want to get burned.

Suddenly, the heat grew even worse. "What the hell? It's getting hotter?"

"The fire's vaporising the water from my spell!" Granger exclaimed. "It's turning to steam! And steam carries heat better than air!"

They were being boiled alive? "We have to banish the fire!" he snapped. "Before we're cooked!"

For once, Granger didn't argue - she snapped her wand forward, and the big fire was pushed towards the pond. She muttered something and repeated the Banishing Charm. More logs were pushed into the water. The heat receded, too.

But so would the smoke. It was now or never. "Mount up!" Harry snapped. "Levitate the plank!" He was already casting the Ventriloquism Charm.

"But… the smoke's thinning. And the wyvern is flying in front of the cave."

"Not any more!" He yelled - the wings weren't pushing air into the cave any more. "But we have to hurry."

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The plank rose up until it was about a yard high. Harry climbed on, straddling it, then helped Granger up, pulling her in front of him. "Push us out!"

"This is crazy!" she snapped - but the plank started moving.

Harry focused on his spell: "We're going to die!" "We have to do something!" "It's waiting outside!" "Oh, no!"

He held his breath as they flew through the remains of the fire, weak flames flickering beneath them. Then they hit the waterfall - and were out of the cave, floating over the pond. Inside a rapidly thinning cloud of smoke.

With the wyvern close by.

*****​

"Oh, no! We're trapped here! Save me!"

Hermione Granger tried to ignore the voices Potter was making behind them with his spell. They were in the cloud of smoke covering the pond - which wasn't nearly as thick as she had planned. Or expected. And somewhere close - far too close - the wyvern was flying around. Any moment now, its wings would part the cloud of smoke…

She trembled and willed the plank she and Potter were sitting on to move faster. To fly, instead of floating. Towards the jungle. Fly. Faster than the smoke was fading. She could only hope that the wyvern was fooled by Potter's spell.

They were still far slower than a broom - even the school brooms were faster. If the creature spotted them, they'd be dead. And they were still over the pond - she could see the water beneath her; her feet were almost touching it. But she could see the ground, too - they must be close to the edge of the pond now.

She gasped when she heard the wyvern roar and reflexively looked over her shoulder. Through the fading smoke, she saw the massive beast hovering in front of the cave again, wings flapping furiously.

And each stroke parted the smoke even more.

She suppressed a whimper. If the wyvern heard them… A spell that muffled all sound, not just speech, would be really useful right now. But they didn't have that, so they would have to be silent.

She could see the edge of the pond now, far too clearly. There was a fire burning on the shore, logs half in the water. There should be two fires, though - one must have fallen into the water. The smoke that fire was producing wouldn't be enough to hide them until they vanished into the jungle - because she could still see the wyvern behind them, as a quick glance showed. Which meant the monster could see them as well.

Another roar made her jerk, and she had to quickly adjust the course of the plank as it bucked. If the monster turned its head, they were done for.

No! She drew a breath through her clenched teeth, gripping her wand so hard she feared she might break it, and pushed on. They were past the pond now, over land - she could see the edge of the jungle, ahead of them. But the underbrush they needed, the thick foliage that would hide them from the wyvern's eyes, was still a hundred yards away.

Which was too far. They wouldn't make it. Any moment now, the wyvern would notice them - and would speed after them. No, it would rise, then swoop down, like a giant bird of prey.

She blinked tears from her eyes. Halfway there - they had passed the first palm tree. But they had also left the smoke cloud. She felt naked. Exposed. Helpless. Why couldn't she push the plank to fly faster? Brooms used the same charms! Why hadn't she studied how brooms were made? If she had been able to enchant a broom, they would be safe now.

A dozen yards left. She was weaving between the trees now, and the palm trees were giving way to taller trees. Almost there.

She leaned to the side, as if she were flying a broom, rounding a thick trunk, branches and foliage scraping against her leg and shoulders, tugging at her hair. Almost…

"Fuck!" Potter cursed.

A moment later, the wyvern roared.

It had seen them! They were dead! No!

"Fly! Fly!" Potter screamed. "It's coming after us!"

No! She tensed, focusing everything into her spell. They sped up, breaking through the underbrush - but it was too late. The wyvern was on their tail.

Potter started casting curses as they flew between two tall, thick trees. She heard an explosion behind her. And the monster roared again.

"Fly us into the thick of it! Where the trees are too dense for it to follow us!"

What did he think she was doing? Damn! She clenched her teeth and pushed on, almost ramming another tree. This far into the jungle, the underbrush was growing less dense again. Lack of light, her stupid brain informed her. It made flying easier - but they couldn't hide here. Not if the wyvern managed to break through.

And, judging by Potter's cursing and the crashing noise behind them, the monster had just done so.

It roared, and Hermione froze for a moment. Too close! Too close! Without looking, she leaned to the side as she steered the plank into a hard left turn. A shadow shot past them, and she shrieked when she felt herself losing her one-handed grip on the plank.

Then Potter's arm closed around her. "Keep going!" he yelled as she heard trees splinter behind them. "It's crashed!"

She kept going, half-circling back towards the denser parts of the underbrush. A moment later, they dived through a particularly tall bush, and she had to shield her face with her arm to avoid branches hitting it. Her shoulder slammed into a thicker branch, almost dislodging her again, but she kept going. Her scalp hurt - something pulled on her hair.

But she kept them going. Into the jungle. Through the underbrush. Away from the monster.

*****​

Harry Potter kept one arm wrapped around Granger's waist, his wand pointed behind them, and his thigh clenched around the plank they were riding. At any moment, the wyvern could crash through the trees behind them - or above them - swooping down with bared claws to pounce on them, slam them into the ground and rip them to pieces.

He clenched his teeth so they wouldn't chatter - and so he wouldn't bite his tongue if Granger crashed into something; Oliver and frequent encounters with Bludgers had taught him that. Sweat was running down his forehead, into his eyes, but he couldn't wipe it away - he had to keep his attention on the air and the forest behind them. At any moment, the wyvern could reappear. Would reappear. And he had to be ready with a curse. Even if the spell would only distract the beast, it was their only chance. If only they had a decent broom! Not some… slowly floating piece of wood!

They entered another dense bush, and he tightened his grip on his wand when branches and leaves brushed against him. He felt Granger jerk and heard her gasp when something hit her, and, for a moment, he feared they would crash.

Then they were through the bush. He looked up - they were still under a dense canopy of branches. But the ground wasn't covered with underbrush. And… no wyvern. Still no wyvern.

He glanced forward. There was another large and dense bush. "Stop!" he snapped in a whisper.

"What?"

"Stop in the bush ahead of us."

"What? We'll die!"

"The wyvern isn't chasing us any more. We've lost it."

"Oh."

She slowed down, then stopped the plank inside the bush.

For a moment, the only sound Harry could hear was his and Granger's laboured breathing. Panting.

Then he heard the familiar roar - but far away. He shivered. "We've lost it," he repeated in a whisper.

"Yes," Granger replied. "Oh, God…"

The plank suddenly started to descend, and he barely managed to get his feet on the ground before it dropped to the jungle floor. Granger didn't - he almost toppled over when she sagged in his grip before he could gently lower her down as well.

"Oh my God!" she whispered, kneeling on the ground. "We almost died. We almost got eaten."

He swayed for a moment - he must have strained his muscles, clinging to the plank. That must be it. Then he sat down himself, shivering. She was right. They had almost died. If Granger hadn't timed that turn perfectly, the wyvern would've… would've…

He felt nauseous. They had come so close to dying… "Merlin's beard!" he muttered, then closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down. It didn't work too well - his hands were still shaking, and his teeth… It was worse than after a Seeker duel. Far worse.

But Granger was even worse off. She was trembling - no, shaking like a leaf in the wind. He could hear her teeth chatter. Shock, he realised. Uncle Peter had told him about it. When the battle was over, when the tension left, people started shaking.

Without thinking, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Granger. "We're alive."

"We're alive," she repeated his words. "Alive."

"Yes."

He could feel her breathing slow down as they sat on the ground, clinging to each other. He closed his eyes again, listening to his own breathing. And Granger's. They were alive. Alive. They had gotten away from the wyvern. Their plan had worked. Mostly worked.

"Damn," he muttered.

Granger had stopped shaking, he noticed after a while. She was still clinging to him. Why? They had been almost killed before, hadn't they? They'd barely escaped into the cave. "It's worse than last time," he whispered.

"That was just a brief… attack," Granger replied. "This time… how long did it chase us?"

"I don't know," he told her. "Not too long." It would've caught up with them, otherwise.

"Long enough." She sobbed. Once.

"Yeah," he agreed. And looked up at the canopy above them again. No sign of the wyvern. And they would hear it if it came through the jungle. Still… "We should hide, now. I mean, dig our shelter," he said.

"Y-yes," she agreed. Then she slowly released her grip around his chest.

He let her go and finally pulled his glasses off and wiped his face with his hand.

"Let me," she whispered.

Before he could answer, he felt something brush over his face, and he blinked.

"Make-up-Removal Charm," she said. "It cleans your face."

"Ah." He nodded, then watched her do the same for herself. He reached out, tugging on a piece of wood - a twig - stuck in her hair. "You've got something…"

"Ow!" she protested. "Let me!" Another charm and her hair, which had been a mess, settled into a braid.

So she could do hairstyling charms.

He blinked. They had almost been eaten by a wyvern, and he was wondering about hairstyling charms? He shook his head with a brief laugh at his own stupidity.

"What?"

*****​

Hermione Granger frowned at Potter. What was so funny? They had almost died! If the wyvern had been a little faster… She shivered again, gripping her knees to steady herself.

And hissed with pain. What the…? She blinked. Oh. Her legs were bleeding.

"What?"

She ignored Potter and stared at her legs. There were dozens of small cuts, from all the bushes they had flown through, and she could see a bruise forming on her left thigh. And the inside of her thighs… She clenched her teeth as she realised what the rough plank had done to her while she'd been riding it. And her arms didn't look much better.

She aimed her wand at her thighs and started casting Healing Charms. Silently - she didn't want to attract any other predators that might not have been scared away - or eaten - by the wyvern. If they heard her, or if they… "Damn," she cursed. "If the wyvern can smell blood, we need to move. After we heal up."

"What?" Potter blinked, looking at her, then tensed. "You're right. You've left a trail of blood."

"We've left a trail of blood," she corrected him, pointing at a few rips and tears in his pants - and the torn skin below. She didn't quite touch his wounds with her wand, but he tensed anyway.

"Do you want me to heal them?" Healing wounds could be tricky. Hermione had read up on potential mistakes and mishaps when she had studied the charms. Some mishaps were fatal if you failed to or couldn't deal with an infection - or a clogged vein.

"I can do it myself," he told her, frowning.

She sniffed. Typical Potter pride. Couldn't accept help even if it might kill him.

She finished healing her wounds - and she'd had a lot of them; she could have served as a test subject for an entire class learning weak Healing Charms - and looked at Potter. He was finished as well, though that didn't mean anything - his clothes had protected him, unlike hers.

Which reminded her… She quickly cast a few Mending Charms on her clothes. And then on his.

"Hey!" he hissed, apparently startled.

"What?" she asked. "You want to walk around with torn clothes?" If he said yes, she'd happily oblige him!

"What? No!" he whispered back. "But I could've done it myself."

"I was faster. And we need to move - before our blood trail causes trouble for us. More trouble." She didn't want to deal with Smoke Sand Leeches, or Giant Vampire Vixens or whatever monsters the Lovegoods hadn't yet discovered.

"If it could smell such tiny drops, it would've found us already," he retorted. "I think."

"Do you want to bet your life on that?" And it wasn't just a few drops!

He scoffed but didn't contradict her. Or answer her question. "Let's mount up again, then."

"You want to fly?" She blinked. Stupid question - she doubted that Potter would walk a single step outside their classrooms if riding brooms weren't banned inside Hogwarts.

"We won't leave any tracks that way."

"We will leave tracks - those bushes we flew through will have damaged foliage," she pointed out. "And we cannot assume that the wyvern - or any other predator - is too dumb to figure out what that means. Not to mention we'll have left scent traces all along our route."

And she really didn't want to hurt her thighs again.

"But we'll also avoid leaving tracks on the ground," he retorted. "And if we're spotted by the wyvern, we have a better chance of surviving if you can fly us away while I send curses at it."

'A better chance'. Not 'a good chance'. But he was right. She sighed. She really didn't like the idea of rubbing the inside of her thighs raw again. There was a reason real brooms used charms to cushion the rider. But she'd pick that over getting eaten by the wyvern. "Let's go, then. We need to find a good spot for a hidden bunker."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Potter said, grinning.

She sighed at his optimism as she picked up the plank again. "One moment," she said. She cast a Cleaning Charm to get rid of any blood that might have been left on the wood, then started to smooth some of the rougher parts of the plank.

"What's that spell?" Potter asked.

"Sandpaper Hex," she replied without looking at him. She still heard him draw a sudden breath and mutter a few choice expletives under his breath.

"Why did you learn that hex?" he asked.

"Just in case I should ever need it, of course;" she replied. "And who would've known? - it's come in handy after all!" She grinned at him.

"You didn't learn that hex for woodworking!" He glared at her.

"You didn't learn the Cutting Curse for dicing vegetables," she retorted.

"But the Cutting Curse is a versatile spell for Defence," he protested. "The Sandpaper Hex, though… all it does is cause pain. It won't take out an attacker. Unlike a well-placed Cutting Curse - or a Stunner. It's a bad spell to defend yourself with since whoever you cast it on will be angry as hell at you."

She shrugged and grinned at him. He wasn't entirely wrong, of course - like many curses, the Sandpaper Hex wasn't good in a duel. "But it's a useful tool for self-defence," she told him. "It's a good deterrent."

He blinked, then scowled at her.

She smiled at him and finished preparing their ride with a Polishing Charm.

*****​

Harry Potter suppressed a scoff. A deterrent? He knew who Granger wanted to deter - him. Planning to use such a hex, just to scare him off? There were pranks, and then there was… that.

He shook his head. He couldn't dwell on this now. He had to focus on getting away from here and finding a good spot for their shelter. The wyvern could return - could find them - at any moment. It had spent more than a day trying to kill them, waiting in ambush outside the cave, and it had even tried to smoke them out… it wouldn't give up.

"Done. Let's go," Granger said. She waved her wand, and the plank rose into the air until it reached hip height.

He nodded and let her mount the plank - well, now it looked more like a broom shaft - before mounting behind her. He felt her tense a little when he wrapped his arm around her waist as before.

And he tensed as well. Now that they weren't in a cave rapidly filling with smoke, trying to sneak or dash past an enraged creature, he couldn't help noticing that his bare arm was wrapped around her bare waist.

Focus! He told himself. Besides, it was Granger. The witch who had learned the Sandpaper Hex to scare him off pranking her.

That helped. "Looks clear," he said, raising his wand.

"Here we go, then." Granger cast a Shield Charm and directed their ride forward.

He kept watching the sky and their rear. Mostly the sky - the wyvern, by now, could be anywhere. "Stay under cover," he told Granger as they passed through a denser bush. Granger's shield pushed the branches away, but they were still going slowly. Carefully.

After a bit, Granger stopped inside a bush.

He looked up - the canopy wasn't as dense here as before; he could see glimpses of the sky. "Back up a little."

After a moment, she did, and Harry felt the branches brush over his back and sides again. One caught in his hair.

They circled the spot, sticking beneath the taller trees, until they hit denser underbrush again. After a while and several more such detours, they finally found a sort of clearing that wasn't exposed to the sky.

"Let's do it here," Harry said, getting off the plank - the pole. Without the charms of a broom, riding such a thing was uncomfortable. He stretched his legs. Very uncomfortable, actually. If only he had learned the variant of the Cushioning Charm that was used on brooms...

Granger looked a little stiff herself. "It's a bit small."

"I don't think we'll find a better spot," he told her. "Unless you want to circle round the entire island."

She looked like she was seriously considering that. "Exploring the entire island might tell us where we are."

"Let's get some shelter first." Then he snorted. "Isn't it your role to argue for more caution?"

She snorted in return, then raised her wand and started casting Vanishing Charms on the ground. "Let's dig."

*****​

A bit over half an hour later, they had excavated a decent sized cave with earthen walls and an earthen ceiling. It wasn't as deep as Harry would've liked - there wasn't much soil above the bedrock - but it would keep the wyvern out once Granger finished transfiguring the earth into stone. Harry was gathering more earth to camouflage the whole thing when he felt a cramp in his stomach. It felt like… Ugh.

He hesitated a moment. This was embarrassing. But if he was becoming sick… "Hey, Granger!"

"What?" She appeared in the entrance - far smaller than the cave behind the waterfall; the wyvern wouldn't be able to stick its head in this one. "No, I haven't finished the shelter yet."

"No," he replied. "My stomach's acting up. I think that coconut was bad or something."

"Ah." She looked surprised, then pointed her wand at him.

He almost cast a Shield Charm when she cast an unfamiliar spell at him. A moment later, he felt better. "What was that?"

"A spell to treat diarrhoea. Coconuts can function as a laxative." She nodded, then turned back to the cave.

"Wait! You learned a spell to treat diarrhoea?" There were potions for that.

She turned back round to roll her eyes at him. "Obviously, since I just cast it."

"Are you planning to become a Healer?"

She tilted her head. "As soon as I heard about the twins' new Diarrhoea Drops, I made sure to learn the spell."

"You think I would've slipped you a drop? Merlin's beard, that would've been gross!" he protested. He'd seen the results of one of the tests. That was… Really, how could she think he'd do that? He wouldn't do that to anyone!

"That's never stopped you before." She scowled at him.

"What? No! I never did anything with… diarrhoea." Mum and Dad had taught him better than that.

"You made me vomit slugs for half an hour!"

"That's not the same!"

"It was unbelievably gross!" Granger snapped. "And incredibly humiliating!"

Of course she'd think losing a duel that way was embarrassing! But… "I wouldn't make you shit your pants!"

"What a fine line you draw!" She huffed and went back into the cave.

He scowled. "And you made me pee blue!"

She stuck her head back out of the cave. "That was a simple colour change. I didn't make you piss your pants! You didn't have to clean your clothes afterwards!"

"It's still gross!" And visiting the infirmary had been humiliating. Not that he'd mention what Pomfrey had first suspected, of course.

She huffed and disappeared again.

He stared at the entrance, then sighed - and checked the sky before remembering that they were hidden by the canopy. He wouldn't have used the twin's drops on Granger. How could she think that? He wasn't that… He wouldn't have done that. He knew better than to stoop that low. Slugs were different. That was a known hex, and robes were easily cleaned with a spell. It was embarrassing, but not humiliating. Like any decent prank. How could Granger not see the difference?

He hadn't ganged up on her. He hadn't humiliated her. He hadn't used the nasty spells Sirius and Uncle Peter had taught him or vanished her robes or anything like that. He had only done harmless pranks. Mostly harmless. Hell, he had rejected most of Sirius's suggestions! And he had stuck to official spells when duelling.

Why would Granger think she'd need to learn a spell to cure diarrhoea to protect herself against him?

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 9: The Shelter

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 7th, 1996

Albus Dumbledore appeared at a familiar corner in Godric's Hollow. Covered by a Muggle-Repelling Charm still anchored to the remains of the barn it had once protected, so long ago that not even Bathilda remembered a time it had been standing, it served as a common destination when travelling to the village by Apparition. Not too many did, of course - using the Floo Network was far easier and more comfortable. And more private, which was a good thing. While the muggle residents of the village weren't particularly prying sorts, having long since grown used to the eccentricities of their neighbours - and Albus was certain that a few of them suspected or were aware of magic - gossip still set the tongues of both muggles and wizards wagging.

Nevertheless, Albus preferred Apparition to using the Floo Network. While he was in no danger of losing his skill at it, a little practice never hurt. And old habits died slowly, of course. Ambushes at fireplaces, or curses and other traps, had been common during both Grindelwald's War and the Blood War. Not that he thought that there would be a trap or ambush at James and Lily's, but with Harry having disappeared, it was better to be safe than sorry.

And he also liked taking a stroll through the village and showing off his muggle clothes. He smiled as he ran his hands over his tailored three-piece suit. He did cut a fine figure, even at his age. A distinguished gentleman. Although he had forgone the bowler hat - trusted sources had informed him that it was now considered old-fashioned amongst muggles.

He smiled as he walked along the main road of the village. It had changed since the time of his youth, yet had stayed the same where it counted, so to speak. Bathilda's home still sported that overgrown patch in her garden where she once had spilt a growth potion. The grocer still had two display windows, one for the muggles and one for wizards and witches - although since they could see the muggle one as well, they effectively had two. And the Potters' cottage still stood, barely changed since that fateful night almost fifteen years ago.

As he did so often when he visited, Albus stopped at the corner where the small road leading to the home of James and Lily branched off from the main street. Tom had walked up this road, to his death, that night. Guided by Peter, he had arrived at the same spot Albus had used a few minutes ago and had, as was his wont, headed straight for his target, arrogantly convinced nothing could threaten him and ready to murder a toddler over a frankly vague prophecy he had not even heard in full.

Albus sighed. Even after all the atrocities Tom had committed, Albus still felt regret at the sheer waste of potential. The things Tom could have accomplished, if only he had chosen a different path. If only Albus had handled his circumstances better…

He sighed once more. At the end of the day, Tom had made his choice, and Albus had made his own. And that was why a brave young wizard had risked not just his life, but also his soul, to lure Tom to his death. A braver wizard Albus had never met. Nor a more foolish one. Albus didn't know what Peter had done to earn Tom's trust. He had never asked, and the young wizard had never volunteered the information. Albus hoped that Peter had talked to his friends about it, but he hadn't asked that question either.

He smiled, sighing again. Many people credited him with Tom's death, even though the entire Order had been involved, some deceiving Tom's followers so he thought Albus was busy in Diagon Alley, but many of them also facing Tom in that final battle. And while Albus had been the one to cast the spells that had taken down Tom's defences - and the spells that had kept him from escaping - as well as the coup de grâce, it had been Peter, James and Lily who had made it possible. James and Lily by deciding to serve as bait for the trap, Peter by ensuring that Tom fell for it. And little Harry, by being born.

Granted, two others had also been crucial for Tom's downfall, informing Albus of the threat to the Potters and delivering the key to defeating Tom for good, respectively, but both actions had been taken for very selfish reasons, by very selfish people. Albus rarely wasted a thought on the first, other than keeping an eye on him to confirm that the man was sticking to researching potions instead of the Dark Arts in his exile, and if not for the second man's influence with the Wizengamot, and the fact that his son was at Hogwarts, he would bother with him even less.

Although with young Harry missing - and Miss Granger - Albus might have to revisit his stance, if only to check that Lucius Malfoy was not involved in this affair. Despite his apparent change in allegiance, the man had maintained his contacts in Knockturn Alley - and while Albus did not think he would be so foolish as to have a child kidnapped over a school rivalry, he could not entirely discount the possibility.

But first, he had to meet Harry's parents.

Albus walked up the road, nodding at the muggle woman in her garden, to the Potters' home. It was protected by new spells, recently cast, as a quick wave of his wand told him. Temporary defences, not proper wards, they would fade with time rather than grow in power, but for now, they made for a potent addition to the house's defences. Even Albus would have some trouble breaking through them, though he would manage in time.

He lifted his wand, announcing his presence, and within a few seconds, Lily appeared at the door. "Albus! Please, come in!"

"Lily." He nodded at her with a smile. She was dressed in casual muggle clothes as usual, and was smiling in a friendly manner, but he could tell she was distraught. Her hair had been hastily styled, and her eyes had a very slight red tint - she must not have slept much, if at all. Understandable, of course - who could sleep well with their child missing?

Inside the living room, he found Sirius, as expected, and Remus. And he had no doubt that Peter was on his way back to England already - the Marauders were closing ranks. "Sirius. Remus." He nodded at them.

"Headmaster." Remus still refused to call him Albus.

"Albus." Sirius, of course, did. Though Albus knew the other wizard would likely do so even if he had not been invited to.

Albus looked around. "Peter has not yet arrived, then?"

Sirius snorted. "You would know better than we do where he is, wouldn't you?"

Albus inclined his head. "I generally do not follow his steps very closely. Therefore, I am not aware of his exact circumstances when he received your message."

Sirius chuckled. "Plausible deniability, huh?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny," Albus replied.

Lily snorted at his quote, though the two wizards looked a little lost. She quickly grew serious again, though. "Enough of that. Albus! As you know, Harry's missing - taken by an unknown Portkey, together with Miss Granger. And our only lead has left the country."

"Which makes this an international affair," Albus replied. He suppressed a sigh. He might be the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, but the organisation's remit was almost exclusively limited to the enforcement of the International Statute of Secrecy. Whenever an international issue arose that was not related to the Statute of Secrecy, the countries involved had to settle it themselves. Which could be - and usually was - quite tedious.

"Yes. And we don't think that the Scandinavians will be very helpful," Lily went on.

Albus nodded in agreement. "I concur. Especially after the latest attempt in the Wizengamot to tighten werewolf regulation."

"The bill didn't pass," Sirius cut in. "Umbridge, as usual, failed to garner any support outside the bigots."

He was correct, Albus knew. However… "Indeed. But the mere fact it was proposed and discussed rankled with the Scandinavians."

"They do take werewolf rights very seriously," Remus commented - showing his usual restraint when the matter was discussed in his presence.

If only Britain were more open towards those suffering from that curse, Remus would not have to hide his condition. But things were as they were. "I could put pressure on the Scandinavians," Albus said - he was still one of the most powerful wizards in the world, after all. "However, I fear such a course of action might turn out to be counterproductive." The Scandinavians would likely resort to malicious compliance.

"But it's our only lead!" Lily protested.

"Indeed." Albus smiled. "But I think another wizard is more suited to deal with the issue at hand. Of course, I will remain ready to help when needed, you can be assured of that."

He was certain that Peter would be able to get results faster than political and diplomatic pressure would.

"Now, I have taken a look at the memories James just provided, and I think I have found the missing Portkey…"

*****​

Unknown Location, July 7th, 1996

Hermione Granger fumed as she transfigured more earth to stone in their makeshift underground shelter - they needed thick walls and an even thicker ceiling to keep the wyvern out, should it discover them.

As if Potter wouldn't have used those Diarrhoea Drops on her! She still remembered the time she'd vomited slugs for half an hour. She shuddered, almost messing up her next spell. The sensation of slugs appearing in her mouth, slime coating her tongue, retching, only to have the next slug appear… She retched for a moment.

He didn't have to act as if he were shocked that she'd anticipated his ploy, either - she'd been a victim of his 'pranks' too often to fall for one again. And, really, the worst she had done was to make him pee blue. That was a classic harmless prank!

She waved her wand, transfiguring more earth into stone. They would need wood, too, to prop up the structure. And reinforce it. Wood, transfigured into metal. Perhaps they could also create some furniture - makeshift stuff, but anything would be better than sleeping on robes stuffed with grass again.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Damn. She was planning for a longer stay. Like a wizarding Robinson Crusoe. But they wouldn't have to stay that long. They couldn't! Someone had to find them!

She took a deep breath and shook her head. She couldn't panic now. Not with a man-eating monster around. Steeling herself, she continued to cast.

"Looks good."

She gasped and whirled, her wand rising. Someone had sneaked up on her! Someone… Potter.

"Whoa!" Potter called out. "Watch it!"

"Don't surprise me!" she snapped. She had almost cast a curse at him.

"What? Did you think I was the wyvern?" He scoffed.

"No. But you could have been a dark wizard."

"We don't know if this island is the lair of a dark wizard," he said.

"Better safe than sorry," she replied. What reason was there to hide an entire island? And not just from muggles. And the wyvern was obviously familiar with wizards. She shook her head. That was more than merely suspicious.

"Have you ever…" Potter trailed off.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

Nothing? Yeah, right. "What is it?"

"I was just wondering why you think the worst of me."

She blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

He couldn't be serious! "Have you forgotten everything you've done to me?"

"Hey!" He frowned. "No, I haven't - but you gave as good as you got. Often, you did worse! You escalated things."

"In an attempt to discourage you from continuing this… feud." And it hadn't worked.

"You learned the Sandpaper Hex for that!"

"I haven't cast it on you, have I? Really!" As if she'd cast that on someone! She wasn't a monster! But using it on a piece of furniture to frighten Potter? That was different.

"Why would you learn a spell if you don't plan to use it?"

"It could come in handy - as I've already explained." They'd been over that not long ago.

He shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to make you shit your robes."

"Good. And I'm not going to sandpaper you."

"Good." He nodded curtly.

They stared at each other for a moment. "We need wood to reinforce the shelter," she told him. "Some struts or similar structures - earth transfigured into stone alone won't be strong enough."

"It looks solid to me."

"It's stone - it looks solid, but it probably isn't. And we don't want the stone ceiling to fall on us if the wyvern lands on it, do we?"

He paled a little. Hadn't he considered the risks? "No, we really don't," he said. "I'll fetch some."

He turned and started to walk away, and she bit her lower lip. "Wait. You need me to watch your back."

"What?"

She sighed. "I'll stand watch and summon you back if there's a monster coming for you."

"Oh." He blinked. "I thought I'd just stand in the entrance and cast a Cutting Curse at a tree."

That would work as well - that was how they had gathered the wood for the fires, after all.

"I'll help you, then," she said.

They went outside, up the stairs they had created. "A few branches with foliage to hide the entrance would be good as well," she commented.

He grunted in response. Typical.

She looked around. Was there a suitable small tree? They didn't want to create an opening in the canopy above them.

"There," Potter said, pointing to the side. "The small tree behind the shrub."

She nodded. "Alright."

*****​

A few Cutting Curses, and the small tree Harry Potter had aimed at, as well as the two smaller trees next to it, were lying on the ground. Granger had cut one of them, but he'd been quicker and got the second before she could shift her aim.

"Accio cut trees!" he called out, and the trunks flew towards them. With their branches and foliage still attached. Granger yelped and dodged behind him a moment before the trees arrived and buried the entrance to the shelter.

"That's why I wanted to cut them down to more manageable sizes before summoning them," she complained.

"I handled them," he pointed out.

She sniffed. "I didn't doubt that you could summon them wholesale - but, as should be obvious, they need to be cut down so that they'll be able to fit through the entrance. Which we left narrow by design."

Ah. He shrugged. "We can cut them more easily here. More precisely as well."

She huffed but didn't contradict him, which he took as acknowledgement that he was right.

"So, let's cut off the branches - but keep the leaves on the smaller twigs," he said. "We can use them for camouflage."

"Only until they wilt," she retorted. "Unless you know seventh-year preservation spells."

He didn't. "Do you?"

She grimaced. "No, I didn't think they would be worth the effort this year."

"Pity." He shook his head.

Frowning, she added: "I didn't exactly foresee that I'd end up stranded on a magically hidden island. If I'd known that would happen, I'd have learned far more spells."

"Well, with your grades in Divination, no one expects you to foresee anything."

"I got an E!" she snapped. "Both years!"

"Not in the practicals," he told her with a grin. Oh, that had been fun, seeing Granger not being the best in class for once.

"I didn't make up dreams and visions!" She glared at him.

He raised his hands. "You know what Trelawney said: Dreams can be visions, and we rarely remember dreams, so…" He grinned. "Who can say if we really didn't have visions?"

"You need a special talent for Divination," she told him.

He shrugged. It was an easy class.

She huffed again, then went back to cutting wood.

After a short while, they had the trees cut up and sorted the logs by length and width. "Alright," Granger said. "Now let's get them inside so we can set up a support structure for the ceiling."

"And some sort of door," he added.

"That's a little complicated... we would need hinges. I could create some, I think, but it would take me a significant time. Although it might be worth it…" Granger frowned as she seemed to lose focus.

"I was thinking of placing a boulder there. We enlarge it to close the door and shrink it to open it," Harry said.

"Oh. That's… actually clever." She pressed her lips together as if it pained her to say the words.

"Why, thank you! Sometimes, simple is better. We're wizards, not muggles."

"And yet, we use a lot of muggle tools and devices," she retorted.

"Well, yeah. But we don't have to as long as we have wands."

"I think the proliferation of various enchanted items - many of them adaptations of muggle technology - disproves that claim," Granger lectured him. "Too many wizards and witches can't work enough magic to be self-sufficient."

Mum said similar things. Harry pressed his lips together for a moment. If only she and Dad were here. And Rose - no, not Rose. This was far too dangerous for her.

"You disagree?"

Granger was glaring at him again. What for? He hadn't said anything. "Not everyone can be good at everything," he said. Well, Granger certainly gave it a try.

"But everyone could be proficient enough at magic to be self-sufficient," she shot back. In a smaller voice, she added: "We would be in a much better position if we were."

Ah. "We've been doing good so far," he said. "We're still alive."

She snorted at that. "That's a low bar. We've been here for barely a day."

"Well, when you take the wyvern into account..." He grinned. "But we've got food, water and shelter. We're doing well."

"Our long-term prospects are still not very good," she said. "We need a more diverse diet, or we'll suffer malnutrition."

"We can eat the wyvern once we kill it," he told her.

Granger laughed at that. Not some weak chuckle, either - she threw her head back and laughed out loud. Which, Harry couldn't help noticing, pushed her chest out. And emphasised how short her top was.

Gah. This was Granger. He really ended to get off this island.

*****​

Hermione Granger took a deep breath. She'd needed that laugh. Humour helped them deal with this sort of situation - all the books she'd read about such events agreed on that. Sometimes, Potter could actually be funny instead of an arse. "That was a good one," she said, but her smile died when she noticed his frown. Was he offended that she laughed at his… oh. He had been serious? "You don't really want to eat wyvern meat, do you? We don't know if it's toxic to humans. It could have parasites as well." She didn't remember reading anything about wyvern meat's edibility or lack thereof.

"Don't you have spells to check for that?"

Dear Lord, he was serious. "None I would trust for this. The spells I know detect poison, not parasites or inedible substances." Which was a major weakness, but she trusted Madam Pomfrey to handle such things. Or St Mungo's. Now, though, stranded on an island…

"That'll make testing berries or fruits a pain," he said.

He was right. "Yes. I've got a bezoar on me, but…"

"You've got a bezoar?" He stared at her.

"Of course I do!" she replied. Why did he have to interrupt her? "It's cheap and can save lives. Especially if Neville botches his potions again but doesn't notice before testing."

"Slughorn would step in," Potter told her.

"Slughorn isn't around when Neville's brewing in Gryffindor Tower," she pointed out. "And we're a fair way from the hospital wing."

"Right. That's why we're not supposed to brew in the dorms."

She scoffed. "I've told people that many times, but I don't remember you supporting my attempt to enforce the rules."

"You're not a prefect," he shot back.

"Our prefects are useless!" They hadn't managed to stop Potter even once. Nor had they stopped her.

"Hey! Ron's a good prefect!" Now he was glaring at her.

She cocked her head and stared at him. "He lets you do pranks. As a prefect."

"So does Dunbar!"

"Firstly, I retaliate; I don't 'prank'. Secondly, Fay doesn't 'let' me do anything - she just can't stop me." She huffed.

"Well, Ron doesn't let me do anything either!"

"But he doesn't really work too hard at trying to stop you, does he?" She raised her eyebrows.

"And Dunbar does?"

Not any more; the other witch had stopped trying to stop her. Hermione shrugged. "She tried."

Potter snorted. "In any case, a bezoar won't help us find food that's safe to eat."

"No, it won't. But that's not why I have one," Hermione told him. "But we can ingest small quantities of fruits or berries and see if we get sick." That would reduce the danger significantly.

"And if we get sick? Seriously sick?"

"The odds for that aren't very high," she said.

"That's not exactly comforting - and I'm the one who plays Seeker in Quidditch," he said with a toothy grin.

She pursed her lips. "Well, we don't have to do it right now; we'll be fine for some time." She turned to look at the wood on the floor. "Now help me put up a supporting structure for our shelter!"

She didn't wait for him to agree and started enlarging and cutting the wood into suitable shapes.

After a moment, he joined her. "What do you need?"

"We'll need struts and beams." She showed him the size. "It's longer than neccessary, but we can cut off the excess length when we put them up."

"How many do we need?"

She looked around, squinting as she calculated. "I'm no architect, nor do I have access to a CAD program or a static calculator program, but I think every two yards is the minimum."

"Well, good thing the shelter isn't that large," he commented. "Or we'd be here for a long time."

Really? She narrowed her eyes at him. Was he joking about their situation?

He blinked. "Oh. I didn't mean it like that."

She nodded, albeit curtly. Good. That really wouldn't have been funny. She cast a Cutting Curse and then looked at the beam she had created. A Levitation Charm made it float and turn. Still a little too long. A second spell made it fit. "We can use this as a template for the beams," she told Potter. "And this as a template for the struts." She pointed at her other result.

"I'll do the beams," Potter said.

"Alright. You can switch to struts once you're done with the beams. But let's test these, first." She levitated the second strut she'd finished.

Together, they managed to put up the struts, using Sticking Charms to anchor them to the walls - which took some time without a spirit level. And because Hermione hadn't exactly done much Do-It-Yourself at home - and her parents weren't the best at that, either. Floating the beam up and into place was comparatively easy.

And it looked solid. Hermione nodded. "Good. That should do - once I transfigure it into iron."

"I'll lock the door, then," Potter said. "We'll be here for a while."

*****​

Harry Potter watched as Granger transfigured the last beam into iron.

"And done. We should be safe now. Relatively," she said. "Depending on how durable its claws are, the wyvern could still pose a threat by digging us out, but we should have enough time to react."

"Like digging an escape tunnel by vanishing the earth," Harry agreed with a nod.

"After untransfiguring the rock."

"Of course." That was obvious. "Furniture now?"

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. "I guess so. This would be easier if we knew more Conjuration or Transfiguration spells."

"We'll make do." He grabbed one of the enlarged coconuts and took a sip from the milk, then shrunk the rock blocking the door - the exit. Whatever.

"It seems we'll have to."

He turned. Granger hadn't moved yet. And she sounded significantly less bossy than she had before. "What's wrong?"

He could see her set her jaw. "Nothing. Let's go get wood for a decent set of beds, two benches and a table."

He was tempted to ask again, but she glared at him as she swept past him. Not a good moment to pry.

Another small tree was cut down, levitated towards them, then cut up. Harry put the foliage - enlarged - over their shelter. It still wasn't perfectly camouflaged, but it was better than before. And hadn't Sirius told him that he should never aim for perfection when trying to hide something since perfection stood out? Although that had been about cover stories and excuses…

He shrugged, checked the sky again - still nothing - and entered the shelter.

Granger had been busy - she had two planks the size of beds on the ground already and was now using Sticking Charms to form a frame around them. "We can use grass to fill it, then put our robes over it, sticking them to the frame, and we'll have an adequate mattress. Or so I hope," she told him.

He nodded. If it wasn't adequate they'd find out, but the theory seemed to be sound.

Constructing benches was easy - just a plank and two smaller, thicker planks. But they were rough and full of splinters. "These need to be sandpapered," he told Granger.

"As soon as I'm done here," she replied, not looking up.

He started on the table, which was merely a bigger bench, and was almost done when Granger finished the beds and levitated them to different corners of the shelter. "We might want a partition," he said. "For privacy."

"Right." She nodded emphatically. "We have enough wood left."

"Not a stone wall?" he asked.

She shook her head. "We'd have to mould it from earth and then transfigure it… that's a bit much for a mere partition."

"Well, it would cut down on the snoring, a little," he joked.

"I don't snore."

"You do. A little."

She shook her head. "I checked in first year, when Parvati complained."

He blinked. "Couldn't you just cast a charm on her?"

"In first year?" She scoffed. "Besides, she didn't trust us to wake her up in time - she suspected that we'd wake her last so we could use the bathroom first."

"Ah." Girl problems. "So… who did snore?"

"Lily Moon's cat."

He laughed at that, and she joined in. Briefly.

"I'll get the grass," he said once she cast the first Sandpaper Hex. The sound of wood getting sanded sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Outside, it was still sunny - well, not that he could see the sky through the trees' canopy, but it wasn't dim. And it would stay that way for a while.

He still kept looking up as he summoned grass. The wyvern was still out there. Wounded and looking for them.

The grass landed near his feet, splattering him with clumps of dirt and earth - apparently, he had summoned this batch with its roots. Oh. Smiling, he kept summoning more grass, then started covering the shelter's roof with it. That would make for much better camouflage than drying foliage.

He was in the middle of covering the roof when Granger appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing? I've finished the furniture. Oh." After a moment, she added: "Good idea. But you should've said something."

"What, worried about me?" He grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "In light of your tendency to recklessly endanger yourself for fun, I think I'm justified in expecting the worst."

"But that doesn't tell me whether or not you were worried about me."

"You're obviously fine," she said, flashing her teeth at him before turning away to gather the excess grass.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he told her.

"Of course you would," she retorted.

"That's not a denial." He grinned.

"You're in denial." She entered the shelter again, a big bunch of grass floating behind her.

He counted that as a win.

*****​

Hermione Granger sighed. Potter just couldn't be serious to save his life. Well, not quite - but it seemed it took an urgent threat for him to stop making stupid jokes and doing reckless things. Although his 'last stand' facing the wyvern at the pond had been extremely reckless. It was probably the fault of playing too much Quidditch.

She divided the grass into two equal piles, enlarged it and stuffed it into the bed frames. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it would do. Enlarging her robes and mounting them on the frame - with one half loose to serve as a blanket - proved that. Tolerable, at least. And better than the sleeping bag she had created in the cave.

She looked round. Beds. Partition. Table. Benches. Enlarged coconut. She'd camped less comfortably. Almost like a vacation home. A cottage in the Alps, perhaps - one of the rustic ones for mountain climbers. All it lacked was some way to cook food, and if they needed that, they could probably mould a stove from earth, transfigure it to stone, and use coconut shells transfigured into metal as pots and dishes. With a bit of effort, they could stay here almost indefinitely. Like Robinson Crusoe.

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Staying here with Potter? Ugh. And there was the wyvern to deal with, still. Robinson Crusoe hadn't had to hide from a man-eating flying monster, after all, and…

Potter entered, and she lost her train of thought. He was topless. Shirtless. And wet - water was running down his skin.

She stared, then blinked. "What did you do?" she blurted out, focusing on his face. Not on his chest or abs.

"What? I got sweaty camouflaging our shelter," he told her with a frown. "So I decided to cool off with a Water-Making Spell."

And he just had to strip down for it, didn't he? She pressed her lips together. Focus! On anything! "How did you get sweaty? Didn't you use a Levitation Charm?"

"That's not exactly good for planting stuff," he retorted. "And manoeuvring small pieces of sod is too much of a bother with a spell. We don't do that in Herbology, either, do we?"

He was correct, but… "We won't be graded on how precisely you covered the roof in grass. And it's not a species of magical grass that needs special care."

"Well, we might not get graded, but if the wyvern spots us, that'd be worse than failing a test, wouldn't it?"

He still hadn't covered up again. She snorted. "As smart as the creature has proved to be, I don't know if the camouflage will fool it should it see through the canopy."

"It certainly won't hurt," he replied. "And isn't anything worth doing worth doing well?"

"Sometimes, perfect is the enemy of good," she shot back.

"Well, it wasn't as if I had anything else to do." He shrugged, and she didn't stare.

"Whatever. Let's eat," she said.

"Coconut, raw, right?" He grinned.

"Unless you want to risk your life going fishing?"

"I've already fulfilled my quota for today," he said.

She snorted at his joke. At least he was self-aware. Sometimes. "However, we would do well to find some way to diversify our food. Fish would be good."

"I don't know if there's a stream or pond nearby," he said, finally putting his shirt back on. "We'll have to explore the area. Tomorrow."

"Carefully," she told him as she enlarged the coconut and cut off portions for the both of them. "Wait," she added as she put the shells down on their table.

"What?"

"I'm making us cutlery." She took some spare wood, cut it to the right size and shape, then transfigured it into two sets of a knife, spoon and fork. All rather crude, unfortunately. "The knife probably needs sharpening," she said as she handed Potter his set.

"It'll do for a coconut. And probably for fish as well."

She pressed her lips together. She was well aware that knives meant for fish weren't at all sharp.

*****​

Harry Potter suppressed a sigh. Granger looked angry again, even though he had just complimented her. The cutlery wouldn't win any design awards, but they worked well enough, though that probably wasn't enough for Miss Perfect. Who had just argued that good enough would be good enough. Well, she should listen to herself.

He snorted at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Granger asked at once.

"I just remembered a joke Uncle Sirius once told me," he lied.

"Ah." She nodded.

He stabbed the next bit of coconut meat. Still good. But a bit of actual meat, or some fish, wouldn't go amiss.

"What was the joke?" Granger suddenly asked.

"Um..." He blinked. Think, quick. What joke could he tell her? Ah! "Do you know why Slytherin Aurors are so useful to the DMLE?"

"No?"

"Because you can arrest them without leaving the office!" He chuckled.

"Very funny," she commented in a tone that made it clear she didn't think it was.

"Hey! It's black humour," he defended himself - and Sirius. "Back in the war, most of the Death Eaters were Slytherins. And the rest supported them."

"I sincerely doubt that an entire house supported Voldemort," she retorted.

He shrugged. He had heard that argument before. "Enough did. And you know how the Slytherins treat muggleborns."

She pursed her lips. Didn't have an answer to that, did she? "Not every Slytherin is as disagreeable as Malfoy," she said.

He chuckled. "They still laugh at his comments and cheer him on when he cheats at Quidditch."

"Every house cheers their Quidditch team on," she said. "Even McLaggen gets cheered on when he replaces a regular team member."

Well, that was only natural, wasn't it? It was Quidditch, after all. "McLaggen doesn't cheat," he pointed out.

"He's too stupid to cheat," she replied.

He laughed at that. "That he is. And he thinks he's the best Quidditch player in the history of Hogwarts."

"Why do you keep him on the team, anyway?"

"Because he's a decent player who can substitute for any other player on the team well enough." Otherwise, they'd have kicked the git off the team long ago. But Oliver had taught them that what mattered was winning the match.

She shook her head. "You're crazy."

He snorted in return. "Only for Quidditch."

"That's crazy enough."

They finished their meal, and Granger stood and stretched. Harry didn't stare. But he didn't not see her either. "I think the sun's setting," she said, looking out of the door - the rock Harry had placed there only blocked three-quarters of it. "I'm taking first watch."

"Let me do it," he told her. She looked pretty exhausted.

"No. You did it last night."

"So I'm used to it," he replied, smiling at her.

She snorted. "Nice try. Both of us need to be well-rested tomorrow. We were very lucky today."

He saw her shudder and resisted the sudden urge to go and hug her. She wouldn't want that. "We'll have to get rid of it, you know," he said instead.

"The wyvern?"

"Yes. It hates us. I doubt that it'll stop coming after us until it's dead." Or until it caught them.

She sighed. "I'm forced to agree with your assessment. It doesn't act like a normal predator, which would be seeking easier prey by now."

"Yes."

"But how will we kill it?" she asked. "It won't fall for the same trap again."

"Then we'll make a new trap!" Harry told her. "I've got an idea or two."

She narrowed her eyes. "I hope none of them requires either of us to play bait."

"Well, both of us would be safe…"

"Safe?" she interrupted him.

"As safe as possible. But if we want to lure it into a trap, we need the one bait we know it'll come after." He smiled, if a little weakly, at her.

She scoffed. "Good night."

Well, she hadn't contradicted him, at least.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 10: The Second Trap Part 1

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 7th, 1996

"Hello. I'm Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew." Peter Pettigrew smiled at the muggles.

That Mr and Mrs Granger didn't laugh was understandable. But Lily didn't chuckle, either. And she had always chuckled when he introduced himself like that. That, more than anything else, told him how desperate she was.

"You're the specialist the Headmaster mentioned?" Mr Granger asked.

He nodded. "I've got some experience with handling such matters," Peter replied.

"He's Britain's best spy," Sirius cut in. His old friend wasn't making a stupid joke either.

"I wouldn't say that," Peter protested. "The best spies are those no one knows are spies." He forced himself to keep smiling.

"Bah!" Sirius scoffed. "Being known as the spy who brought down the Dark Lord hasn't slowed you down any!"

Peter didn't want to talk about that. Not at all. He shook his head, still smiling. "Let's not talk about the past! We've got two children to save, haven't we?"

"Yes," Lily agreed. "Did you watch the memories in Albus's Pensieve?"

"I did," Peter told her. "It was a piece of rope."

The Grangers looked dismayed. "A piece of rope? That doesn't sound as if it'll be easy to find," Mr Granger said.

"Most Portkeys are ordinary items," Lily informed them.

"Yes. What's important is whether or not Cobblespun knew about the Portkey," Peter said. "Or, at least, where he got it from before he sold it to Weatherby. And I bet he remembers that." Or would, once they took his memories.

That set the two muggles at ease. Somewhat. Their smiles still looked desperate, but they had some hope. Peter could only hope that he wouldn't disappoint them. As much as he projected a confident facade, he didn't know if he could do anything. Cobblespun had left Britain over a day ago. He would've left Iceland a day ago. Not necessarily a cold trail, but… He cleared his throat. "So, I mainly came to check on you. I better leave - the sooner I'm in Iceland, the sooner I'll get what we need."

Both muggles nodded. "Thank you, sir."

He forced himself to smile back. "It's what I do."

Lily escorted him to the door - she knew he only used the Floo Network while he was working when there was no other way. "Thank you, Peter," she said in a low voice as she opened the door. "You've done so much for us, and now we're asking for help again..."

He felt the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. "Please, Lily - you know I would do anything for Harry. Or for you."

"I know." She sniffled once.

"Send James my regards - I'll return as soon as I have Cobblespun." He nodded before she could thank him again, and turned to walk outside the wards so he could apparate.

He reappeared near his home. His real home, not the decoy registered with the Ministry - under a fake name - to lure out any remaining Death Eaters who might want to avenge the Dark Lord. None had surfaced so far, but that didn't mean anything - Peter knew better than most how extensive the Dark Lord's network had been.

Merlin's beard, he was thinking about it again. 'The spy who brought down the Dark Lord', indeed. He closed his eyes and sighed. If anyone knew the truth… He shook his head. He couldn't dwell on his failures. He had a mission to carry out. Two children to save.

He checked if his protections had been disturbed, but could find no traces of any such attempts. He still went in and through his home with his wand drawn and a shield up. No protection was perfect; there was always someone who could find the weakness and exploit it. Something else he knew better than most.

But his home was clear. He sighed, reholstered his wand and started to prepare for his mission. He had a pilot to hire and also had to read up on Iceland.

*****​

Þingvellir, Magical Iceland, July 8th, 1996

Disillusioned and riding a broom painted black to blend into the night sky, Peter approached the capital of Magical Iceland - well, the regional capital; the island belonged to Magical Scandinavia. Technically. The Althing pretty much did what they wanted, but neither Scandinavia nor Iceland had pushed the issue so far.

Peter didn't mind - it meant he wouldn't have to deal with werewolves. The full moon had been a week ago, but even when they weren't transformed, werewolves tended to have better noses and other senses than most wizards. Peter knew how to get around them from his long association with Remus, but it was still a complication he could do without.

He set down well away from the boundaries of the wizarding enclave, at the edge of the muggle national park, and pulled out his special Omnioculars. A quick twist of the dials, and he could clearly see the hidden building that housed the Althing. According to what he had read, it was built like a Viking longhouse, after the Statute of Secrecy had gone into effect, to claim historical legitimacy. Peter didn't really care. All he cared about was how to break into it. And he could see a number of weaknesses a wizard with his talents could use to get inside.

He lowered the Omnioculars and started to walk towards the building. The area was pretty open, and he had cast a Human-presence-revealing Spell, so he'd know if someone saw him. And despite his Owl-Repelling Charm - no spy wanted to be found by a Post Owl in the middle of a mission, especially not with a letter or package bearing their real name - he preferred not to travel in his rat form in owl country. The mere thought of an owl gliding silently towards him, claws extended, sent a cold shiver down his spine.

To be afraid of owls as a wizard… Peter shook his head. He couldn't help it. He was a coward at heart. If his friends knew why he had been able to fool the Dark Lord when he had taken the Dark Mark, they would curse him. Literally. Although Dumbledore knew. The old wizard had never said anything, had never even hinted at it, had never treated Peter with anything other than the utmost courtesy and respect, but he had to know. He was Dumbledore. He had to know that at the moment Peter had taken the Dark Mark, he had been too afraid to even think of betraying the Dark Lord. That had come later. Much later.

He pushed the thought away and focused on the area ahead of him. It was shortly after midnight, so the guards wouldn't be very attentive. And they would be watching the path leading to the building - if they were watching the outside at all; most wizards would enter and leave using the Floo Network, anyway, so most night guards just kept an eye on the fireplaces.

At least in his experience. Which was quite extensive. He might be a coward and a liar, but he was an experienced spy. As soon as he approached the wardline, he transformed and then carefully moved closer and closer. Even the nastiest wards usually didn't have lethal defences against vermin - most people didn't like dead rats, mice and other animals cluttering up their yard. The Althing building wasn't an exception, as his spells had shown. They didn't even have anti-vermin wards up. At least not ones that worked against an animagus.

After a few minutes of racing through grass which was suddenly too high, he was at the building proper. And no audible alert had sounded. No curse had blasted him across the field. Sloppy. Not that he was complaining. If this were a private residence, he would be worrying about silent alarms and traps, but this was the Althing, not a dark wizard's home.

He scurried along the side wall, until he found the small nook from which heat had been leaking, as he had seen through his Omnioculars. As he'd thought, the rather shabby insulation, which consisted of dried moss and lichen, had been torn by an animal - a rat or mouse by the tooth marks. Perfect.

It was a little tight - he was a large rat - but Peter fit into the hole and was soon travelling through the walls of the building. According to the travel diary of a rather daft witch with an eye for unrelated and usually unimportant details, the records office was in the basement. And for a rat, it was easy to travel to the basement by burrowing a path through the moss serving as insulation.

It didn't take him long to reach the basement. Finding the right office took longer, even with his knowledge of Elder Futhark.

But what took longest was actually finding the records he wanted. Whoever ran this office or archive had never even heard of a decent filing system. It seemed the Althing wasn't necessarily being obstructive when they took weeks to answer information requests - they might be genuinely unable to find the requested information any sooner…

Well, Peter wasn't inept. Ferreting out information was half of what he did for a living, after all. He might have had to look for an hour through misfiled sheets of parchment, always afraid that a guard would appear and he'd have to hide, but he finally found the information he wanted: Cobblespun had taken a Portkey back to France.

Peter grinned. Someone had tried to be a little too clever. Too bad for Cobblespun that Peter knew France very well - quite a number of wizards with questionable ties to Death Eaters had sought refuge there. And it was also too bad for him that the other half of Peter's work consisted of tracking down fugitives.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 8th, 1996

Hermione Granger woke up to curses. Swearing, not dark spells. Who would be so…? She scoffed at herself. She was stranded on a deserted island, and there was only one other person with her.

And Potter had a mouth.

She rolled over, grabbed her wand and kicked her improvised blanket away. "What's with all the noise?" If they were in danger, he would've already woken her, wouldn't he? He wouldn't try to face an actual threat without her. At least, he'd better not have.

"I've caught breakfast. Or lunch. It was a slippery bugger, but I got it," Potter replied. He sounded as if he were outside their shelter.

"Breakfast?" She used a spell to quickly put on her shoes. There wasn't any urgency in Potter's voice, but why would he have cursed so much earlier?

"Yes. A snake."

A snake? Potter was standing in the entrance of their shelter, wand raised, and about a yard away from him, a small snake floated in the air, writhing and hissing.

"Do you know anything about butchering animals?" he asked. "I didn't want to waste the blood, or I would've killed it already."

Killing a snake? "No!" she yelled. "You can't kill it!"

"What?" He stared at her.

"Snakes might be sapient. Intelligent," she added when he continued to stare at her.

"It's an animal. A rather dumb one." He scoffed.

"It's not just an animal," she retorted. "Parselmouths can talk to snakes. And understand them."

"So?"

Wasn't it obvious? "They can talk to snakes as if they had human intelligence." Well, not the smartest human, but probably as smart as Crabbe or Goyle, based upon what she had read.

"'As if', Granger," he told her. "It's just the effect of the magic. They are as smart as conjured animals are alive."

She pressed her lips together. "That's not the same. This is more like… a werewolf!" she blurted out.

"What?" He stared at her, then at the snake, which was still futilely trying to escape the grip of Potter's Levitation Charm. "You think that's an animagus?"

What? "No," she told him. "But a werewolf is a beast for a few days per lunar cycle. You wouldn't claim that they aren't intelligent because of that, would you?"

"That's different. Werewolves lose their intelligence temporarily due to their curse. Snakes aren't intelligent and only gain an illusion of it due to magic. Questionable magic."

"'Questionable magic'? Really?" She scoffed. "I've researched Parseltongue. It's not questionable. That's just British prejudice."

"It goes back to Slytherin, who was a bigot and a dark wizard," Potter retorted.

"That doesn't mean everyone who can talk to snakes is a dark wizard. Your ancestry doesn't define you. Or I would be a dentist, not a witch!" She shook her head. Really!

"That's not the same!"

"Even if we were to assume for the purposes of this discussion that Parselmouths were dark wizards, that wouldn't change the fact that snakes are, depending on magic, sometimes sapient and sometimes not. Just like werewolves!"

"That's…" He shook his head. "They aren't the same. You might as well assume that conjured animals are sometimes alive and sometimes not."

"Conjured animals vanish when the spell ends," she pointed out.

"Transfiguration, then. Rocks transfigured into animals are still rocks and not really alive."

"Actually, they are alive for as long as the spell lasts," she objected. "They react and behave like normal animals most of the time."

"The spellcaster can control them. That's a significant difference."

"They're still alive, though," she insisted.

"Temporarily." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"All life is temporary," she retorted. "In any case, we can't kill the snake. Not when it could develop sapience at any moment, should a Parselmouth address it."

"You're serious."

"Of course I am!" She scoffed once more. Did he think she would argue with him over the fate of a snake if she weren't serious? While they were on a deserted island and would soon need every bit of food they could find?

He scowled and turned to glare at the hissing snake. "I bet it's insulting me," he muttered.

"Of course it is - you were trying to eat it!" she pointed out.

"So… like the wyvern tried to eat us?"

She blinked, then nodded. "Yes."

He shook his head, then flicked his wand, and the snake flew through the open door.

Hermione restrained herself from telling him to ensure that the snake was put down safely on the ground outside. It wasn't flying very high.

Potter sighed. "All that effort for nought."

Just how long had he hunted a mere snake? "If the snake managed to evade you for so long, that's another argument for snakes being partially sapient. Unless you want to admit that a dumb animal stymied you," she joked.

He snorted, but Hermione didn't get the impression that he found it funny. "Are there any other animals we can't eat without committing temporary cannibalism?"

Well, if it was another species, it wasn't cannibalism. Technically. But if she told him that, he might then want to eat snakes again. "I wouldn't eat a post owl," she told him.

"Of course not!" he gasped. "Who would eat an owl? That would be…" he trailed off, glaring at her.

What was his problem now?

*****​

Harry Potter frowned. Was she trying to use Hedwig against him so he wouldn't kill snakes? "You don't have a post owl," he said. "No one who had one would think of eating an owl. They're part of the family." And every family had a Post Owl. How would you keep in touch with your friends without one?

"Of course I don't have a post owl," she told him. "My parents are muggles, remember?"

As if she'd ever let him forget that. "So?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why would they get a post owl when I can use the owls at school to contact them? They don't know any wizards."

"You could use it to write to Lavender," he told her.

"Her family has a post owl. And if I need to contact her urgently, I can travel to Diagon Alley and use the Floo Network. And soon I'll be able to Apparate." Granger scoffed. "We don't need a post owl."

"You might change your opinion once you're no longer at Hogwarts."

"Of course I will get a post owl then." She grimaced as if he'd said something stupid. "But until then, I'm fine. I wouldn't burden my parents with an owl, either."

"They're not burdens! You have a cat, don't you?" The ugliest cat in the world.

"Crookshanks is a half-Kneazle!" Granger glared at him. "And he's smarter than most wizards!"

Harry knew who she meant with that comment. "Really? All I see him doing is sleeping, eating and begging for treats."

"See?" She bared her teeth at him. "He's smarter than most wizards."

"Ha ha ha." He scoffed. "Very funny."

"Why, thank you!"

Harry shook his head. "Anyway, with snake off the menu, it's coconut for breakfast again."

"Obviously." After a moment, she added: "We could make a fire and heat up the milk."

"Unless you have some powdered chocolate in your pocket, I'd rather not heat the milk," he told her.

She frowned at him in response. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Have you?" he shot back.

"No. But I know you can drink it warm."

"It's already pretty warm out here." And it would be hot soon.

"Well, we're in the tropics."

"Or in a magical enclave that magically feels like the tropics." He smiled at her.

"Or that. We still need to determine the nature of this island."

"We need to get rid of the wyvern first," he told her.

"You've said that before. Have you come up with a decent plan yet?"

He nodded. "I have." He grinned. "But it'll require one of us to be bait."

She pressed her lips together.

"I'll tell you after breakfast." Harry wondered how long Granger would hold out before she started badgering him with questions.

"We can discuss it over breakfast." She huffed and put her hands on her hips.

"I'd rather not ruin your appetite," he retorted.

"I doubt you'll manage that." She sneered. "Or are you making this plan of yours up as we're speaking?"

"I've spent most of my watch planning," he told her through clenched teeth.

"Well, tell me about your plan then!" She sniffed. "Enlighten me!"

"Have you seen Predator? The movie?" he asked.

Now she was frowning. "No, I haven't."

"Well, it's an action movie about a group of soldiers who get hunted by an alien monster in the jungle. It kills them off one by one, until the last soldier lures it into a trap."

"An action movie." She looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

He met her eyes. "With magic, we can make it work. Well, similar traps. We create a kill zone for the wyvern. Once it enters, we spring the traps and kill it. Or cripple it."

"We already tried to trap it. I doubt that it'll fall for that plan again," Granger told him. "It's not stupid."

"It's not - but it did chase us when we broke out of the cave," he pointed out.

"And it barrelled into a dense tree formation," she said. "That should make it more cautious."

"Not if it wasn't hurt by the impact. And we won't use the same traps, of course." That would be stupid.

"You aren't suggesting that we try to have sharpened logs swing at it?" Granger all but sneered at the idea.

"I thought you hadn't seen Predator."

"I've seen Return of the Jedi," she told him.

Ah. So the girl had seen a decent movie and not just BBC documentaries. "No, not quite that. We don't need to, not with magic." He grinned. "We'll need Shrinking Charms and some twine."

She blinked. Then her eyes widened. "That might work. If you're thinking the same thing I'm thinking."

*****​

"Well, what are you thinking?"

Hermione Granger pursed her lips as Potter smirked at her. This could be a ploy to make her tell her idea first, then claim he had the same plan. On the other hand, Potter would've probably gone for something a little less obvious than 'Shrinking Charms and twine' if he had expected her to blurt out her own idea in the first place. And for all his faults - and he had a lot of them - he was clever when he wasn't being an idiot. "Shrink a palm tree trunk. Bend it. Secure it with string. Plant it in a way so when it unshrinks, it'll snap forward violently, smashing whatever is nearby."

He blinked, then grinned. "Yes, only I don't think we need to plant it - we can shrink a standing palm tree!"

"That'd be difficult. Both shrinking the entire tree and keeping it firmly planted with all its roots shrunk," she pointed out. "It's easier to cut up trees to get the trunks for shrinking."

"You need to anchor them to the ground, then," he retorted. "That's difficult."

"Have you tried it?" She looked at him and frowned.

"Not for a trap!" he quickly replied.

"For a 'prank' then." She shook her head.

"Not a prank!" he protested.

"Really."

He scowled. "I don't spend all my time on pranks."

"No, that would cut into your Quidditch time," she retorted.

To her surprise, he laughed at that. "No, I just wanted to get in… over a wall, and there was a tree, so…"

"Instead of climbing it, you shrank it, then stood on top of it and dispelled the charm?" She couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice. He couldn't have been so stupid!

"I've fallen from greater heights during Quidditch practice," he said.

"The ground of the Quidditch pitch is covered with Cushion Charms.," she pointed out.

"We don't stick to the pitch during training," he told her. "When the Slytherins booked the pitch one week straight before McGonagall sorted things out, we trained everywhere - over the lake, in the forest…"

Hermione shook her head. She had known that Oliver Wood was obsessed, but she hadn't realised just how obsessed the former Gryffindor Quidditch Captain had been. Or still was - he was playing Quidditch professionally, last she had heard. Overheard.

"It was hilarious. We barely got hurt," he defended himself.

"'We'?" Just who had been stupid enough to join Potter for such a venture? Weasley maybe, but he had shown better judgement lately. Certainly, no witch Hermione knew would have done that. Potter didn't have a girlfriend, anyway.

"Me and my cousin."

"Your muggle cousin."

"Yes."

"Who isn't used to falling from great heights."

"Everyone has to start someday."

"That's not how that works," she told him, baring her teeth.

He laughed. "Dudley didn't get hurt. Just a few scrapes from the wall - he was too heavy to get launched too high up. I landed on the roof, though."

"Because you're a lightweight?"

"Yes." He blinked, then frowned. "Ha ha ha."

She giggled. "You said it."

"Bah."

She shrugged. "Anyway, I don't think it's a good idea to shrink whole standing palm trees. We'd be less flexible with the location we choose - and the wyvern may notice missing trees."

"That's a good point," he acknowledged. "So, we should make some strips of wood with the shrunken trees stuck to it, then anchor the sticks."

"That might be harder to transport," she told him.

He made a dismissive gesture. "We can always float it."

"Let's test it, first," she said. "After breakfast."

"After yet another coconut meal." He shook his head.

Hermione bit her lower lip. Was Potter already sick of coconut meat? She had expected that he'd hold out a little longer. "It'll keep us alive," she said.

"Once the wyvern is dead, we'll go fishing. In the sea."

She didn't call him an optimist, even though she doubted that their plan might kill the wyvern. It was very tough. Perhaps too tough even for tree traps with spikes. And it wasn't as if they had anything better to do. "Yes," she said. "But for now, it's coconut meat and milk for breakfast."

The face he made, coupled with a disgusted groan, made her giggle again. He reminded her of a grown-up Calvin.

She blinked. That would make herself - smart, proper and far more mature - Suzie.

She didn't like what that implied. Not at all.

"Let's eat," she muttered, heading to their 'pantry'.

*****​

Harry Potter eyed the piece of rope - the Portkey - that had brought them to the island with narrowed eyes.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Granger asked.

He glanced at her. She had her wand out and pointed at the rope. "Aren't you an expert on Portkeys?"

"No, I'm not," she spat, glaring at him. "That's why I'm asking you."

"Do I look like an expert?" He scoffed.

"I guess not. You didn't even recognise the Portkey," she told him.

"Neither did you." He bared his teeth at her.

"I didn't claim to be an expert." That was a deep scowl, he noticed.

"Neither did I!" he retorted.

She sighed. "We're going in circles. Neither of us has ever heard anything about a Portkey being dangerous after it was used."

"But we don't know whether or not it's still an active Portkey," he pointed out.

"We both touched it," she said. "At the same time. I even wrapped one end around my arm, like in the shop. And tried it with both ends."

"We did, yes." They hadn't wrestled beforehand, but if Harry had suggested that… His eyes wandered down, over her thin top and short shorts, before he could help himself. No, suggesting that they should recreate their scuffle from the shop wouldn't be a good idea. Not at all.

"So, it should be safe."

"Yes."

Neither of them made a move towards the rope, though.

"It's the best source of string we have," she said. "Unless you'd like to use plant fibres and twist them into string."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he replied, focusing on her face.

"I'm just making sure that we both agree on this course of action," she claimed. "No blaming anyone if it turns out to have been a mistake."

"If something goes wrong, odds are we won't be able to blame anyone at all," he said.

"That's very morbid," she replied with a frown.

"But realistic. Portkey accidents are nasty." He shuddered.

"I've never heard about Portkey accidents," she said.

"Dad told me about one he had to investigate. It wasn't like Splinching - people were mashed together."

"Like a transporter accident in Star Trek?" She looked a little green. "That's an American TV show."

"I know," he told her. "I've watched it." Not too many episodes - Dudley wasn't much of a fan.

"Ah."

"I'm not an ignorant pureblood like Malfoy." He scowled at her. Why did she keep treating him like one?

She pressed her lips together. "Sorry."

She had actually apologised? He tried not to show his surprise. "Anyway, let's cut it up."

"Let's cut off a small part at the end," she corrected him. "About a foot should be enough."

"I wasn't thinking of cutting a foot off in the middle!"

"No need to get snippy," she told him with a frown. "I'm just trying to help:"

"Yeah." That was her problem. Part of her problem. He pointed the wand at the rope and cast a Cutting Charm. About a foot long piece of the rope was cut. "There."

She glanced at him, then summoned the piece to her. "It's going to take a while to unravel this."

He bit down on a comment about expecting her to know an unravel charm. Or telling her about the Unravel Hex Sirius had mentioned.

Unlike Granger, who didn't seem to mind wearing very little clothing, Harry wasn't keen on having his robes fall off with all the seams gone and revealing his underwear. He watched her sit down cross-legged and start tugging at the strands of fibre making up the rope. Really, she must be doing this deliberately to unnerve him!

He blinked. Wait - she'd been wearing those clothes under her robes in Diagon Alley. Why? Had she been planning to meet someone? No, she had been with Lavender, and then she'd gone to a bookshop. No dates for her, then.

He nodded. That made sense. Of course she wouldn't have a date. Not Granger. You'd have to be a fool to try anything with her.

*****​

"Alright." He looked up. Still no sign of the wyvern. But they had heard it earlier. It wasn't dead.

"Push it a little further down into the ground," Granger told him.

"It should be enough," he said. "It's just a small tree, anyway." And tiny now that it had been shrunk.

Granger huffed but didn't push him again.

He took a piece of string and tied it around the top of the tiny trunk, then bent the trunk backward until he could fasten the string around a root sticking out of the ground. It held.

He grinned, and Granger huffed again.

"Let's move a safe distance away," she said.

"Of course." Harry knew all about safe distances when trying out something new. "And let's cast Shield Charms, too."

"Of course."

They moved about twenty yards closer to the entrance to their shelter - Harry still had to see the shrunken tree, after all, to undo the Shrinking Charm and cast their Shield Charms. "Ready?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Finite!"

The tiny trunk, barely more than a twig, was immediately replaced by a full-size tree trunk. Which shot out of the ground and spun in the air, smashing against the other trees around. A few shards sent flying by the impact hit Harry's shield and bounced off while the tree trunk still trashed on the ground.

"It didn't actually hit the target area," Granger commented. Harry could hear the 'I told you' in her voice.

"We'll get an anchor next time," he said with a frown.

"A big anchor. And it might still be better to lure the wyvern over the prepared trunks, not near them. But we'd have to build one single device so we can return both the anchor and the trunk to the actual size at the same time."

That was true. "Oh." He blinked. "We could just turn them into spikes and bury them, having them shoot out when the wyvern is above them."

"That would require to target them somehow," she retorted.

"Right." And that would be difficult. Especially with the wyvern bearing down on you. He checked the sky again. It was easier - although not actually easy, to target twigs left above ground. And the power of a trunk growing back to size wasn't quite as strong as a bent tree slamming into a wyvern from above. "This will be more difficult than planned."

Granger rolled her eyes. Typical.

*****​

Hermione Granger looked at the finished trap - the finished prototype. The third finished prototype. Then she glanced up. No sign of the monster.

"It looks good," Potter said.

"You said that before. Twice, to be exact," she told him.

"This time, it looks really good." He grinned. Obviously, the fact that it was already afternoon - with coconut meat for lunch - and they hadn't managed to build a working trap hadn't affected him. Or hadn't registered.

On the other hand, it did look more feasible. More practical too. Instead of anchoring the trunks to a log and shrinking both, this was just a log stuck on the ground, stuck to two trees. And the shrunken, bent trunk was fixed on top of the log with another Sticking Charm. It should work better.

Then again, she had thought that of the attempt with a plate in the ground as well. At least they had a nice hole made already should they ever want to build a pool to bath in.

"So, let's try it out?" Potter asked.

"Yes," she agreed. Let's get this over with. She glanced at the sky. Still clear. "You know," she said as they walked back to the shelter, "once we're back in England, we'll have to learn not to constantly check the sky." If they ever managed to get… She pressed her lips together. She couldn't think like that - she had to remain optimistic. They would return home.

"Well, 'they never look up' certainly doesn't apply to us," Potter said, chuckling. Then he frowned. "Although that would be quite annoying in a match. I have to focus on the Snitch, not on a wyvern in the sky."

"You and your Quidditch!" She shook her head. She was worried about developing agoraphobia, and he was worried about a stupid game! "There are many more important things to worry about than Quidditch."

He frowned at her. "Not for me. I'm going to become a professional Seeker after school."

"You're going…" She managed not to continue with '...waste your talents on a game?' and said: "...pro?"

"Of course! I'm the best Seeker McGonagall has seen in all her life!" he boasted.

"She told you that?" That didn't sound like Professor McGonagall at all!

"No. She said that during a visit with my parents," he replied.

She frowned. That meant… "You listened in on them?"

"I was curious," he told her. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have listened in when a teacher visited."

"Of course not!" She had been tempted, but it would've been a breach of trust. "I asked my parents afterwards what it was about." The first time - afterwards, she already knew what the visits were about. And her parents told her about them anyway. In detail and in a slightly louder voice than normal.

He snorted. "Pull the other one! I know what you do when you think no one's going to catch you!"

"There's a difference between retaliating against an aggressor hiding behind school rules and breaking the trust of my parents," she explained. That was perfectly logical.

"I'm not hiding behind anyone or anything!" he protested.

"Says the boy who set a prefect on me last year." She looked up and checked the sky. Clear.

"It's not my fault you got caught - that's the risk of the game! Besides, you always tell on me!"

"That's because if you get punished properly, I don't need to retaliate. That's how society works." If the staff and especially the prefects were better at catching Potter, Hermione wouldn't have had to take things into her own hands.

He snorted. "You're not any better than I am. You just aren't honest about it." He leaned towards her. "You like pranking me. Admit it!"

"I like seeing justice done," she replied.

"Call it what you want, but you're not an innocent witch."

"And whose fault is that?" She cocked her head at him.

He blinked, then grinned. "You mean I took your innocence?"

She gasped. That was… "Boys!" she spat. "Always thinking with your groin." He actually blushed a little, and she narrowed her eyes at him. What was he thinking of?

He scoffed at her. "As if girls are any better! I have a sister, remember? I know what kind of books you read!"

"Textbooks?" She replied, smiling as sweetly as she could manage. Was he rifling through his sister's things?

"No, robe-rippers!" He bared his teeth at her.

She felt her cheek heating up. "That's a stereotype!" She hadn't read more than a dozen of them. Last year. Just to make up her mind. And because Lavender loved them.

"Doesn't mean it's not true. Did you read them, huh?" His grin widened.

"And what if I did? Those are books, not immature comments!"

"Oh, I'm sure those books are very, very mature." He wagged his head like a child.

"Unlike you." She sniffed. "Can we focus on our trap, now?"

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. "Sure."

They walked back to the shelter's entrance - the sky was still clear - and cast their Shield Charms. If this was like the second test, then splinters could hit them even at their distance.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

Potter aimed his wand. "Finite!"

The twig stuck to the log suddenly turned into a tree trunk, ripping the string apart - and snapping forward, smashing into the ground. Hermione could almost feel the impact as clumps of earth and grass were thrown up.

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

It had worked. After two failures - three if you counted the first attempt without an anchor - they had succeeded! They could strike back at the wyvern now. She smiled widely at Potter, who smiled back at her.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred, InquisitorCOC for betareading.

*****​

Chapter 11: The Second Trap Part 2

Outskirts of Brentwood, Essex, Britain, July 8th, 1996

"Lavender? We came as soon as we heard!"

That was Parvati. Lavender Brown forced herself to smile as the witch and her twin sister entered her room. "Hi Parvati, Padma."

"So terrible!" Padma added. "Hermione kidnapped!" She picked one of Lavender's chairs to sit down on.

"Yes! And Potter, too!" Parvati added as she sat down next to Lavender on the bed.

"They're not sure if it was a kidnapping," Lavender corrected them. "It might've been an accident."

"Dad said it was a kidnapping - he spoke with an Auror!" Parvati told her. "And it happened in Knockturn Alley!" She shuddered.

"We've been in Knockturn Alley, Parvati," Lavender told her.

"And I wouldn't do it again after this!" her friend replied. "And we only ever were in the part right next to Diagon Alley."

"That's where this happened," Lavender said.

Parvati paled. "Merlin's beard! This could've been us!"

"See?" Padma shook her head. "That's why you don't walk into that alley!"

"I didn't know!"

"Gryffindors!"

Lavender cleared her throat. "It might've been an accident, as far as we know. A Portkey was left on a shelf. Could've happened in any shop that sells odd stuff."

"How do you know this?" Parvati asked.

"I was at the Potters when they heard," Lavender admitted.

More gasping. "With Ron?" Parvati asked.

"Yes." She sighed and explained before Parvati could ask: "I was with Hermione, and we met him and Potter in Diagon Alley."

Both of the twins winced. And Parvati gasped once more. "You were with Hermione the day she was kidnapped?"

"We went to Fortescue's," Lavender said. "Then Hermione and Potter left. Separately."

"They didn't hex each other?" Padma looked sceptical.

"They're not that bad," Lavender told her. At least, not any more - they knew better than to make a spectacle in public outside Hogwarts. "Anyway, I heard about Potter going missing, and went to visit Hermione, where I found out that she's missing as well, so we headed to the Potters. Ron was there."

"Ah. That's why you know what happened." Padma nodded.

"I don't know everything," Lavender corrected her. "Just what I heard when I was there."

"And are you going to visit again?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I'm going to meet Ron later."

"Oh! Can we come with you?" Parvati blurted out.

"Parvati!" her sister hissed.

"What? I'm sure they wouldn't go on a date when their best friends are missing!"

Lavender wouldn't do that, but she would like to spend time with Ron. Even if only to distract herself from worrying about what Hermione was going through. And Potter. She cleared her throat. "We're not going on a date, no. But we are trying to… forget this for a moment."

"Ah!" Parvati took her hand. "I'm so sorry! I didn't think how you'd feel about this!"

Her sister sighed. "You certainly didn't think."

"Padma! You wanted to know what happened as much as I did!" Parvati protested.

"I was merely curious. I'm not in their house."

Well, it wasn't as if Parvati was particularly close to Hermione, either. Lavender knew that she was the only reason the two got along. Sort of.

"Is it true that they fought?" Parvati asked. Padma glared at her sister but didn't say anything.

"I don't know," Lavender lied. She knew there had been a scuffle. But if she told Parvati that, her friend would spread rumours.

"And is it true that no one knows where they are?" Padma's curiosity had apparently gotten the better of her.

"We've heard that they are investigating Magical Scandinavia!" Parvati added. "Merlin's beard! If they met werewolves!"

"They'd be fine," Padma told them. "The full moon is on the 30th."

"They have to find them before that! Or they'll be bitten and cursed!" Parvati gasped once again.

"They don't know where they are. They could be anywhere," Lavender said. They had no clue at all. And they wouldn't have any clue until Mr Pettigrew tracked down whoever had sold the Portkey to the shop.

"But if they were simply lost, they would've contacted someone by now, wouldn't they?" Padma asked. "They've got their wands, Hermione is a muggleborn so she knows how to navigate the muggle world, and Potter…"

"...is the Boy Who Lived," Parvati finished.

And Hermione could almost stand up to him in a duel.

But they hadn't been able to call for help.

And Lavender didn't want to think about what that meant. "They're still alive," she said in a low voice. "Dumbledore checked."

"Ah."

"But they haven't been able to contact their families." Padma wasn't letting this go, it seemed. "Even though muggles can phone around the world."

This time, Parvati hissed at her sister. Lavender ignored both and looked at the floor.

Alive but unable to contact anyone.

She shook her head and took a deep breath. She didn't start crying until Parvati wrapped her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

Poor Hermione. What must she be going through right now!

*****​

Unknown Location, July 8th, 1996

"Yes!" Harry Potter smiled. "We did it!" After hours of trying and working, they had managed to make their trap. He reached out to Granger before he realised it but managed to turn his gesture into a fist balled in triumph. Or something like that.

"I told you we needed a better anchor."

He snorted. Granger just had to rub it in. "What matters is that now, we can prepare our trap."

"We need to find a good location," she said. "The wyvern is too smart for anything obvious."

"I doubt that it will realise our trap." If the creature knew about Shrinking Charms and was smart enough to anticipate such a trap… "We'd be dead already if it were smart enough to do that."

"We can't underestimate it," Granger insisted.

He suppressed a sigh. "Then we'll pick our trap location carefully."

"Yes. It has to be visible from the air - and located so that the wyvern will come in from a fixed direction. And it can't be just a clearing. Not after our barbed spike trap - the creature won't dive down on us."

"On me. I'll be bait," Harry told her.

She glared at him but didn't protest. Good. He had the best chances to survive this - and she had proven that she could summon him to safety.

"But we'll need the trap near our shelter," she went on. "If it fails, we need the protection of it."

"If we flee into the bunker, we'll end up trapped inside," he pointed out. "Stuck like we were in the cave."

"That's better than dead and eaten," she retorted. "And we have plans to escape."

She was right. But he didn't have to say it out loud. "Anyway - then we should have the trap along a path to our shelter. So you can summon me, and I can trigger the trap. Close to the entrance, so the wyvern will end up in a killing zone."

"You want to turn our entrance into a deadly trap?" She looked… not shocked. Surprised, though.

He grinned. "Without someone dispelling the Shrinking Charms, the worst that could happen is that a string snaps and a twig hits our shoes. It's very much safe."

"What if a wizard or witch detects us?"

"Then we have probably worse problems than our own trap," he told her. "If they find us and we don't notice, they would probably ambush us anyway."

"We'll have to keep a Human-presence-revealing spell cast," she said.

"You aren't keeping one cast all the time?" he joked.

"I forgot," she replied as if she had taken him seriously. She waved her wand. "There. No more sneaking up on us." Her eyes widened. "Which reminds me… go into the shelter!"

Why would…? Ah! "Testing?"

"Yes."

He checked the sky, then entered the shelter. "Can you detect me?"

"Jump!"

He did.

"I caught a brief glimpse of the marker," she told him when he stepped outside again. "As long as we don't jump around, we should be fine."

"Good." That was a relief. A small one, compared to their problem with the wyvern, but still a relief. "I'll see what I can do about the camouflage," he told her. It was good, but it could be better. A human wouldn't miss it if he walked up to it.

"We could thin out the trees a little. Make it more obvious, but not too obvious, for the wyvern where the best spot to swoop down and then fly at us would be," Granger said.

"At me," he corrected her again.

"I'll be in the same line of attack," she told him.

"But standing in the shelter's entrance."

"Yes," she spat.

"Careful, Granger," he said with a smile. "I might suspect that you care about me if you want to play bait instead of me."

She glared at him. "As if! I merely want to make sure that we share the load here. I won't have you claim that you saved me, and I did nothing!"

"Of course not." He managed to suppress the urge to add 'you cooked' or something equally insulting. That would only make her mad.

*****​

Hermione Granger swallowed her retort. As if she wanted Potter to get hurt or killed! All she wanted was to be treated as an equal. Not as a… mudblood who should be grateful to be allowed to bask in the presence of the rich purebloods. And she wanted to be acknowledged for her own accomplishments - without some condescending 'remarkable for a muggleborn' remark tacked on.

She scoffed and pushed the thoughts away - she had to focus on the task at hand. On their survival. "Let's start making more shrunken trunks, then. We can sort out where we place it tomorrow." Even though the trap's location had already been determined, the devil was, as usual, in the details.

They worked mostly in silence for the rest of the day, finishing two logs with five trunks stuck to them, each. They didn't catch sight of the wyvern, but they heard it roar a few times. It wasn't succumbing to infection, then.

"We need something else," Potter said as they checked their work. "The trunks will hurt it - probably break a limb or so - but they won't kill it unless we're really lucky. And we haven't been particularly lucky so far."

"I would count the fact that we're still alive after several encounters with the wyvern as being lucky," she said.

He scowled. "It wasn't just luck - and we had bad luck there as well! But we do need something else. Something to kill it."

"We can't stick spikes on the trunks - a single Dispelling Charm won't affect them," she told him. That was too bad. In theory, they could construct a spiked pole, but they would have to actually craft it, not merely use a Sticking Charm to glue it together, or the trunk would recover its natural size, but the spikes would not. Actual glue would work - but they didn't have any.

"But we can stick spikes into the ground," Potter said. "A pit trap!"

"A spiked pit trap?" Someone had played too much Dungeons and Dragons. "And what if we fall into it?"

"We weigh much less than the wyvern." She looked up. The sky - what she could see of it, at least - was still clear.

"And we know exactly how tough a cover has to be so we can walk over it but the wyvern will fall through it?" She raised her eyebrows. She had no intention to trust her life to his - and hers - construction skills.

He frowned at her. "We can move around it, then. Just use a thin cover. And barbed spikes set in the ground - we need to trap it on the ground."

That sounded… well, she still had her doubts, but it was more sensible. But… "I would have to summon you over that trap," she pointed out.

He smiled at her. "I trust you. With my life."

She almost gasped. What the…? That was a line straight out of some trashy novel. Was he mocking her? She felt her cheeks heat up from embarrassment or anger - she couldn't tell. "I'll have you sign a waiver then. Just in case I need to explain to the Ministry how you ended up falling into your own trap."

He laughed at that - even though it wasn't all that funny.

She sighed. The sun was setting already - they had to be in the tropics. And, judging by their watches, not too far from England. Unless the transport had taken longer than they had experienced. She really should've studied Portkeys even though she hadn't expected to use one in the near future. "Let's get dinner and then head to bed," she said.

"Oh!" Potter grinned at her. He even waggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes in return. Very funny. As if she'd ever think of doing that with Potter. Well, as long as she was thinking clearly and not exhausted and in shock from a near-death experience and distracted by Potter's… She clenched her teeth and forced the memory out of her mind. Potter was counting on that to mock her, she knew it.

"At least dinner is quick," Potter said as they sat down at their table. "Fast food!"

She snorted at that. Gallows humour, of a sort. "It's certainly healthier than fast food back home," she said, before biting into her slice of coconut meat. "But we do need more variety in our diet. In case we're not found before long."

"Yes, you mentioned that already." He looked around. "Though we will be found. Trust me. Dad is the Head Auror. He'll crack this case."

"Wouldn't he be barred from investigating our disappearance since he's personally involved?" she asked.

"Why?" He looked surprised. "He's the Head Auror."

"And investigating the disappearance of his son?" She tilted her head. Wasn't it obvious that this was a bad idea?

"Yes? He's the Head Auror."

Dear Lord! She closed her eyes and groaned. "No wonder the Ministry is so… whatever."

"What do you mean?"

"In Britain, your father wouldn't be allowed to investigate a case involving his family. He wouldn't be objective."

"Well, things are done differently in Wizarding Britain. You can't compare it to muggle Britain."

"I doubt that magic changes the basic nature of people. I certainly haven't been able to see any difference between wizards and muggles when it comes to their character." She smiled sweetly at him, showing her teeth, so he'd know what she meant. "And it's a fact that investigating when you're too close to a case isn't a good thing. Muggles have experience with that."

"It's also a fact that you wouldn't be able to cut out Dad from the investigation. Even if he weren't on the case, he'd just take time off and do it himself."

That wouldn't be very efficient. Not at all. "Let's hope it works out," she said.

"It will!" He nodded. Firmly.

She wanted to believe him. She didn't want to stay longer on the island. The thought of spending months here, building a home as if this were a TV show or something… she shuddered.

She'd miss the train back to Hogwarts on September 1st!

*****​

Harry Potter shook his head. Really - as if anything would keep Dad from finding him. And Granger. His parents had stood up to Voldemort for him, after all.

He glanced at Granger. The sun was setting, but it was still bright enough outside so he didn't have to cast a Wand-Lighting Charm to make out her frown. No, she wasn't frowning - she looked rather forlorn, o. Or something. Didn't she believe him?

Of course she didn't. Granger had a chip on her shoulder about, well, everything. "Hey!" She looked up. He smiled at her. "We'll kill the wyvern. And then we'll get off this island."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "With a plank held up by a Levitation Charm?"

The light was fading. He cast a Wand-Lighting Charm. "No." That wouldn't work. "We'll build a raft!"

"A raft."

"Yes, you know - you stick several tree trunks together, lay some planks above it…"

"I know what a raft is," she hissed.

Of course she did. He had known that - but she wasn't looking sad anymore, but annoyed. They were back on familiar ground. "Good. So, we build a raft and leave the island!"

"And sail across the ocean?" She snorted. "We don't know where we are. Odds are that we're somewhere in the Atlantic, off the African Coast. But we can't be sure. And if we misjudged it…"

"All we need to do is get out of the island's protections," he told her. "Then Mum and Dad will find us."

"Unless they stopped sending out Patronus Messengers," she pointed out.

"They won't. They'll keep trying." They would never give up.

"But they won't do it around the clock," she said. "How long do we need to wait? And how will they find us in the middle of the ocean? If we get caught in a current, dragged out to the sea…"

"They'll find us!" Really, couldn't she trust his family? "They'll ask Dumbledore to help them if they need to."

She pursed her lips - she didn't have an answer to that, did she? Everyone knew that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard alive!

"And what if a storm starts? Or if we encounter a sea monster?"

He snorted. "A sea monster? Really?" Granger was grasping at straws.

"We're on an island with a wyvern. A man-eating wyvern. Who's to say the sea's not the habitat of sea serpents or a wild Giant Squid?" Granger doubled down.

"Well, we can test that with a dummy raft," he said. "Or we can fly with the raft, only setting down to take a break - and switch to cast the next Charm."

She pursed her lips in that manner of hers that showed him that she really wanted to find fault with his plans but hadn't found anything. "That still leaves us with the problem that we might be dragged away, encounter a storm, or run out of food before we get rescued. And we might not be able to pass through the island's protections."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"This could be an abandoned prison island," she explained.

"Like Azkaban? We didn't see any prison on the island."

"We haven't explored the whole island," she told him. "And it might not have any structures on it - they might just have dumped prisoners on the shore."

"Like we were dumped?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes." She leaned forward. "Why would anyone create a Portkey to an empty beach on an island with a man-eating monster on it?"

He blinked and tried not to look down her shirt - it was showing a lot of cleavage from this angle. "Good question," he admitted. "But they could've simply made a mistake. Or this is the usual area to arrive, and you're supposed to Apparate to the final destination from the beach because the owners didn't want anyone appearing straight in their home or something."

"If there is anything like that on the island." She shook her head. "In any case, we can't just assume that the protections don't do anything other than hiding the island."

"The wyvern didn't seem to have any trouble leaving the island and returning," he said.

"We assume it went out on the sea to hunt," she told him. "It's not certain. And the wards could've been created to only affect humans."

He wasn't convinced. A prison island? In the tropics? With a man-eating wyvern? That sounded more like a complicated way to execute people. Although it might've served as a prison island and become abandoned. "Who would have used such an island?"

She shrugged. "Any of the former African Subsaharan Wizarding Nations? Since they were destroyed in the Great Intervention, information about them is scarce."

"We haven't covered that in History of Magic, yet."

"Of course not! That's a rather shameful chapter of Wizarding Britain." She scoffed.

"They were endangering the Statute of Secrecy," he retorted - he knew that much. "And they wouldn't stop using magic against muggles."

"Against muggle colonialists." She scoffed again. "I'm certain that it was just a convenient coincidence that the ICW 's member nations could not only loot some of the richest countries of the Wizarding World but also impress on every other nation that they shouldn't try to help their muggle counterparts."

"Wizards getting involved in muggle wars is very dangerous," he retorted. "Not only does it endanger the Statute of Secrecy, but imagine Fiendfyre set loose in cities, Dementors wiping out entire villages, werewolves rampaging..." he shook his head. There was a reason the Statute of Secrecy had been agreed upon by everyone.

"Didn't most of that happen in the last war anyway?" She cocked her head at him.

"No." He shook his head. "There were a few incidents, but not even the Death Eaters wanted to risk endangering the Statute of Secrecy."

"That's what your parents told you?"

"Yes." And their friends. He looked at her, but she didn't ask for more information.

*****​

Hermione Granger had to almost literally bite her tongue. She'd read up on the Blood War - who wouldn't, seeing that it shaped Wizarding Britain and ended only ten years before she heard of it - but the books she had found were either very dry and refrained works or exaggerated 'true stories' that would've been rejected by tabloids. Potter, though, knew people who had fought in the war - had decided the war. She really wanted to ask him more questions. About the war, About Dumbledore. About the mysterious 'order' people had hinted at in some works.

But asking the boy who served as bait about these things… No. And he might pull her leg, anyway - Potter had a habit of 'joking' to avoid questions he didn't want to answer. She was sure he wouldn't answer this. Unless it was to brag about his parents… no. That would be manipulative.

"Anyway," she said, "even if the Statute of Secrecy was threatened, this wouldn't justify destroying entire nations. They could've stopped the colonialists, instead." But that wouldn't have lined Wizarding Britain's coffers.

"That would've encouraged other wizards to use magic against muggles," Potter retorted. "You don't want that, do you?"

Of course not! She pressed her lips together. As if she would want to see wizards and witches oppress muggles with impunity. "There's a difference between using magic to defend muggles and using magic to attack muggles."

"Sorting out someone's motive is hard," he said. "Dad told me about it. They need to check for memory charms, Polyjuice Potion, the Imperius Curse…"

"Didn't the Wizengamot state that the Imperius Curse wasn't detectable?" She scoffed at the blatant lie. "Or didn't they want to go through the trouble of sorting out who was a victim and who was a willing participant in the Death Eater's atrocities?"

He snorted in return. "That was all politics, Uncle Sirius told me. As he said, the Ministry made a deal with Lucius Malfoy: Deliver the most dangerous and the most stupid Death Eaters, the hardcore followers, and let the rest claim they were victims of the Imperius Curse."

She gasped. "That's… a travesty of justice!" That was corruption! A crime! But… "Wasn't Malfoy a spy for Dumbledore?" She had read that in numerous books. Had they been wrong?

"Oh, yes, he was." Potter nodded. "But he was, well… As I heard the story, he wasn't a spy from the start but turned very late in the war."

She narrowed her eyes. Potter knew more about this.

He shrugged. "Anyway, they know that if they step out of line, Dumbledore will crush them."

"Someone forgot to tell that to Malfoy," she muttered.

Potter laughed. "The git probably was told to behave, but you know how stupid he is."

She rolled her eyes. "He's competing for the Darwin Award."

"The 'Darwin Award'?"

Oh. He didn't know about that? She grinned. "A muggle thing. It's not a real award, just a collection of stories about people who removed themselves from the gene pool through their own stupidity."

He blinked. "Ah. Darwin Award."

"Yes." And Malfoy certainly qualified. The idiot had almost gotten killed because he didn't listen to the teachers - or anyone else - in both Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures. "In any case, I'm convinced that the ICW could've dealt with the African Subsaharan Wizarding Nations without destroying them or encouraging the abuse of muggles."

"That's easy to say from hindsight. But as you found out, Divination isn't easy." He grinned at her.

She clenched her teeth. It wasn't her fault that she didn't have the talent for this particular discipline. Or the enthusiasm Lavender had. She scoffed.

"Besides, who's to say the African Wizarding Nations were innocent?" Potter went on. "They didn't stop the slave trade, did they?"

"History is written by the victors. I'm certain that the ICW would have used any misdeeds of the African wizards to further justify their actions," she retorted.

He frowned in return. "Probably," he admitted. "But what if they wouldn't have seen anything wrong with whatever they did? At least at the time?"

She could believe that, indeed. "It's not as if they did anything against the Barbary Coast and Ottoman raiders."

"Or do," Potter added. "There are still raids in the Mediterranean and in the Balkans. 'Pirates and bandits' according to the Ottoman Empire."

She had heard about that - it was the reason she hadn't spent too much time in the magical parts of the Côte d'Azur when she had been on vacation in France with her parents. "That doesn't make what was done to Africa any better," she said. "We might be on an island that was depopulated during the Great Intervention."

He blinked. "Bloody hell, that could… No. If the island had been conquered, the wards would've been taken down."

"Unless they were restored afterwards." She cocked her head. "Some wizards might not have been content with looting the treasures of the land and might have wanted to loot an entire island for themselves."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again and nodded.

*****​

Harry Potter had to admit that Granger had a point. If they were off the west coast of Africa - and the timing of the sunrise and sunset seemed to indicate that - then this could've been a magical island that had been taken over by some wizards during the Great Intervention. Sirius had told him some stories he had heard from his family about. Unlike other families, the Blacks hadn't made their fortune looting Magical Africa, but only because they had been rich before. They hadn't taken an entire island, though. Still, Granger's theory wasn't perfect.

"If the island was taken over, why was it abandoned afterwards?"

"We don't know if it is abandoned," Granger replied. "We've only explored a part of it. A small part."

"The wyvern must have explored the entire island," he pointed out. "And who would want such a creature on their island?"

"They might have built this as a sanctuary for wyverns."

"For a single one?" He shook his head. "I've been to the dragon sanctuary in Romania; dozens of wizards from all over Europe are working there to keep the dragons fed and healthy. If a dragon had been wounded like the wyvern, Healers would've been all over it." Charlie had told stories aplenty about what happened when dragons fought each other.

"That's one way to run a sanctuary, but not the only one. If there's only one wyvern, there won't be any fights with another such creature," Granger retorted.

"But they still would have someone monitoring its health. And checking up on accidental visitors," he told her. Charlie had told stories about such incidents as well. Usually, they blamed bears if muggles were involved.

"Or they just wanted to let the wyvern live free, without anyone interfering. You know, like a muggle national park." She sniffed.

"I'm pretty sure national parks have people looking after them," he said.

"Not all of them. And even if they do, they rarely have the entire park under permanent observation."

"But if they had a park for a wyvern, wouldn't they keep it under observation?" Harry grinned at her frown.

"Unless they set it up and then died without telling anyone else." She smiled, showing her teeth at him.

"You would have needed a lot more than a single wizard to do this," he said. "And all of them dying without telling anyone?"

"Voldemort wiped out entire families, didn't he?"

It was his turn to scowl. "He rarely went after the old pureblood families," he said.

"Rarely, but he did come after some of them," she said, looking at him.

"We're not one of those families who would have a private island hidden somewhere," he retorted. "If we had a private island, we'd go on vacation there!"

She snorted. "Be careful what you wish for." She gestured at their surroundings. "Rustic bungalow. And guaranteed sightings of the local wildlife."

He snorted in return. "If this were a vacation, I'd expect better service. And better entertainment. And better lodgings."

"Well, we can improve the lodgings. The service, though…" She shook her head with a smile.

He wasn't sure if she was trying to insult or tease him. Or just trying to make a joke. He chuckled, to play it safe. "In any case, we can safely assume that if the island isn't abandoned, it's not under observation."

"Perhaps. Or someone is observing us but doesn't feel like intervening."

"That sounds like the plot of a b-movie. I think Dudley told me about something like that." Harry shook his head.

"Reality is often stranger than fiction," she retorted.

Of course she'd say that - she had been raised as a muggle. But Wizarding Britain wasn't strange. Just different.

But Harry didn't want to start another discussion. Talking about the Great Intervention had been bad enough. He knew it hadn't been the heroic defence of the Statute of Secrecy some claimed it had been - Sirius's stories had been enlightening in that regard - but it hadn't been entirely unjustified either. You didn't threaten the Statute of Secrecy. You just didn't. Wizarding Wars were terrible even if you won - Harry knew that very well. Wizarding wars mixed with muggle wars?

No one sane wanted anything like that.

He stood up. "Well, time to head to bed. We've got a long day tomorrow."

She nodded and stood up as well. A flick of her wand cleaned the plates and deposited them on the makeshift shelves on the wall. He chuckled. "It's like putting away the silverware back home."

Granger didn't laugh - she stared at him as if he had cast a hex at her.

*****​

'Like putting away the silverware back home'? Hermione Granger suppressed a shudder. This wasn't supposed to feel like home. Not at all. Not even like camping. They were stranded; they weren't here on vacation, much less settling. Not to mention settling with Potter… She suppressed another shudder. And something else she really didn't want to think about. Certainly not right when she was about to go to bed. Hormones. Just hormones. Like she told Lavender when her friend had confided in her that she had a crush on Weasley.

Ugh. That was a bad comparison. Hermione didn't have a crush on anyone, least of all on Potter. He was just somewhat attractive if one didn't consider his personality.

"Is something wrong?" Potter interrupted her thoughts.

"No. I was just thinking of a stupid movie," she replied before she could stop herself.

"What movie?"

"Swiss Family Robinson."

He looked puzzled. "I never heard of that movie."

"It's like Robinson Crusoe, but with a family. And more Disney."

"Oh." He snorted. "Not really applicable, then."

"Not at all," she agreed. Not at all.

She stretched. "So… who's taking the first watch?"

"It's my turn again," he told her after a moment. Had he had to consider it?

It didn't matter - she didn't want to argue. "Alright. I'm going to sleep then." She nodded. "Good night."

"Good night."

But she took a longer time than usual to finally fall asleep.

*****​

"Oh, Hermione. I'm so sorry, I didn't notice that you were using the bath!" Potter, wearing only a towel that left his abs and pecs bare, and barely covered his thigh and calves, stood there, in the entrance, looking guilty.

"That's OK," she told him, one hand across her chest. "Anyone could make that mistake." She shifted a little in the bathtub formed out of an enlarged coconut as she looked him over.

He nodded, staring at her legs which were propped up on the tub's rim. "I'm sorry."

He hadn't moved, she noticed. And he was still staring at her.

She licked her lips. "Well, if you want to make it up to me, then please hand me the towel," she told him with a smile.

His eyes widened, then he smiled at her. "Of course! Anything for you!" He entered the bath and grabbed the fluffy towel she had created from coconut fibres with a remarkably clever transfiguration.

"Anything?" She raised her eyebrows as he stepped closer, then stood, pulling on the rope that led to the water tank above the bath and let the fresh water wash away the soap - made from coconut butter - before she reached out for the towel.

He hadn't looked away, she noticed with a sly smile.

"Anything," he told her, his voice husky, as his eyes burned into hers.

She felt her cheeks flush as she climbed out of the bath, taking a deep breath as she stepped into the towel. And into his arms. And felt...

"Wake up, Granger, it's your turn!"

Hermione Granger gasped. What the…? Potter had stepped into the bathroom? And she had welcomed him as if she were…

She blinked. No! Potter was standing there, but he was yawning, not… She shook her head and checked the time. He hadn't let her sleep longer than planned. Good.

"Alright," she told him, then summoned her shorts and shoes to dress.

He hadn't turned away, she realised. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Good night."

"That's my line," she told him.

He chuckled, nodded and went into his bedroom - if you could call the area behind the divider a bedroom. Technically, it was. Probably.

She watched him go as she quickly dressed. He wasn't wearing a towel, but his normal clothes. And he wasn't acting like some handsome wizard straight out of a silly novel. And Hermione wasn't acting like some silly witch pining for a handsome wizard, either.

Her teenage hormones were really acting up to have such stupid dreams, she knew. The stress from having to survive on an island shared with a man-eating wyvern didn't help, of course. Quite the contrary. And not having a decent book - any book at all - to read. Normally, she'd never have such silly dreams. Certainly not involving Potter of all wizards!

She moved to the entrance of the shelter. Really, having erotic dreams about Potter? If she told Lavender that, her friend would never let her forget this!

Besides, it was obvious that this was a stupid fantasy - Potter would never act like that. He wasn't suave like that. Although he certainly was arrogant enough for the part.

She closed her eyes. She was thinking of her stupid dream again. And she couldn't - she was on watch now. She had to focus on that. Not on some steamy fantasy that belonged in romance novels. Cheap romance novels where the hero was perfect.

Besides, she didn't fit the heroines of those novels. She didn't need a wizard to protect her - she could do that herself! Better than most!

And, she added with a sigh as she redid her ponytail with her wand, she wasn't the most beautiful witch, either. She was fit and had a good figure, and her face was certainly not ugly - but she didn't turn the boys' heads. Unlike others. Such as the Patil twins and Lavender.

She suppressed the sudden bout of jealousy she felt. Looks weren't everything. Otherwise, Potter would have to fight off witches all day.

She blinked, then groaned. That stupid dream was affecting her, still.

This was really messed up.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred, InquisitorCOC for betareading.

*****​

Chapter 12: The Second Trap Part 3

Ministry of Magic, London, July 9th, 1996

Cornelius Fudge hated coming in to work early. He also hated working late, but if given a choice, he'd rather work late than come in early. He liked sleeping in, and working late was also a good excuse if he didn't feel like going home early. And if he never worked late, it wouldn't be a good excuse.

But with the current crisis, he had to go to work early and work late. And it was all the fault of… well, that remained to be determined. But it wasn't his fault. He hadn't been kidnapped by some forgotten Portkey. Nor had he started an investigation that was ruffling all sorts of feathers in the Wizengamot. And also in the ICW.

But he was the one who had to deal with all the problems this caused. The Scandinavians were stalling, France was protesting about an investigation involving the Scandinavians based upon a report from France, the press was speculating about the houngans kidnapping magical children as they used to, before Albus shut them down after the Grindelwald War… What had he done to deserve this?

"Mr Travers is here, sir," his secretary told him.

"Thank you, Hilda. Please send him in." Cornelius dropped his smile as soon as the witch turned around. It was never a good sign when Trevor Travers - TT for those who went to school with him, such as Cornelius himself - wanted to meet early. Even back at Hogwarts, the man had barely made it to breakfast in the mornings. But he was a respected member of the Wizengamot; had been so ever since the demise or incarceration of the entire main branch of the Travers family following the Dark Lord's defeat.

Cornelius shuddered. He didn't want to remember those times. The fear every time he went out, never knowing what he might find. The horrors he had seen...

"Cornelius!" TT greeted him with a wide and fake smile.

"TT! Have a seat!" Cornelius matched it with one of his own. "Good morning. What brings you to me so early in the day?" Best to get it over with. He had a lot of paperwork waiting for him.

"Straight to the point? That's what I like about you!" TT lied. "So… it's about an investigation."

Cornelius suppressed a groan. Of course it was! TT knew that Amelia was responsible for the DMLE. The fact that the wizard was here meant one of two things: He had already bothered Amelia, and she had sent him packing, or he didn't think she would honour his request.

Cornelius knew that that was very likely. Amelia wasn't the sort of witch to bend the rules - not even for the Wizengamot. Or especially not for the Wizengamot. Her rigid adherence to the law made her a pain in the butt to work with sometimes - a lot of times, actually, given that politics required a lot of flexibility - but it also meant that Amelia would never have a majority in the Wizengamot, should she try to become Minister for Magic. The Wizengamot members knew her too well to ever make such a mistake. Imagining Amelia as Minister… They would lose half the Ministry in half a year. "An investigation by the DMLE?" He asked.

"Yes." TT nodded. "I've heard that they are investigating Alfons Weatherby. A shop owner in Knockturn Alley." TT sneered. "A fence, as I was given to understand. As you know, my manor was burgled fifteen years ago, and a number of family heirlooms were stolen."

"Yes." It hadn't been TT's manor at the time, but it would be impolite to point that out.

"That's why I need an exact list of everything the man bought and sold from questionable sources since then."

Ah. "Have you asked the DMLE about it? They are the ones carrying out the investigation." If TT went to bother Amelia, he'd be out of Cornelius's hair for the morning, at least.

"Amelia told me that she couldn't say anything about an ongoing investigation."

"Ah."

"So, since you're her superior…" TT smiled. "This is really important. Not just for my family, but for others."

Ah, so that was TT's game: He wanted to know what else might've been stolen and, most importantly, from whom. He was in the clear - he hadn't owned the manor at the time, so any questionable objects that might reappear wouldn't incriminate him. But some of his colleagues were in a different position.

Great. If he helped out TT - he could finagle such a list for himself by exercising his oversight powers - then a number of other Wizengamot members would pester him about it. At least Lucius wouldn't be affected; he had been pardoned by Cornelius's predecessor.

And if he didn't help TT, he'd lose the man's support. Which would mean a few bills he was counting on wouldn't pass.

Great. He beamed at TT. "I'll see what I can do, but I can make no promises - you know this involves James's family."

"So I've heard. Terrible what happened to his son."

"Yes." Cornelius nodded. "Albus is involved as well."

"Oh."

"Yes. And the international implications…" Cornelius titled his head and sighed. "It's a mess." Which was the truth, actually. Some countries saw this as an opportunity to settle old scores. Or at least make it known that they were still holding grudges.

"Well, do your best, please."

"Of course," Cornelius lied.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 9th, 1996

"Oh, Harry… That was such a great game! Despite the Slytherins using fouls and cheating to take out everyone on the team but you, you still beat them! I thought my heart stopped when you went into the Wronski Feint, only it wasn't a Wronski Feint - you caught the Snitch just before they scored. A second later, and they would've tied!" She batted her eyes at him and ran a hand over her chest, emphasising the tight fit of her robes. "Another second later, and the Bludgers would've caught you! I screamed when they stopped inches from your face!"

He smiled confidently at her. "Oh, I just did what a good Seeker would do - I caught the Snitch or died trying."

"You're too modest! You're the best Seeker in all of England! You'll get us the cup as soon as you're going pro!"

"I'll do my best," he told her, raising his chin a little. "Don't worry, we'll win the cup." Just as Gryffindor had won the cup for four years straight - ever since he joined the team.

"But I need to take a shower now - beating the entire Slytherin team single-handedly tends to make you work up a sweat."

"Oh, of course! But will you come back?"

"I will." He beamed at her. "After visiting my friends in the Infirmary, of course."

"Of course."

He smiled at his admirer - a seventh year girl - and entered the locker room. None of the others was there - they were all in the infirmary - so he had the place and the showers to himself. No stealing glances at the Chasers, either, alas. But with the beauty waiting outside…

He grinned as he stripped and entered the showers. After turning them on, he stored his wand in his water-proof enchanted holster. You couldn't be too cautious. Not with Slytherins trying everything to stop him from beating them.

The hot water on his head and neck felt very nice. He had sweated like a pig as he played the best game ever. One Seeker against an entire team. He closed his eyes and craned his neck, letting the water hit his face. Yes, he deserved this.

Then he felt something touch his back and froze. How the…? Then arms wrapped around his chest from behind, hands gliding over his muscles, and he heard a whisper next to his ear. "I think you deserve a reward."

Oh. He swallowed, looking down. Soft, gentle hands caressed his chest. "Yes…?" he breathed more than he spoke.

"A very special reward."

He shuddered. He could feel her against his back. Bare skin pressing against his own. That was… Merlin's Beard! He wet his lips even though water was still pouring down on him. "Yes." He swallowed, then turned around.

The girl took a step back, smiling at him. Her wild mane was wet, plastered to her head and shoulders. Her brown eyes shone, and she beamed at him, licking her lips, as she said…

"Wake up, Potter!"

What the…? Harry Potter gasped as he opened his eyes. Granger? He had such a dream with bloody Granger? What the hell was wrong with him? You didn't have erotic dreams about Granger! "No!"

"You realise that if you respond, you prove that you're awake?" Granger sounded amused as she shook her head. She turned away before he could think of a comeback and walked towards the living room of their shelter.

He glared at her back. This was her fault! If she hadn't dressed in such revealing clothes - far too short shorts that almost disappeared under her shirt - he wouldn't have… whatever.

He sighed and got up. They really needed to get off this island. If they were stuck here any longer, he'd probably forget what a real hot girl looked like.

He dressed and joined her at the table. "And you're wrong. People can talk in their sleep."

"You didn't, though," she replied with a grin. "Not then."

He drew a short breath. Had he talked in his sleep? Had Granger listened? He should've asked Uncle Remus to teach him a privacy charm. If she overheard him moaning… Or, worse, if she heard him moan her name…

"Is something wrong?"

He noticed that she was staring at him.

"Nothing," he quickly told her. "Just getting a little tired of coconut for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

"Ah." She nodded. "That was expected. But there's not much that we can do about it."

"Not until we take out the wyvern," he agreed. And they would do that. "We'll finish the trap today."

She pursed her lips but nodded. "Breakfast first, though. You might not like it, but you need the calories."

"I know," he replied, rolling his eyes.

She sniffed and turned away to fetch more coconut while he sat down at the table. He briefly wondered if he should point out that she was serving him breakfast as if she was a stay at home witch. That would rile her up.

Which would be stupid, of course. Even though it might also get her to stop lecturing him. Not even Mum lectured him like that.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Back home, Mum would have made breakfast. A full English. Tea, hot chocolate for Rose, bacon, eggs, toast, baked beans, and she'd add orange juice and an apple so it would be healthy. They would sit down, try to get the Prophet before Dad arrived, and… He sighed.

"It's all we have," Granger said with a slight frown. "Moaning about it won't change it into something else."

Oh for…! "It's not that," he said. "I just remembered how we'd have breakfast at home."

She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened. "Oh." Then she seemed to hunch a little. "We'll get off this island," she said after a few seconds had passed. "One way or another."

"Of course we will. Mum and Dad will come for us." They had to.

"Or Dumbledore," she added.

"Or Uncle Peter." He was the best agent in Britain. An international wizard of mystery, Mum had called him.

"Or a task force from the Ministry," Granger said.

He scoffed. The Ministry? He'd believe that… well, Dad might lead Aurors. That would count.

"You don't have a high opinion of the Ministry, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Your father's a high-ranking Ministry employee," she pointed out. "A shoo-in for the next Department-head."

"He's an exception," Harry told her. "As is Bones. But most of the Ministry employees are stupid."

"And you would know that?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Dad and Mum said so. Sirius agrees - and he's in the Wizengamot. And Ron's Dad says the same. Even Percy complains about his co-workers."

"That's still a very small sample. The mere fact that the Ministry is still standing and providing essential services to Wizarding Britain shows that it cannot be as useless as you claim."

"I didn't say it's useless," he protested. "But it's filled with idiots. If a few key people in every Department left, the whole thing would collapse. That almost happened during the war." Only the people hadn't left - they had been murdered.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not Dad's; he works harder than anyone else in the Auror Corps." He glared at her - he knew what she had been about to say.

"Perhaps he should hire more capable wizards and witches, then." She sniffed. "Last I heard, muggleborns are still woefully underrepresented amongst Ministry employees."

"Not every muggleborn is cut out to be an Auror," he retorted. "It takes talent, training and the will to persevere," he quoted Dad.

"That sounds like the sort of excuse the Old Boys' network likes to sprout when people ask why there are so few women in positions of power."

She really sounded like Mum when she was like this. "That doesn't make it untrue. Dad wouldn't turn down a muggleborn, but not too many sign up."

"And why would they? With the Ministry predominantly staffed with the same sort of bigot they had to deal with at Hogwarts for years?" She sniffed again.

"You mean the Slytherins?" he asked.

"They don't have a monopoly on bigotry, but yes - they don't hide the fact that they think they're superior to anyone else by virtue of their blood. Not that the other houses don't have their fair share of blood bigots."

"Far fewer of them than when Mum and Dad were at Hogwarts," he said.

"You mean they are more discreet and stick to sneering rather than cursing." She scoffed. "Voldemort's death at least made them refrain from violence. Most of them, in any case. But I'm sure that many of the bigots long for the times when they could teach 'uppity mudbloods' a lesson without getting punished for it."

He scowled. "You can't say that."

She raised her eyebrows with a smirk. "Which word? Mudblood?"

"Yes!" he hissed. "Good people don't use the word. Show some respect!"

She snorted. "I'm a muggleborn. If anyone has the right to use the word, it's one of us." She stared at him. "Isn't it funny how people don't say it anymore, yet think it all the same? There must be many Death Eaters around."

"You can't call every bigot a Death Eater."

"If the shoe fits? If Voldemort had won the war, they'd happily help him murder people like me." She scoffed again. "History taught us that."

Well, there wasn't much that he could say against that.

*****​

Hermione Granger shook her head. Potter really didn't understand the problem. Preventing people from using the slur wouldn't change anything. The bigots would just find other, probably more subtle terms to use. And keep hiring and promoting 'the right sort'. That was how things worked - in Wizarding or muggle Britain. At least Wizarding Britain wasn't nearly as sexist as her home country.

"Well, if you're finished, we should start preparing the trap. And we need to consider how to bait the wyvern too." She stood up.

"Didn't we agree that I'd do it?"

She pursed her lips. It still felt wrong to have Potter risk his life like that. Even if he was the logical choice. "I meant how to make the wyvern see you. The canopy had worked well for hiding us from its eyes so far."

"Ah." He grinned. "Thinning the canopy shouldn't be much of a problem with a few Cutting Curses, and then we can cast spells to attract its attention."

"That would permanently reduce our cover," she pointed out.

"As long as we get the wyvern, that's fine. And we couldn't stay anyway, should we fail again," he retorted.

She refrained from rolling her eyes. "What about other potential threats? Such as whoever owns or lays claim to the island?" Hadn't he thought about that?

"We don't know if there are any others on this island."

"And we won't know until we explore the entire island," she retorted. "But until then, removing our cover would be reckless."

He pressed his lips together. "Alright. Then we'll have to pull the branches back somehow and create holes in the canopy."

"And using spells to attract it might also make it more cautious," she added. "It knows that spells can hurt it."

"That didn't stop it from attacking us anyway, as soon as we were out of the cave."

That was correct. Still… "It would be better if it thought it could surprise us."

"That's true," he agreed, to her surprise. "But how long can we be ready for its attack? An hour? Two? If we use spells to draw its attention, we won't have to wait overly long."

It wasn't as if she would fall asleep, but he had a point. Again. "Alright. Let's hope the creature isn't too smart. I don't want to underestimate it again."

"Of course not - I would loathe abandoning our cosy home here." He grinned at her.

"It's a shelter, not a home," she snapped. They wouldn't stay here!

He blinked. "Well, it's better than the cave. More comfortable. We can spruce it up with a little effort, too. Once the wyvern's dead."

"We'll see about that." She wanted to get off the island, not make it her home. "Let's go and dig the pit."

He nodded.

*****​

Hermione Granger wiped the sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. Hot and humid - the island had a perfect tropical climate. She didn't even have to exert herself to sweat. And she was exerting herself. A little, at least. Digging the pit hadn't been hard at all - a few Vanishing Spells, and it was large enough to fit the wyvern. A waste of soil, but they weren't looking to become farmers.

Fabricating and placing the barbed spikes, on the other hand… that had been exhausting. But the pit was now lined with barbed metal spikes, each of them a yard long. And safely stuck to the bedrock.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Potter must be tiring as well, she thought as the boy rose out of the pit on a floating plank - he usually preferred to show off silent casting.

"Halfway done!" he said.

"And now comes the hard part," she said. "The cover."

He grinned. "That's not hard. All we need is enlarged foliage stuck together."

"And some soil and grass to cover it up," she corrected him. "We can't count on the wyvern falling for a badly disguised trap again."

"It wasn't badly disguised," he protested.

"But the wyvern knows about it - and it might be suspicious of foliage covering a large patch on the ground. It wouldn't look natural," she pointed out.

"Then we will need a few poles to support the cover," he said. "Thin so they'll break under the wyvern's weight."

"Yes." It would be a little tricky - large flying magical creatures were surprisingly light for their size.

"The opposite of our shelter!" He grinned again. "Well, I'll collect palm tree fronds. You can prepare the planks and poles."

She bit her lower lip to keep herself from snapping at his presumption to order her around. It was a sound suggestion, after all. She still nodded a little jerkily, not that he seemed to notice - he kept glancing at the sky while they talked. He'd done so the whole day.

Well, it was a good thing that he was taking the threat seriously. They really couldn't afford to underestimate the wyvern.

*****​

Harry Potter smiled. The pit trap was - finally! - ready. And he had to admit, if only to himself, that Granger's insistence on covering the trap with grass sod had worked out well. Once they had managed to get the damn stuff to stick to the foliage covering without ripping it apart. He resisted the urge to cast another cleaning charm on his face just to be sure he hadn't dirt streaks on his skin any more. "So, all that's left now is the bait."

Granger sighed and looked up. "The pièce de résistance, in other words."

He didn't recognise the term, but he could guess the meaning. And he shrugged. "Shouldn't be too hard."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll reserve the right to tell you 'I told you so' once you find out that it's not as easy as you think."

He scoffed. "Watch me!" A flick of his wand summoned the plank, a swish had it float, and he sat down on it. "I'll be done in a jiffy!"

He rose in the air before she could say anything. Hah!

He reached the lower branches forming the canopy and looked down. Hm. If he was to stay in the designated spot, then… with the angle of approach… and the line of sight.

A log floated into view - on the ground - then turned until it was standing tall. On the bait spot.

He didn't need to look at Granger to know she was smiling at him. She was such a show-off. He'd already calculated the location he needed to clear - he was a Seeker; calculating vectors was what separated the good from the great Seekers.

He guided his plank a bit further and reached out for the thinner branches. All he had to do was to drag them back and stick them to the main branch or trunk.

Which, he quickly found out, turned out to be much more difficult than he had anticipated. The branches weren't very pliable, and using magic to bend them tended to break them. So he had to push and pull, stuck to the branch for safety. Granger was across from him, on the other side of the pit, struggling even more.

He shook his head and guided his plank to her. "Let's work together."

She pursed her lips for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. It should be easier if we apply our strength together."

He smiled and grabbed the branch she had been pulling back. "Together!" The branch bent easier with both of them pulling at it, and casting a Sticking Charm on the tip was also much easier with one holding in place.

A few minutes later, they were making progress at a decent rate.

But the two of them working closely together also had a disadvantage: They were literally working close together. And their robes were still back at the shelter, serving as mattresses. Which meant that when he touched her - which happened all the time when they pulled on particularly resistant branches - he couldn't help touching her bare legs. Or arms. Or catching glimpses down her shirt when she leaned forward. He could've done without knowing how her bra looked. Or how her shorts showed off her butt when she bent over.

Which she was doing again. He quickly looked up at the sky. Checking for the wyvern. And not looking at Granger. "Sky's clear," he said.

"Good," Granger replied. "We're about halfway through, I'd say. Without flying down and checking from below."

"Let's do the other side, then."

They flew around the pit, just in case, and started on the other trees there. The sun was sinking - it was late afternoon now. "Almost done," Harry said after the next few branches.

"Good." Granger wiped some sweat from her brow, and Harry didn't stare at her sweat-soaked top that was clinging to her chest. Not much, at least.

"Anyway," he started to say, "we can…"

The wyvern's roar interrupted him.

Granger gasped. Both of them immediately started to search the sky for the creature.

"There!" Harry blurted out. "Over the top of the mountain."

"It's a hill," Granger corrected him. "It might see us from there," she added.

"If it has the same eyes as a dragon, yes," he agreed. That meant… "Go to the shelter!" he snapped.

"What?"

"We need to finish this - but if we're both caught up here…" He shook his head and stared at her.

He saw her clench her teeth for a moment, glaring at him. Then scoffed. "Alright. But don't do anything stupid."

"Me? Never!" he replied with far more confidence than he felt.

While she descended, he turned back to look at the beast. It was circling around the mountain top. He knew what it was doing - it was looking for them. He was a Seeker; he could recognise search patterns easily.

Damn. He felt his heart beating faster.

This would be tricky.

He grabbed the next branch and pulled, keeping his eyes on the wyvern in the sky. Then, he swung his leg over the bent branch to keep it in place so he could cast a Sticking Charm - but by the time he had his wand pointed at it, the branch had moved just enough so it wasn't touching the base of the branch any more.

Clenching his teeth, he squeezed his thighs together, using his free hand to pull as well. There! He quickly cast the Sticking Charm, then let his breath out as he could finally relax his legs. One branch down, about six more left to be sure. Now, where was…

He looked up and froze. He couldn't see the wyvern any more. It wasn't circling the top of the hill. Where was it?

He looked around frantically. Where was it? Had it landed? Or… He turned his head and squinted, looking southwest, close to the…

Cursing, he flicked his wand and cast a Levitation Charm on the plank stuck to the branch. He had to get down. If the wyvern was coming at him with the sun at its back…

It was. He felt his heart skip a beat as a shadow suddenly covered the sun - the wyvern had spread its wings as it bore down on him.

Harry jumped off the still stuck plank, aiming for a lower branch. He felt the air move as the wyvern's claws barely missed him, his wand moving to cast a Cushioning Charm...

He hit the branch before he could finish casting the spell and barely managed to twist to move his wand away to keep it from being broken by the impact. Instead, he hit it with his thigh and bounced off, straight down - straight towards the covered pit….

He waved his wand, despite knowing even a Cushioning Charm wouldn't save him. But he...

"Accio Potter's clothes!" someone screamed.

And Harry was pulled to the side, towards the shelter. But he was still falling, still on course to hit the centre of the pit trap.

He twisted, pointed his wand at his chest, and cast a Banishing Charm at himself. He lost his wand as he was blown away, towards the shelter, but he managed to clear the pit trap before he hit the ground and slid several yards, rolling and tumbling over sod and roots and smaller stones.

"Potter!" Granger screamed again.

"My wand! Summon my wand!" he yelled, blinking. He wasn't quite sure where up and down was, but he knew he needed his wand. "Summon it!"

A moment passed. He was on his back, on the ground, he realised. In front of the shelter. And he was hurting all over.

"Accio Potter's wand!"

And there came his wand, flying towards him. He started to smile.

Until he saw the wyvern swoop down behind it, flying straight towards him and Granger.

*****​

Hermione Granger froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. The wyvern was headed straight for her and Potter, wings flaring to stop it from crashing into the ground, then pulling in so it could swoop at them. So fast. Too fast.

The shelter entrance was behind her. If she turned and ran, she'd make it. But Potter was on the ground. Hurt. Wandless.

She stepped over him and cast a Shield Charm, then laid down on top of him, closing her eyes.

A moment later, her shield shattered under the impact of the wyvern's claws. The force of it threw her off Potter and into the sod-covered front of the shelter. She felt the air being knocked out of her lungs as she hit it and heard the wyvern roar as it flew overhead, clearing the shelter by inches before crashing into the trees behind it. Her chest hurt. Her leg hurt. But she had to move. She had her wand. Potter had lost his. They had to get to the shelter. She had to…

Potter was moving - away from her! The damned idiot was running towards the pit. No, towards his wand on the ground!

She groaned and cursed as she got up. The wyvern would be turning around for another run. They had to get in the shelter! "Potter!"

He picked up his wand, raised - cast. Shield Charm, she realised. Then he grinned at her, blood running down his face. "Summon me from the ground!"

"What?" she screamed back.

But he was already running. Towards the pit. And the wyvern was roaring - swooping down. And she understood his plan.

And wanted to curse the bloody fool for it!

*****​

Harry Potter glanced over his shoulder as he ran - as fast as his battered body could manage - towards the pit trap. The edge of the pit trap. The wyvern was tucking its wings in, drawing its head back and its chest up to bring its claws to bear.

He had to time this exactly right, or Granger wouldn't summon anything but bits of him. He glanced ahead. Ten yards left. Back. The wyvern was clearing the shelter - Granger was ducking. Six yards. If he misjudged the distance, he'd fall into the pit. Couldn't look forward. The wyvern's claws were spreading. Two yards.

He threw himself down onto the ground, sideways. He rolled towards the edge of the pit, ending on his back, staring at the claws bearing down on him. Oh my…

The claws hit his shield, sliding over it as they shattered it - and launched him forward, over the pit.

And something pulled him back. Granger. The wyvern's claws came down as the creature tried to grab him - but it missed, the claws closing around empty air inches from his chest as he was dragged back towards the shelter.

Then something hit him, clipped his shoulder, and he smashed into the ground, bouncing worse than after a failed Wronski Feint. The wyvern's tail!

He rolled, pain flaring up in his shoulder, and the tail with its stinger stabbed into the ground before his eyes, narrowly missing his head.

Then the stinger was ripped out of the ground as the wyvern crashed into the ground. Into the pit - he saw the sod covering the pit shatter as the huge creature hit it and impaled itself on the spikes below.

The monster roared, wings thrashing - it wasn't dead. It wasn't dead.

Harry coughed as he got up, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder. And his side.

The wyvern was beating its wings, trying to lift itself out of the pit. And shrieking so loud, Harry's ears rang. He could see where a spike had ripped through a wing, but he couldn't see the belly of the beast. Just its back - and the wildly thrashing stinger.

"Finite!"

Granger at his side, casting. And one of the shrunk palm tree trunks snapped back to its original size - and slammed into the beast's side.

Right. He raised his wand, aiming at the other strip of shrunken trunks. There, the little stick… "Finite!" he yelled.

Another tree trunk shot through the air, growing as it flipped over itself and landed on top of the wyvern.

"Finite!" Granger again.

He tuned her out and focused on the next trunk. "Finite!"

This time, the tree trunk slammed into the wyvern at the perfect angle, pushing it further down, onto the spikes. It roared so loud, his ears hurt. Granger stumbled next to him.

"Finite!" And another snapped back to its size perfectly, but missed the beast, sliding off its wing.

They had half a dozen of them ready on each side. He pointed his wand at the third on his side. "Finite!"

The tree trunk smashed into the creature's head. But the monster kept roaring. Its tail lashed out, the stinger cutting through the torn grass in front of him.

"Finite!" Granger's next trunk missed again - the wyvern hadn't fallen into the centre of the pit.

His turn. "Finite!"

A body blow, but a glancing one.

"Finite!" Granger's next trunk flipped over and landed on the wyvern's back. It threw its head back - was that blood flowing out of its mouth?

He pointed at the second to last trunk on his side. "Finite!"

Another hit to the wyvern's head. Still not enough to knock it out, much less kill it.

"Finite!" Granger screamed her spell. Her tree trunk seemed to appear in mid-air, flipping over - and landing on the left wing, pushing it down into another spike.

"Finite!" Harry's last trunk flipped like a catapult and cracked down on the beast's back.

They had used up their trap. And the monster was still alive. No.

But it wasn't moving as much as it had before. It still was trying to free itself, though.

"No." He realised he had spoken out loud and scoffed. "You won't get out of this!"

He pointed his wand and cast a sticking charm on the spike he could see piercing the wing.

"Oh, clever!" Granger copied him, aiming for the body of the beast.

"We need to get to the other side," he snapped. "Its head is vulnerable!"

They had to give the pit a wide berth - despite several spells, they didn't manage to stick the tail to anything - so they had to push through thick underbrush and over rougher ground. Moving hurt, but Harry did his best to ignore the pain he felt every time something touched his shoulder or he stumbled. They had to kill the wyvern now. Before it recovered. Finish this once and for all.

They reached the other side of the pit. And Harry could see the wyvern's head. Its wounded side hadn't healed, and fresh blood was dripping out of its mouth. One of its fangs had splintered, but otherwise, it wasn't hurt.

As soon as it saw them emerge from the underbrush, it tried to bite them, the head shooting towards them, but not even the long neck of the creature was enough to reach them.

He stuck it to the ground, but it ripped the topsoil and sod off when it recoiled, screeching at them. The stench of rot and pus was almost enough to make him puke. How to kill it…

He pointed his wand at the trunk that had failed to even touch the beast. "Accio trunk!"

"What are we doing?" Granger asked as the trunk landed on the ground next to them - they had to take a step back to avoid it rolling over their feet.

"Banish splinters at it until it dies," he told her.

"That didn't work before," she protested. "We need something bigger."

He looked at the trunk, then at the wyvern. And then at Granger.

She nodded at him.

He cast a few cutting curses, sharpening one end of the trunk.

"I've stuck another spike to its belly, but I don't know if it'll hold it," Granger told him as she transfigured the wood into metal.

He grunted an answer as he lined the trunk up. "Hey! You ugly monster!" he yelled. But the wyvern was ignoring him, trying to tear itself free. He wouldn't be able to hit its mouth with the wyvern shaking its head like that.

"I'll be bait. You banish the trunk."

"No!"

He ignored her protests and took a step forward. Then another. "Hey!"

"Potter, you idiot!"

He chuckled. "Hey, you ugly beast!" Another step, and he was right at the edge of the dent the beast's head had made before.

And this time, it noticed him. It froze for a moment, then roared and snapped at him. He jumped back and to the side, and something flew past him - into the maw of the beast.

Yes! He flicked his wand and stuck the spike to the maw.

The monster roared again, shaking its head, trying to dislodge the trunk. Then it bit down on it. But the trunk was solid metal.

And the attempt made the beast hold still enough for Harry to hit the spike with an Engorgement Charm.

A moment later, the spike tore through the wyvern's head, ripping an eye out. The beast's roars cut off, and its head fell down - onto another spike. More blood ran out of its torn mouth, down the spike. And it stopped moving.

And breathing.

He stared at the body. It wasn't moving. It wasn't breathing.

"The blood's still flowing," Granger mumbled, next to him. "That means the heart's still beating. Unless it's simple gravity at work…"

"It's not really squirting or something," he pointed out.

"No, it isn't. And it seems to be stopping." Granger chuckled. Once. Then again. Then she flicked her wand, and a Stinging Hex hit the wyvern's remaining eye.

It didn't even twitch.

"It's dead," Granger said.

"It's finally dead," Harry agreed.

"It's dead!" Granger started panting. "We did it!"

They had done it. Harry felt his mouth twist into a smile. They had done it - they had killed the wyvern! "We did it! We did it!"

He reached out and hugged her.

Then he kissed her.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 13: The Clean-Up

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 9th, 1996

Sirius Black jumped up when someone knocked at the door of his best friend's home. The war had been over for almost fifteen years, but old habits died hard. And with Harry kidnapped by someone who was able to hide from Dumbledore, pretty much anything was possible.

He drew his wand and cast a Human-presence-revealing Spell before stepping to the side to get a better angle at the door. Just in case.

James did the same on the other side.

Lily looked at them, then turned and approached the door - with her own wand drawn. "Yes?"

"It's me."

Peter! That was Peter's voice!

He didn't lower his wand, though. No matter how much he wanted to know what Peter had found out.

Lily opened the door and let their friend enter.

"Hi, everyone," Peter nodded at them. He didn't look wounded or cursed, Sirius noted. He quickly changed to smell him. Same scent. A little ratty, and oh so interesting traces of strange smells. Exotic ones. And food.

"Padfoot, stop slobbering over Peter," Lily snapped.

Oh, right. He changed back.

"Did you find Cobblespun?" James asked in a tight voice.

Usually, Lily would chide James for such a lack of manners, Sirius knew. But with their child missing…

"Hello, Peter," Sirius returned the greeting. "Have a seat."

"Yes, of course," Lily quickly added. "Have you eaten already?"

"Don't worry about that," Peter replied.

"That means he hasn't," Sirius said, snorting. "You're in luck - we haven't eaten dinner yet, either."

"Really…"

"Oh, please." James shook his head. "Now…?"

Peter nodded. "I've found Cobblespun's location in France."

Sirius frowned. The way Peter worded it… "But not him."

His friend grimaced. "I couldn't get him." He sighed and pulled out a map from his plain, very plain robes. "He's hiding in the Magical Quarter of Paris. In La Folie de Morgane."

James and Lily looked lost, but Sirius knew the name. "The best hotel in Paris. And the oldest." His family wouldn't have used any other hotel on the rare occasions they visited France.

"And one of the most secure," Peter added. "I could sneak in and verify his presence, but I didn't see a way to get him."

"But if he's staying there, he must have more money than expected," James said, frowning. "Or someone's protecting him. Perhaps someone he sold stolen loot to."

"They would be killing him instead," Sirius pointed out.

"He might've taken precautions," Peter told them. "A dead man's switch, maybe."

"From what we know of him, he doesn't strike me as a particularly clever criminal," James said.

"But not a particularly dumb one, either," Peter retorted. "He's slippery."

"Can we send the French after him?" Lily asked.

James scoffed. "The bastards won't lift a finger for us. Not after Dumbledore's latest disagreement with the Duc over their treatment of muggleborns."

Sirius nodded. In hindsight, that had been unfortunate timing. Not that the bastard didn't deserve it - his 'concerns about the loyalty of muggleborns' were just a pretext to keep the French purebloods in power. Though, to be fair, the French muggleborns were pretty rowdy, so to speak - they didn't like living in an absolute monarchy.

"Anyway, I need some help to extract Cobblespun," Peter said.

"We'll help!" James said. "Let's go!" he blinked. "I mean, let's go after dinner!"

Sirius raised his finger. "I don't think the Head Auror should go and kidnap someone in France. They might blame our Ministry for it - if they find out."

James bared his teeth at him. "I don't care."

And Lily didn't look like she cared, either. Great. Sirius sighed. "But you should."

"If they won't help us, then I don't care what they think!" James scoffed.

"But they could rile up more countries against us," Sirius pointed out.

"And the more trouble they make for Britain, the busier Dumbledore will be," Peter added.

That, at last, made James hesitate.

Sirius quickly told him: "And Malfoy and his ilk will try to use this against you. Try to force you to resign. Right when Harry needs you in the Ministry."

James glared at him, but Lily placed a hand on his shoulder. "James… we'll go. We're not working for the Ministry."

"Everyone knows Peter works for Dumbledore."

Peter grinned. "But in a private capacity."

"So, I'll have to stay back while everyone else goes to France?" James clenched his teeth.

"Not everyone. Remus would cause a scandal as well," Sirius said. France's stance on werewolves was… well, drastic.

"The Scandinavians would like it, though," Peter snorted.

"And you? You're a member of the Wizengamot!" James told Sirius.

"Which isn't a part of the Ministry," Sirius countered. "And as a Black, my name carries some weight."

"Everyone knows where you stand with regards to muggleborns," Lily pointed out.

"Oh, yes, they do," Sirius agreed. "But I'm still a Black." His family had a reputation, after all. A well-deserved one, which meant it would be harder to pin whatever he did on the Ministry.

Not that Sirius was planning to get caught, anyway.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 9th, 1996

They had killed the wyvern! A huge, dragon-like creature, and they had managed to kill it. They were finally safe! They didn't have to hide in a bunker any more, afraid to go out! No more looking at the sky in fear, either! Their hard work had finally paid off! Together, they had done it! Yes!

Hermione Granger tilted her head a little, shifting her stance and moving one hand up to grip his hair as she kissed back. This was like in the books, only better. She was...

She blinked. She was kissing Potter!

Gasping, she pulled back and stared at him. What the…? She felt her cheeks heat up - she was blushing.

He blinked, then his eyes widened, and he gaped at her. "Merlin's balls! I… we..." He trailed off, obviously at a loss for words, shaking his head with his mouth open.

Why was he shocked? He had started this! Or was he… And they were still holding each other, she realised. Stiffening, she took a step back, releasing him, and took a deep breath. "We kissed. In the heat of the moment." She nodded at her own, clipped words. "After days of stress and near-death experiences, such a reaction is quite normal. It doesn't mean anything." It better not mean anything.

He nodded in return, taking a shaking breath. "Right. Just the heat of the moment."

"Right." She nodded sharply and suppressed the sudden feeling of anger and... whatever. This was just some emotional outbreak due to stress and relief. He was Potter, for Heaven's sake! She pressed her lips together before clearing her throat. "So… we need to deal with the corpse," she explained. "It'll attract scavengers and, once it starts decaying, a huge amount of insects. And it will present a sanitary risk in short order." Focusing on the next task would help get over this… lapse in judgement.

"Well, it was a sanitary risk before," he replied, pointing at the stinger, which had stopped twitching but was leaking a clear liquid.

The muscles controlling the venom gland must have relaxed in death, releasing the venom. "If we had a secure container, we could catch some of it, but since we don't, we probably should just vanish the venom."

"Right." He nodded and pointed his wand at the patch of grass under the tip of the stinger. "Evanesco."

The grass and part of the soil vanished. Not the stinger, though. Of course, that was part of the carcass - which was far too big to be vanished.

"Oh. We should cut the stinger off - it'll make a good trophy!" Potter said.

"A trophy?"

He grinned at her. "Of course! Otherwise, who would believe that we've killed a wyvern?"

He was worried about bragging? She shook her head. "We could've found the stinger."

He narrowed his eyes as if he was thinking about this. "Do you know any spells to preserve meat?"

"No. Nor any spells to cure leather." And she wasn't about to try and cure the wyvern's leather the muggle way. No, thank you. Even though it would be a lot of leather, and the things they could do… No.

"Damn. But we'll keep the skull, too. And the claws. Probably the bones as well," Potter went on.

"You want to strip the skin and flesh off the bones?" She raised her eyebrows. The creature was huge.

"Uh…" He grimaced. "Well, we can cut the head and claws off, and then…" He blinked. "Are you sure there isn't a way to find out if wyvern meat is edible?"

"None that we have access to, except for trying it and hoping to not die from it," she told him. "We could attempt to eat small pieces, but with magical creatures, even that could prove fatal. And I would rather save my bezoar for an actual emergency."

"So, no wyvern steaks, then." He nodded. "So, let's cut off the head and stinger, then start vanishing the spikes and… bury the thing in the pit or cut it into pieces and vanish them?"

"We'd need more earth to cover the carcass, so vanishing it would be easier," she pointed out. Marginally easier - they would have to cast a lot of Cutting Curses to dismember the body.

"You're right. Too bad about all the leather… we could have used it as a sail for a raft."

"You're already planning to build a raft?"

He shrugged with a wide grin. "I'm thinking ahead."

"Skipping ahead is more likely," she corrected him. "We have to deal with the corpse here, first, and then we should explore the island before we try building a raft."

"Do you honestly expect people to live on the same island as a man-eating wyvern?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

She frowned in return. "No. But there could be the remains of a settlement." She pointed her wand at the wyvern's body. "Let's start. After treating your wounds." The way he moved, they couldn't really be serious, but they had to make sure.

"Right."

He didn't look happy, she noticed. Well, this would be dirty and exhausting work. At least he didn't insist that he was fine.

*****​

Harry Potter sighed and shook his head. The sun was setting soon, and they were still dealing with the wyvern's corpse. Half of it was gone, at least. Gone to where things went when vanished. But half of it was still there. And it smelt. Would have, at least, if he hadn't cast a Bubble-Head Charm. "I didn't think it would be this bad," he said.

"What? The offal that is dripping out of the pierced intestines? Or the swarms of flies covering it? Or the ichor in its face?"

"Everything," he told her. And his shoulder still hurt a little, but he wouldn't whine about that.

"You've never visited a slaughterhouse, have you?" Granger asked him, using her wand to restore her ponytail.

"Have you?"

"Yes." She pursed her lips. "We were on a school trip."

"You went to a slaughterhouse? On a school trip?" He gaped at her. Before Hogwarts - she must have been… well, little.

"My teacher wanted to show us where meat came from." She shrugged. "It was very educational, but not all parents shared that view. There was quite a scandal of sorts."

He could very well imagine little Granger standing next to a butcher and pestering them with question after question. "Well, I doubt that there were as many flies as we've got here." The slaughterhouse would've been shut down by the police otherwise. At least he hoped so - he wouldn't be able to eat in any muggle restaurant any more, otherwise.

"No, there weren't as many flies," she confirmed before vanishing a cut part of the beast's stomach. "Though are you certain that you want a trophy?"

"Yes!" It would impress everyone. He vanished the remains of the left wing.

"Then leave me out of it," she told him.

"What?" That made no sense. Granger was a glory hound, always seeking praise from the teachers. And Flitwick would be so impressed by their plans! Why wouldn't Granger want some recognition?

"Luna and Professor Hagrid won't be happy. We've talked about this, remember?"

He winced. Yes, they had talked about it. Damn. Yes, Luna and Hagrid would be devastated. They might accept that they didn't have any choice but to kill the wyvern, but to take a trophy… He could imagine them looking at him with that hurt expression, Luna sniffling and acting as if he had just killed a kitten, and Hagrid would be outright crying.

Harry clenched his teeth and frowned at her.

She shrugged. "I assume that you'll have to be content with being the youngest Seeker in a century as your most important claim to fame."

He scoffed. "We'll tell our parents the truth, at least." That would impress them.

"Of course. And the Ministry. I assume that the authorities will be most interested in an abandoned magical isle." She nodded, then vanished the next part of the wyvern's guts.

"I doubt that the Ministry will take possession of it. Not unless Dumbledore intervenes personally," he told her.

"Or the Minister figures out a way to sell the island and pocket the profit."

He laughed at that. "Hidden island, slightly used."

She chuckled in return and bent to levitate more of the intestines out of the corpse.

He followed her example. They had to use as much daylight as they could - working with just one Wand-Lighting Charm would be a pain in the butt. And Harry really didn't want to sleep next to the island's biggest carrion buffet. Sure, the odds of another big predator being around weren't good - but a swarm of smaller creatures might be even more dangerous if they surprised them.

He cast a series of Cutting Curses at the main body of the beast, aiming for the spots where the skin had been torn by spikes. That would allow them to vanish the different pieces. Once they were small enough.

*****​

"I really want a shower," Granger complained as they finally entered their shelter.

"You cast a dozen cleaning charms," Harry pointed out.

"It's psychological. I don't really feel clean," she told him.

"Ah." He nodded.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't tell me that you feel clean already."

He didn't, actually - there was a reason Quidditch lockers had showers, after all. Even though any decent player would be able to cast cleaning charm in their sleep, what with all the robes in need of cleaning. But he wasn't going to complain like she was doing. He could fantasise in private about… He remembered his dream. The one in the Quidditch locker room. With Granger.

And she was running her fingers through her hair as if she was in a bathroom. Bloody hell!

He clenched his teeth. This was just hormones. And stress. And the heat. And the exhaustion.

And Granger's fault for showing off her legs.

"Dinner?" he asked.

She blinked. "Right." Nodding, she added: "We can build a shower tomorrow. It shouldn't be hard to create a tank to hold water. Although creating a seal for the showerhead… maybe a bathtub would be better. We can easily fill it with water, though it would be cold, I think. Relatively."

That might be pretty refreshing in this heat. On the other hand, bathing in cold water wouldn't be very comfortable. He chuckled - the thought of Granger sitting in a bathtub full of cold water… And now he wished he had a bathtub full of cold water. Or at least a cold shower. Damn.

Granger hadn't noticed, at least. "I guess we could use the sun to warm the water up, but that would increase the risk of detection."

"Transfigure it to metal and use a fire," he suggested.

"That would work, I guess. A little primitive, and not good for indoors, but we will be able to have hot baths." Granger seemed oddly happy about that.

"Both mixed bathing, I hope," he commented.

She blushed a little. "I'm talking about a bathtub, not a swimming pool."

"Yes?" He didn't know why he said this. Or why he grinned.

She stared at him with her mouth half-open for a moment. "Ha ha ha," she said with a scowl.

He was almost relieved at the familiar expression on her face. Even though it looked sort of hot, too, her lips pursed like that - they were soft, too, he remembered...

Damn.

*****​

What was wrong with Potter? Hermione Granger couldn't understand the boy. They had finally, and at great risk, killed the wyvern. As much as she disliked admitting it, Potter had shown great courage and skill during the fight. He'd been almost noble - a far cry from his usual, puerile behaviour.

And now he was making off-colour jokes about 'mixed bathing'. Really! It was perfectly natural that she wanted a bath or at least a shower! Cleaning charms just weren't enough to feel clean. That was no reason to make fun of her.

"Let's eat dinner," she said.

"Yes. I think we'll have coconut today?" He grinned.

She snorted. He could be funny. Sometimes, at least. Hell, if he weren't such an entitled arse most of the time, he'd be quite nice. And he wasn't bad looking…

She pressed her lips together and focused on carving up and enlarging their dinner. She wasn't going to dwell on this. Or on her lapse after killing the wyvern.

"Here," she said, levitating the coconut slices to the table.

"Thank you."

She nodded as she sat down. "You're welcome."

Coconut did get old after a few days of eating it exclusively. She still ate until she didn't feel hungry any more. "We need to make plans," she said, sipping coconut milk.

"Plans?"

"To explore the island," she explained, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. If Potter could be civil, then so could she.

"We pick a direction, clockwise or counter-clockwise, and start walking?" He shrugged. "Though we need a way to find our way back to this place, I guess."

"Yes." She nodded. They were in the middle of the jungle - finding this place again wouldn't be easy, it wasn't as if they were too close to the beach. "We could leave a marker in the trees above, but…"

"...others could spot it as well."

"Yes. Though that is the case with any marker or sign," she said. They could create another shelter, of course. But she didn't want to go through everything again. Though if they had to search for days for this place, then that would waste even more time...

"That's true." He leaned forward. "So, what do you have in mind?"

She blinked, surprised. "How did you know that?"

"The way you're outlining the problem. Like Flitwick." He grinned again.

She narrowed her eyes. This comparison might sound flattering at first glance, but Potter had teased her about lecturing others too often to take him at face value. On the other hand, they needed to plan. "Yes. We'll make a compass."

"A compass?" He blinked.

"Do you know the Four-Point Spell?" She tilted her head. "It always points the caster north. We can use that and a carefully cut piece of wood to make a compass. That way, we can navigate the island without leaving markers." In theory. She remembered reading a book about scouts, back when her parents had tried to get her to go outside more often instead of reading books.

"Ah."

"So, do you know it?"

"No." He shrugged. "Never saw a reason to learn it."

"I'll teach you, then," she said. If they were ever separated, he'd need it to find his way back so they could meet up again.

"Why did you learn it?" he asked.

Because she had hoped that she could modify it into pointing at specific people and things, once she knew enough Arithmancy. Of course she hadn't known that that wouldn't work. "It seemed to be an interesting spell," she half-lied.

"Ah."

"And a useful spell in case you end up lost in the wilderness," she added. "Like now."

"Apparition would've been more useful," he replied.

"Unless the island is covered by Anti-Apparition Jinxes."

He shook his head. "It's too large for that. And we don't know if it's an island."

He was right. In theory. "I think we would've seen at least a glimpse of the rest of the coast if it were a peninsula. It would have to be a very particular and very narrow peninsula."

"Right." He grinned. "Just pointing out that we don't know if we're on an island. You know, since you didn't."

She rolled her eyes. That wasn't nearly as funny as Potter thought it was. Not at all, actually. "Yes. Now, let's teach you the spell."

"Right now?"

"So we have the whole day tomorrow for our exploration," she explained with a grin. "Provided you can learn the spell quickly enough."

He frowned in return but then matched her grin. "If I don't, then it'll be the fault of the teacher."

She glared at him, but he only smiled at her. Great.

She sighed, then raised her wand. "Now, watch my movements…"

*****​

"Point Me!" Harry Potter all but yelled the incantation. Sure, everyone said that saying it louder didn't help, but he felt better yelling it.

And he - finally! - also felt the tug on his wand as it was pulled towards a certain direction.

"Hah!" He smiled widely.

"About time," Granger commented.

He rolled his eyes. "How long did it take you to learn the spell?"

"An hour. Without a teacher," she told him, smiling widely.

He frowned. He had taken two hours. "That must have made the difference," he said.

She gaped at him for a moment, then pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Typical!" she muttered.

"I was joking," he defended himself, though he didn't know why.

"Right."

He swallowed his retort. He had been joking, after all. It wasn't his fault that Granger didn't believe him. Well, it was his fault, but only a little - Granger shouldn't take everything so seriously. "Thanks."

She narrowed her eyes, then nodded. "My pleasure." Very polite and with as much warmth as a glacier.

Somehow, that felt worse than a heated insult. "I'm sorry," he added.

She frowned again, then nodded, more slowly. "We've been - we are - under a lot of stress."

He nodded as well. That was as good an excuse as anything else. "So," he said after a moment, "How are we going to do it tomorrow? Hike around the island along the beach? Fly up to the mountaintop?"

"Levitate," she corrected him. "And that would expose us to anyone observing the island."

"Not if we stick to the ground. Mostly," he retorted. "We'd have to fly under the canopy, but once we hit the slopes?" It was hard to spot a broom flying close to the ground from afar.

"Right. And we would be able to look around from the top." She nodded again. "But we'd also be close to the wyvern's lair."

"It's empty now," he pointed out.

"Yes, But if this is - was - a sanctuary, then whoever owns or controls it might have left spells on the lair to check on the creature," she told him. "If the spells don't register the wyvern coming and going regularly, they would have a reason to check."

That sounded reasonable. But… "It's just an assumption."

"But not an unreasonable one," she countered. "And we don't have to enter the lair. If we even find it."

"Right. And we'll be able to confirm if we're on an island or not." Not that Harry doubted that.

"And whether or not the island has a settlement. Or had one - we might also be able to spot ruins since a settlement would've been built at the coast."

"Yes." He checked his watch. It was getting late. No, it was late. He stifled a yawn, then caught Granger yawning. "I think we should head to bed."

"You go to bed," she told him. "I'll take the first watch. It's my turn."

"You're more tired than I am."

"I won't fall asleep," she said.

He wanted to argue - she looked like she'd fall asleep as soon as she sat down - but her expression stopped him.

Well, even if she fell asleep, they had killed the wyvern and should be safe enough for one night. And if she fell asleep and failed to wake him up, he had something to hold over her for the next argument over who got to sleep first.

"Good night."

"Good night."

*****​

Unknown Location, July 10th, 1996

She was showering. He could hear it. Could hear the water hit her before dropping on the ground. Could hear her moan softly, obviously enjoying it. And if he closed his eyes, he could imagine how she looked, standing under the falling water, running her hands over…

He shivered and opened his eyes. He was standing guard, after all. He couldn't close his eyes. And he couldn't look away, either - what if something or someone approached from behind the flimsy partition that separated the shower from his guard post?

He looked at her. Her thick mane was plastered to her head and shoulders. He could see her calves, slick with water, and her feet on the polished stones forming the floor of their shower. Everything between her shoulders and her knees was hidden by the divider.

Then she raised her arms over her head, adjusting the shower, and he looked away. This was… torture. He took a few deep breaths. She was so close, so… Damn. And Hot. It was hot. He felt hot.

He realised that the shower had stopped and blinked. She was done? Already?

He turned to ask and froze. She had stepped around the divider and was walking towards him. She didn't have a towel.

He stared. "Ah…"

She didn't say anything - she just kept walking until she stood in front of him. Then she hugged him, and their lips met, and… and…

"Wake up, Potter. It's your turn."

He woke up with a gasp.

Granger was staring at him. Then she yawned. "Wake me in the morning."

She turned and headed to her bed without further words. Had he talked in his sleep? Had she heard anything… He didn't remember saying anything in his dream, but… it was a little fuzzy.

And… well, he was still covered by his blanket. Good.

But a shower - a cold shower - would be really handy right now. He snorted. Who would have thought that thoughts of Granger would do that to him?

*****​

She moaned. A hot bath - a luxury she had gone without for far too long. She stretched her legs, shifting a little in the huge tub, then raised one out of the water so she could rub a sponge over it, sighing as the spells on it cleaned her skin and pores. A copy of her first sponge - a birthday present from Lavender, she remembered. It came with a set of refilling special shampoo. Not that her hair needed it - it was thick and lustrous with just one charm. Which was good since she didn't have her shampoo with her.

She ran her free hand through it, flicking her mane back. Perfectly styled for a bath. Or for anything.

She lowered her leg, then raised the other, running her sponge over it. It had taken a lot of effort to duplicate the sponge, but it was worth it.

And the same went for the bath, of course. But what decent home wouldn't have a bath?

"Hermione?"

Ah. "I'm in the bath!" she called out.

"There you are!"

And there he was. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with that cocky, handsome smile on his face, his bare chest still wet with sweat, his hair tousled by the wind… Dear Lord, he was sexy!

And he thought the same of her - she could feel his eyes roaming over her.

Smiling, she licked her lips. "You look like you could use a bath," she told him.

"I feel like I could use a bath," he replied, pushing off from the frame and stepping into the bathroom.

"Fortunately, I've prepared a bath already," she said.

"How thoughtful." He nodded and started stripping.

She wet her lips again as she watched his toned, muscular body move as he shimmied out of his tight pants, then turned to face her.

Yes.

"And I can help wash your back," she added when he reached the tub.

"How kind of you." He smiled as he climbed into the tub, and she sat up to better…

"You know me, Potter. You know me so well…"

"Wake up, Granger."

She blinked. Another dream. Another of those dreams. And with Potter. She glared at him, and he recoiled.

"It's morning," he said. "You wanted to get up early, remember?"

Right. She nodded. "Yes. Thank you." She smiled at him.

He blinked, then shook his head. "I'm going to prepare breakfast."

"Coconut?" she asked, tilting her head as he turned away.

He snorted. "That's my line."

She snorted in return. But as soon as he had left her bedroom, she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. What was wrong with her? Sure, Potter was reasonably handsome and not completely insufferable as long as he could keep his tongue in check, but there were far more handsome boys and men she could dream of, weren't there? And she had a very good imagination.

It was the stress and their isolation. It had to be.

She shook her head as she moved to their table, then cast a hairstyling charm to tame her mane. Potter had breakfast ready. Not that it took much preparation - just a few spells to enlarge and cut the coconut and place it onto their improvised plates. "Thank you," she said anyway.

"It's my pleasure to serve you, Miss," he replied, giving her a quick bow. "I'm sorry for the lack of alternatives, but we're faced with a slight shortage of other food."

She snorted. "Your waiter's impression needs some work."

"That was my gentleman's impression," he told her.

"You sounded more like a butler," she retorted.

"Who would be a gentleman's gentleman, right?" He grinned at her.

She pursed her lips. He was technically correct. Technically. She took a bite from her slices of coconut meat before saying: "For a gentleman, you're not very courteous towards a lady."

"You're a lady?" He gaped at her and put his hand on his heart. "I had no idea!"

She glared at him. "What exactly did you think I was instead?"

"A witch?"

"Witches can be ladies, as you would know if you had paid attention in History of Magic."

He snorted. "Binns isn't a teacher but a verbal sleeping pill."

"Yes? It's not for the weak." She grinned.

He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I don't think we should head for the hilltop straight away. Instead, we should explore the area around us. I would prefer to know that there's nothing dangerous nearby - and we'll be able to find the shelter again more easily even if we misjudge the distance travelled."

That was good thinking. With the Four-Point Spell, they would be able to navigate the island - but judging distances wouldn't be as easy. And the spell wouldn't be overly precise, either. So, there would be a rather significant margin of error when they were navigating. She nodded. "I agree. We don't really know much about this area." They hadn't had time to explore. And even if they had the time, it would've been too dangerous with the wyvern still hunting them. If the creature had caught one of them a few hundred yards from the shelter...

Potter seemed surprised. Had he expected her to disagree with a perfectly logical suggestion? "Right. So, we'll slowly widen our perimeter until we know the nearby area."

"It'll also serve as a good way to train casting the Four-Point Spell," she told him.

He grumbled a little at that as he put the 'plates' away - as if he didn't need the exercise; successfully casting a spell was a long way from actually mastering it. "Let's go then."

"Yes." She stood and cast another cleaning charm at herself. "If we're lucky, we'll find a pond nearby."

Now why was he looking at her like that?

*****​

Harry Potter suppressed the vivid memories of his weird dream. They were too far from the hill for a waterfall or anything like it, anyway. "So… going south first?" he asked as he stepped outside the shelter.

"I think we should head first to the shore. Knowing the way to and from the ocean will allow us to find our way back faster, should we have to," Granger told him. She took a deep breath, then stretched and rolled her shoulders as soon as she was next to him. "We might want to excavate a small air shaft in the back, to improve the airflow."

He nodded after a moment. "Both sound good."

She tilted her head and glanced at him. "That sounds like you expect me to do the excavating."

He grinned. "Well, if you need help, I would certainly lend you my assistance."

"No, I can do it," she replied with a half-frown. "So… shore?"

He nodded and pointed west. "That would be this direction. West."

She cast her spell, then nodded. "Now… let's go slowly and look for any sort of landmarks." And backtrack often, so we don't get lost."

They'd already gone over that. He rolled his eyes when she walked past him, peering at the jungle in front of them. "And we have to watch that we don't get separated."

"If we do, I'll just summon you," she said with a grin.

"You mean you'll summon my clothes," he corrected her.

She blushed for a moment, then frowned at him. "You know what I mean." With a huff, she walked past him into the jungle.

He made a noncommittal sound as he followed her. Teasing her was fun.

Then he blinked. What? Teasing Granger hadn't been really fun for years.

"Are you coming?" She looked over her shoulder at him.

"Yes. I was just thinking about navigating the jungle," he lied.

*****​

"Alright… we've explored our immediate surroundings," Granger said.

"For hours," Harry added.

She frowned at him. "We took two tries to find our way back to the shelter from our first landmark," she reminded him.

"That was our first try. We've gotten better," he retorted.

"We've become more familiar with this area."

"Which was our goal." He grinned. "So, let's go further and reach the shore." He pointed at a palm tree nearby. "We can eat lunch on the way."

Granger sighed but nodded. "Too bad there was no pond. We might've been able to fish."

"Oh, yes… grilled fish…" Just the memory made his mouth water a little. He was sick of coconuts. "That's another reason to reach the shore."

"I'm aware," she said. She cast a spell, then turned. "West is this direction."

"Alright."

They slowly walked on, looking back and trying to memorise the path. Which was harder than it sounded, what with there not actually being any path. "We should leave marks," he said. That would speed up things. A few cuts every few trees...

"That would lead others towards our shelter," she replied.

"We haven't seen any sign of humans on the island," he told her.

"We haven't explored the island - we haven't even verified that it is an island."

He snorted. She just had to be contrarian. Shaking his head, he used his wand to cut a low-hanging branch, then pushed past a bush…

...and stopped at the sight in front of him.

"What? Trouble?" Granger asked from behind him.

"Maybe," he replied, pointing ahead. "There's a hut."

"A hut?" she whispered. A moment later, she was at his side, peering through the dense foliage. "It looks like the remains of a hut," she said.

He nodded. The basic structure seemed intact, but the roof had caved in, and parts of the walls were missing. And it was partially overgrown. "I don't see anyone nearby."

"Me neither," she replied in a low voice.

"I'll go check it out - cover me," he told her.

"Alright."

He slowly approached the ruins. No sign of anyone living there - the grass was unperturbed, no tracks, nothing. But… The canopy above was lighter. And he could see broken branches if he squinted.

Then he reached the hut and saw the claw marks on the tree near it. Wyvern claws. Old marks. And the hut… He tilted his head, looked at the hut, then at the trees, then up.

It looked like the hut had been caved in by the wyvern.

Suddenly, Harry was dreading what he might find inside it.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 14: The Hut

Quartier Magique, Paris, France, July 10th, 1996

Paris smelt incredible! Padfoot wagged his tail as he walked along the main street in the Magical Quarter in Paris. So many exotic scents and smells! And no trace of a hag's stench, or a vampire's, unlike in Knockturn Alley. But the best scents were the food! So many different, delightful, deliciously smelling dishes!

He approached a food stall selling skewers, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The owner, a pretty witch, glared at him but didn't aim her wand at him. Which meant he had already won.

Padfoot sat down and looked at her with bright eyes. She narrowed her eyes, then went back to cooking a skewer full of delicious meat. Lesser dogs would've been fooled by this, but Padfoot wasn't a common dog. He stayed and waited.

There! She was glancing at him. Padfoot kept looking at her without reacting. That was key - you couldn't be too eager.

She returned to cooking, then glanced at him again. He remained seated, his tails slowly moving back and forth. Just a good dog.

When she sighed, he knew he had her.

"Vraiment…" she shook her head as she grabbed some meat from a bowl, put it on a paper plate and floated it towards him. "Bon appétit, mon grand!"

He barked his thanks and scarfed the meat down. Delicious!

Then he barked again and trotted off. There were many other stalls and shops to check. Wormtail had told him so. And Wormtail was always far too nervous, but he knew more than anyone else, apart from Dumbledore. And he knew where their prey was. Roughly.

Wormtail needed Padfoot's fine nose to find out in which building their prey was hiding. The wizard they were hunting was a coward and good at hiding, but everyone needed to eat. And the man loved his treats.

Then again, who didn't love treats? Padfoot certainly did! And he would be getting many treats during his stroll down the main street here. Many delicious treats.

Case in point, he approached the next stall. Unlike the first, this was built into a house, with a big window open to the street. Padfoot took a deep breath. Oh, yes - spiced lamb! His tongue was lolling again. Also, no scent of the prey, but Padfoot would be endangering his cover if he skipped such a fine stall. No good dog worth their fur would do that! Not when…

He wrinkled his nose as the unmistakable scent of cat penetrated his nose. How had he missed that particular odour so far? And so close. Where was it? He looked around, then spotted the cat on the shelf behind the stall's cook.

They let a cat into the kitchen?

The cat stared at him, lips drawn back to reveal puny teeth. Padfoot softly growled in return.

Then the clerk noticed him. "À qui appartient ce chien?"

The customers waiting in line turned, and one after another, shook their heads.

The cat jumped on the counter and hissed at Padfoot. And no one said anything?

Padfoot made a gagging noise and left the premises. Even with a cleaning charm on the entire kitchen - and that would explain why he hadn't smelt the foul creature - he wouldn't eat from that stall. A dog had his pride.

But there was another stall ahead. One selling dessert! Tartes! He didn't slobber - people didn't like dogs slobbering. Especially not near food. But the thought of some tarte with whipped cream and some ice cream on top… He could already smell all the different flavours. Certainly not as great as Fortescue's, but still...

He froze. That scent… it matched the one from the bedsheet Prongs had given him before he had left for France.

Cobblespun. Their prey was here. Had been here. Padfoot suppressed a growl - he had to be nice now, or the people would try to hex him. Just a nice dog begging for some treats.

And looking for the trail of their prey. Yes, the man had spent some time at this stall. Padfoot sniffed twice. An older and a fresher scent.

The man had visited at least twice. That meant he'd visit a third time! All Padfoot had to do was to wait here.

And convince the witch running the stall that he was a good dog, so she wouldn't drive him away.

He sat down on the road, at the wall of the closest house, and dropped his head on his front paws. Just a tired, hungry dog trying to avoid getting hexed while he rested for a while…

The kind witch was feeding him ice cream before an hour had passed.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 10th, 1996

Harry Potter knew his… not fears; his reservations… were baseless. He knew how big the wyvern was - had been. If it attacked a human, it would swallow them whole. There wouldn't be a skeleton left in the hut, the remains of a human being killed by a monster.

Yet he still held his breath when he approached the hut and peered through the hole in its side.

No skeleton. Or, no skeleton he could see - grass covered the ground inside the hut, having grown rather tall. Not dense enough to hide a body, though. A body would've been bad, but a snake or other venomous creature hiding inside would be worse.

"What are you doing?" Granger asked. "Is it safe?"

He frowned, though she wouldn't see it, with him behind the hut. Although the area seemed safe. "Checking for snakes," he replied.

"Snakes?"

Right, she had a thing about snakes being were-sapients or whatever. "I didn't see any. But the inside is pretty overgrown."

"Then we need to be careful clearing it," she told him.

That had sounded closer… He looked round the corner and saw that she was walking towards him.

"The wyvern tore it up," he told her.

"Any sign of a battle? I mean, a sign that someone fought back?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. So far."

She nodded. "So, let's clear the grass. A few Severing Charms should do it." She waved her wand without waiting for an answer, and the grass started to get trimmed.

Suppressing the urge to scoff, he used his wand to let a gentle breeze gather the cut grass in the corner of the hut.

And clenched his teeth when that revealed the skeletal remains of a hand. A hand with a wand. "Someone did fight back, it seems," he commented, trying to sound far more composed than he felt.

He heard her gasp, and she sounded a little shaky when she replied: "I assume we know where the rest of the body was taken." Then she stepped inside the hut, climbing over the broken remains of the torn wall, and knelt down next to the bones. "Yes. It looks like the wyvern bit clean through the arm."

Harry joined her. "It would've gone for the main body mass - head and chest - and bitten down. Must have cut the arm right off. But where are the legs?" Or the lower body, depending on how much the wyvern's maw would've closed on.

Granger took a deep breath. "They would've been much bigger than a torn hand - the wyvern wouldn't have left them."

"So, we know it killed a wizard or witch," Harry summed up.

"At least one," Granger said. "Although it's hard to tell how long ago this happened."

Harry looked at the wand without touching it. You didn't just grab someone else's wand without permission. "The wand looks pretty good for having been dropped in a jungle for at least months or years. The protective charms on the wand should still be active, then."

"It has been some time - the wood is rotten," Granger said, pointing at the broken board.

"That can happen quickly in a tropical climate," Harry told her.

"Yes, but not instantly. And the bones here… that would've taken some time as well. Especially if the charms on the wand kept insects at bay."

"Right." He touched the wand with his index finger - of his left hand. Nothing happened.

"What are you doing?" Granger asked.

"It might be protected against others touching it," he said.

"Really?" She sounded doubtful.

He shrugged. "It's not uncommon. It's not allowed for students since teachers might have to take our wands, and not many wizards want their family cursed for touching their wands, but some do it."

"And you thought touching it was a good way to test it?" Granger shook her head and muttered something he didn't catch under his breath.

"Well, someone had to. We can't leave a spare wand laying here," he shot back. "And most protections are just jolts or something, not actual curses."

"'Most'," she replied. "Well, it seems safe."

"Yes." He still waited a moment before gingerly picking it up and looking at it closely. "Doesn't look like it's one of Ollivander's."

Granger nodded in agreement, peering at it herself. "The style doesn't fit. The rune on the grip is Arabian."

"An Arab wizard - or witch - stranded on the island, creating a shelter, only to be eaten by the wyvern." Harry nodded. That sounded plausible. He carefully put the wand down again.

"One thing doesn't fit, though," Granger said. "Why would they have created a hut in the middle of the jungle instead of at the shore?"

Right. "They tried to hide - from the wyvern."

Granger nodded. "That would fit. And they didn't succeed."

"And they didn't leave anything else that we might be able to…" Harry trailed off when he saw the carving on the intact wall. Those were letters!

*****​

"That's French," Hermione Granger said, peering at the letters carved into the wood.

"I told you that," Potter said.

"Trust, but verify," she shot back.

"Oh, you trust me?"

She rolled her eyes. She didn't have to look over her shoulder at him to know he was grinning at her. "Within reason. Very, very limited reason."

"You don't trust me to recognise French?" He gasped theatrically.

"Unless it concerns Quidditch, no," she told him with a sniff.

He laughed at that. "So, what does it mean? Apart from the name?"

"It's the name of the witch, Amélie Besson," she told him.

"I do recognise names." He sounded a little annoyed.

She ignored him as she traced the letters, reading them out loud - and feeling her stomach sink. "Amélie Besson. Marseille. Enlevée le douze juin mille neuf cent quatre-vingt-onze."

"What does 'enlevée" mean?" Potter asked.

"It means kidnapped."

"What?"

"The witch - Besson - was kidnapped a bit over five years ago," she told him. "According to this message."

"Kidnapped."

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"Échappée le quatre juillet," she went on. "Escaped on the fourth of July." She shook her head, feeling sick. "So, she was kidnapped, escaped, and then was killed by the wyvern." She looked at Potter. "It doesn't say who kidnapped her. Or how she ended up on this island."

"Or why she didn't leave," Potter said with a grim expression.

"I would think that that was because of the wyvern - she was hiding from it in the jungle," Hermione told him. Only Besson hadn't been as successful at hiding as they had been. On the other hand, they didn't know how long Besson had survived before the wyvern found her. "She must have been a student like us. Otherwise, she would've cast a Disillusionment Charm. Or apparated."

Potter didn't look like he agreed. "Not many wizards or witches would be able to cast a Disillusionment Charm. As for Apparition… do you know how many Splinching cases St Mungo's gets in a year?"

"No, I don't," she replied. "How many cases are admitted to St Mungo's?"

"Enough to hire two Healers specialised on de-splinching patients."

She wasn't certain whether 'de-splinching' was a real word or not, but she was certain that Potter didn't know the numbers either. "Wouldn't the Disillusionment Charm be on the curriculum at Beauxbatons?" It was on Hogwarts' curriculum, after all.

He shrugged. "So?"

"What 'so'? Every student is supposed to learn the spell!" That dated back to the signing of the Statute of Secrecy, she had learned - every wizard or witch was supposed to be able to hide from muggles.

"'Supposed to', yes. That doesn't mean everyone, or even the majority learn the spell - and those who do might forget it after they finish school." Potter grinned. "Unless you're an Auror or Duellist, you might never cast it again in your life."

She pursed her lips. How could you forget such a spell? Or any spell? You never knew when you might need it! Some people were simply too lazy! "So, we don't know much other than her name and her fate," she said. Not a very satisfying result of their investigation.

"Well, we know that she didn't expect to survive," Potter said.

She cocked her head at him. "Why do you think this is the case?"

"People don't tend to leave such messages if they expect to survive." Potter shook his head.

"And you're an expert on this subject?" She raised her eyebrows. She doubted that - it wasn't Quidditch.

"Dad told us stories," he replied.

Ah. Marginally more trustworthy, then. "Stories."

"Yes. True stories from work."

She sniffed. "I see." She could see Potter's father using sensitive information to entertain his family - not that Wizarding Britain might have a problem with that, anyway.

"Anyway, we also don't know who kidnapped her," Potter went on. "Some dark wizard feeding the wyvern?"

"Then why would she have written that she escaped?" That didn't make much sense. And why kidnap people to feed a wyvern if you could steal cows and sheep instead?

"She could've been fooled - she thought she was escaping, say by Portkey, and played into their hands."

"That sounds very convoluted. Are you familiar with Occam's razor?" She looked at him.

"When humans are involved, the most simple explanation might not be the most plausible one," he retorted.

"I would say the same about the most paranoid explanation." And Potter's theory sounded like a conspiracy fantasy.

"You should meet Mad-Eye Moody. He would show you what counts as paranoid." Potter was smiling again in that smug manner of his.

She clenched her teeth. It wasn't her fault that she hadn't grown up in the magical world and didn't know any famous - or infamous - wizards and witches. But this wasn't the time or place to discuss this. "We should mark this spot. And we have to gather her remains."

Potter looked surprised but nodded quickly. "Once we're back in Britain, we can return them and her wand to her family."

"Yes." That was obvious, after all.

*****​

Harry Potter tried not to wince when Granger started gathering the bones - the finger bones - of the dead French witch. How could she just… pick them up like that, without any reaction? Wasn't she feeling queasy about handling the remains of dead people?

That had been a witch, eaten alive - probably. Her hand bitten off. Merlin's balls, if they had been a little slower, or more stupid, this might've been them. He felt a shudder run down his spine at the thought.

Then Granger picked up the witch's wand. Again, no sign that she felt conflicted about it. It was as if she was picking up a twig and not another witch's wand. If Malfoy saw this, he'd run his foul mouth off about muggleborns. And if Moody saw how Granger stuck the wand into her back pocket...

"Alright. We need a container for this - a stone urn would be appropriate but tricky to make and harder to transport. But we can make a wooden box. It doesn't have to be airtight since there aren't any ashes, just bones and bone fragments," Granger said, looking around. "Or we could grab a coconut and hollow it out."

"That sounds a little nuts," he joked, forcing himself to smile. He couldn't show any uneasiness in front of Granger.

She chuckled. "It's just for keeping the bones together until we leave - we won't have to tell her family that detail."

"Right. Coconut? I could do with some milk." He looked at the closest palm tree, then raised his wand and cast a cutting curse.

A single coconut fell down, and he summoned it before it touched the ground. Hah!

Even Granger looked impressed. A little, at least.

He cut off the top of the nut and drank his fill from the milk inside, then handed it over to Granger.

"How gallant of you," she said as she took it.

"I was taste-testing for you," he replied with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, then took a few sips herself. "I didn't expect to miss fizzy drinks so much," she said with a snort.

"Hogwarts must be hell for you, then," he commented.

"Not really. We've got tea on demand. And I can buy fizzy drinks in Hogsmeade." She took another sip. Probably just to avoid wasting the liquid.

"I think the twins also sell them," he told her.

She shook her head in return, scowling. "Their prices are too high."

"Well, they do take risks smuggling the stuff in." He shrugged. "Or you can have your parents send you a package."

Her frown deepened. "My parents are dentists. They wouldn't send me fizzy drinks if I asked."

He chuckled - she looked just too cute with that scowling pout. Then he blinked. He meant too funny, not too cute, of course.

"It's not very funny," she told him, still pouting. "I never had as many sweets as other children, either."

"Be glad," he said. "My cousin's overweight since my aunt and uncle let him eat whatever sweets he wanted." At least that was what Mum had told him. Dudley claimed it was genes.

"That's irresponsible!" She looked aghast.

He shrugged. "Half the time, he's on a diet."

She frowned. "That only leads to a yoyo-effect. You need to permanently change your dietary habits, or you'll gain weight as soon as you end your diet."

Harry shrugged. That would explain why Dudley didn't really lose weight. Although he might also cheat on his diet - he certainly had the money to go and buy whatever food he wanted.

She finished the last of the milk, then cast her anti-diarrhoea spell on her and him. "Now the coconut meat." She looked at the coconut, then cut it in half with a Severing Charm and handed him half of it. "Bon appetit."

He laughed at her joke, then started to carve the meat off the shell with a few charms, chewing on a larger piece. He was getting sick of the taste.

A little later, Granger had restored the nut with a Sticking Charm and dropped the bones into it. "Do you want to carry the wand?" She drew it from her pocket and held it out to him.

"It's fine. You can keep it."

She snorted as she looked at her shorts. "I guess I can stick it to my forearm. That seems to be the safest way to carry it."

"Until you rip it away with part of your skin," he pointed out.

This time, she grimaced - and handed the wand to him. "Stick it to your sleeve then. We can mend that."

He took the wand, once more hiding his reluctance. A spare wand is good, he told himself. Especially for two students stranded on a desert island. But still… it felt a little like touching someone without having their permission.

He forced the thought away when he stuck it to his left sleeve. They needed it. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

"So," he said, standing up. "To the beach now?"

"Yes. But we should be a little more cautious," Granger replied.

He nodded. They hadn't seen any sign of potential kidnappers, but then - they hadn't explored much of the island yet.

*****​

It was late in the afternoon - the sun was quite low in the sky - when they reached the shore. The beach, as it turned out. Not the beach on which they had been dropped by the Portkey, Hermione Granger quickly realised. But still a beach that wouldn't feel out of place as a poster in a travel agency.

She glanced up.

"There's no wyvern in the sky," Potter commented. "I just checked."

"And broom riders?" she asked. "Or, in this area, flying carpets?"

He shrugged. "I didn't spot any of those, either - but they could be disillusioned. They probably would be if they know about the wyvern, but not that it's dead. Though flying carpets aren't really good for spotting anything on the ground since they block your view."

"Have you flown one?" she asked.

"Not in Britain," he replied at once with that grin that told her that he was lying. "They're banned."

"I'm aware of that." The broom makers must have lobbied hard to push such a ban through.

"Did you ever fly on a flying carpet?"

"No." She pressed her lips together. Not everyone could travel all over the Magical World. Or afford to buy a flying carpet in Paris.

"Ah. It's not really all that," he said. "Not as fast or agile as a broom, and steering it is clumsy. The only advantage is that you can sit or lay down on one - and you can more easily transport passengers."

"I see." Damn, could Potter be less condescending? Trying to make her feel better about not being able to afford a flying carpet… So transparent! "We shouldn't linger for too long here," she said. "We're exposed."

"Oh, yes," he agreed.

His tone felt a little off - and she caught him looking at her when she glanced at him. "We should at least check for fish." They would have to cook it thoroughly to avoid ingesting parasites and to kill off bacteria, of course.

"Oh, yes!" He beamed at her. "I'm so sick of bloody coconuts!"

"Well, so much for fish in coconut sauce." She sighed.

He stared at her. "Don't tell me that you actually know such a recipe!"

She snorted. "No." Then she tilted her head and frowned. "Although it shouldn't be too hard to recreate it. Which reminds me: We'll need salt as well, for seasoning and to replace what we sweat. We'll have to find a way to evaporate seawater and gain salt."

"Oh." He rubbed his chin - he was getting quite the stubble, she realised. Didn't he know a shaving charm? "So… we make a pot and boil the seawater in it?"

She nodded. "Yes. I thought about using the sun and large basins, but…"

"...those would be visible from afar," he finished for her.

"Exactly. And probably not as hygienic as boiling the water. Though we'll have to use a charm - or a lot of firewood, which would run the risk of producing a lot of smoke."

He nodded. "Like in the cave. Do you know a Heating Charm?"

"Yes." It was much safer - and better - than an open flame when brewing potions. "You do too, I presume."

"Of course."

'Of course'. She fought the urge to shake her head. "So, then let's see if we can start on that with a transfigured coconut pot and then we can look for fish."

"Right." He turned, flicked his wand, and another coconut flew towards them.

She didn't give him the satisfaction of looking impressed. Even though it was impressive - and annoying - how easy he made such feats look.

But it helped. She looked at the sun, then checked the time. "I think we should be able to get one batch."

"Good. And we can use the coconut meat as bait."

"Good idea."

Cutting the coconut in two and stripping it of any meat and milk didn't take long. Hermione cast a few cleaning charms, then transfigured the two halves into metal and enlarged them. She used a Levitation Charm to dip them into the sea to fill them, then floated them back to the beach.

And tried to hide how much that took out of her.

But finally, the two pots were heating and boiling the water.

"I'm going to look for fish," she said, kicking her shoes off.

"Catch some," Potter replied, watching the pots with his wand pointed at them.

"That's the idea," she said, gathering some coconut meat before stepping into the water.

It was cool. Refreshing.

She couldn't resist. She stuck her wand into the sand, dropped the meat next to it, and ran into the surf.

*****​

"Granger!" Harry Potter half-gasped half-yelled when he saw the girl run into the sea. "What are you doing?" She couldn't...

She could. While he was watching, the girl launched herself forward, diving into the sea as if she were at a pool. Or a beach. Well, a beach for tourists.

He held his breath, clenching his teeth - and then she resurfaced. And stood there, in the shallow water, throwing her head back and running her fingers through her hair. As if this was one of the movies he had watched with Dudley.

At least she hadn't stripped down. That would've been… distracting.

He trailed off as Granger turned towards him and waved. With her top all wet and… What the hell had gotten into her? "What are you doing?" he yelled.

"Swimming, of course. What does it look like?" she yelled back, laughing.

Harry figured it was best to not tell her what it looked like. At least to him. "It looks like you're trying to hunt fish with your bare hands!"

She laughed even more at that, then let herself fall backwards, disappearing underwater again. He clenched his teeth. She was having fun, and he was stuck boiling water. How was that fair?

She resurfaced again but didn't stand up. Instead, she kept swimming. Yes, she was having fun. And completely ignoring the danger she was in - they were on a magically hidden island where at least one witch had been killed already! This wasn't some… tourist resort!

And how long was Granger going to take in the water? He scoffed as he watched her swim about two dozen yards out. The sun would soon set, too.

Finally, she walked out of the water, shaking her hair. And smiling widely. "Dear Lord, I missed that!" she exclaimed. "It's been ages!"

"You took a swim in the pond, remember?" Harry told her.

She snorted. "I was under attack by a man-eating monster at the time. It's not quite the same."

"And what if you were attacked by a monster in the water?"

She frowned at him as she picked up her wand and started casting a Drying Charm on her clothes. "A sea monster?"

"You mentioned them when we discussed building a raft, didn't you?" He smirked. And tried not to look at her body. Damn, this was worse than if she had worn a bikini.

"So close to the shore? I think not. I could see very far, too - and the water's shallow, quite far out." Then she smiled at him. "Besides, you would've summoned me to you if I had been in danger, wouldn't you?"

Well, that was true, of course, but still! "It was still dangerous," he said. He was smiling, though, he noticed.

"So, you don't want to go swimming while I watch over you?" She tilted her head, then drew her hair back into a ponytail with a flick of her wand.

"I think I'll go fishing instead," he told her.

"Oh, no need for that." She turned, raised her wand, and said: "Accio big grey fish!"

A big grey fish flew out of the sea and towards her. Big enough for several meals, he realised when it flopped in the sand before Granger literally froze it with a charm. "I was looking for fish." She smirked at him. "You didn't think I would ignore my task, did you?"

He snorted in return. He should point out how reckless she had been, but she had gotten a fish. "How do we cook it?" he asked instead.

"I think grilling would be safest," she said. "Or boiling? Fish soup?"

"Have you ever made fish soup?" he asked. Her frown told him enough. "Let's grill it." That was easy and would add flavour. Not that he needed it - after days of nothing but coconut meals, he would eat raw fish for a change.

"So, do you want to take a dip before we head back?" she asked, before turning her wand on herself and… casting a Cleaning Charm on herself? "I don't want to get salt crusts," she explained.

Right. He nodded. Then he looked at the water. It looked cool. Fresh. Clean. Straight out of a travel ad. And he felt sweaty and dirty. "I think I'll do it," he told her.

Then he pulled off his shirt, shoes and trousers before sticking his wand into the sand like Granger had. "Keep your eyes on me in case a Kraken tries to eat me," he told her.

"Ah… of course!" she replied. She sounded a little off, but when he looked at her, she nodded at him with her usual expression.

"Good." He nodded at her, then went swimming for a bit himself.

And, damn, did the water feel good! No wonder Granger had reacted like that - even a girl like her would cut loose a little after days in the jungle.

*****​

Hermione Granger only watched Potter closely while he was swimming because someone had to keep an eye out for dangers, and he had done the same for her before. That was all. Besides, the distance from the shore, where the last of the seawater in the coconut-pots was evaporating, to where the boy was swimming was too far to get a look at his body, anyway.

Though she would have to tell him that he couldn't just go swimming in his underwear - it might not be sturdy enough to drag him along when summoned. And that would leave him literally naked in the face of danger.

She pressed her lips together and pushed the inappropriate thoughts that conjured in her mind away. They really needed to get off this island and back to civilisation. Back to where she wasn't alone with one boy and her hormones. Back to her books, too - she was really missing reading. Books, magazines, newspapers - anything. Even the tabloids were starting to look appealing to her.

She snorted. And didn't that explain why Potter was starting to look attractive? Together with his unquestionably impressive physical appearance. For a boy, at least. If he didn't let himself go as soon as he quit Hogwarts, he would cut a dashing figure in a few years. Quidditch fangirls would be swarming him.

She clenched her teeth at the thought, suddenly angry. To think self-respecting women would fawn over someone purely because they were famous, physically attractive and rich! Well, well-off - the Potters weren't hurting for money, but they weren't close to what the purebloods considered rich. Families like the Malfoys and the Blacks.

Of course, Sirius Black was Potter's godfather, as Potter had told Malfoy several times when the two had clashed, and Malfoy had boasted about his family's money and influence. And Black had no children - yet.

She shook her head and sighed. Life wasn't fair. If it were, she wouldn't be on this island. There was no point in dwelling on this.

A few minutes later, Potter returned to the shore. "You were right - this is great!" he announced with a smile.

She hadn't actually said that - but the meaning had been clear. She nodded, then looked at the salt crust remaining inside the make-shift pots. Instead of at Potter when he dried off. "We'll have to scratch the salt off and make another container," she commented as she cut a piece of wood into a crude scraper, then cast a cleaning charm on it.

"We're starting a new trend: coconut cutlery!"

"It would be coconut silverware," she corrected him.

"That doesn't sound as catchy," he retorted.

"But it's incorrect and misleading," she pointed out.

"That's advertising in a nutshell, isn't it?"

That was a terrible pun! She turned her head to tell him off… Oh. He was hosing himself down with water. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "You're still no future comedian."

"Good thing I'm planning to become a professional Quidditch player, then."

"Well, you could start a Quidditch clown career."

He blinked and stopped pulling his shirt back on for a moment. "Quidditch clown?"

"You know, like rodeo clowns."

"Rodeo clowns?"

"The people who entertain the crowd at rodeos," she explained.

"People don't come to Quidditch matches to watch clowns," he retorted. "Rodeos must be boring if they need clowns to entertain the audience." He scoffed. Then he grinned. "You're not going to be a comedian either."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not planning to become one," she told him.

He looked at her for a moment. Then he slipped his shirt back on and asked. "What are you planning to do after Hogwarts?"

"I haven't decided yet," she told him.

"Really?" He looked surprised. "I would have thought you had planned your life in second year."

"I like to keep my options open," she told him. What options she realistically had, of course - unlike a pureblood, who could count on family connections, she was a muggleborn. She would have to succeed entirely with talent. And from what she had heard, the Ministry, Britain's biggest employer, was riddled with nepotism. A muggleborn had to be much more qualified than a pureblood to be promoted in such an environment.

Fortunately, she was much more qualified than most purebloods. Unfortunately, at the higher level, qualifications didn't count as much any more than politics did. And politics were a pureblood game.

"That's sensible. But you must have picked some options over others." Potter pulled his shoes on as she finished scraping the salt - less than she expected, to be honest - into another coconut container. "I can't see you as a saleswitch, for example. Unless it's a bookshop."

She snorted at that. "The most obvious fields are the Ministry and private research." And the latter meant working for a pureblood family, having them reap all the benefits of her work, or try to strike out on her own.

"Ah." He nodded, apparently satisfied. Typical.

"Let's head back," she said. "And take the pots with us." They were a little too visible to leave at the beach. "We might have to extract the salt at night," she added. "Or at least under cover."

"Yes." He frowned as he shrunk the two pots. "We didn't think this through."

"Yes. But transporting seawater back to our shelter would be a pain. We probably can set up closer to the shore under the trees here," she pointed out.

"Might need to clear an area," he replied. "Though we'll have to be exposed to fish."

"And to bathe," she added. "Unless you want to build a bathhouse."

She saw him tense up at that. Was that such a challenge? "It wouldn't be too hard," she explained. "The main issue would be draining the water afterwards, and we can vanish it in a pinch. Or we can set up an outdoor shower. Making a valve might be a little tricky, but if we make the tank big enough, we wouldn't need it."

"Right," he said - rather curtly. "But let's head back - I really want to eat something other than coconut."

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "Definitely."

*****​

"Hmmm." Sitting on the log next to the fire, Hermione Granger closed her eyes and sighed. The grilled fish might not have been up to restaurant standards - or even the standards of her parents, neither of whom were the best cooks - but after days of coconuts, it tasted heavenly. Even the burnt parts.

"Oh, yes!" Nex to her, Potter was digging in. Even in the dimming light of the fire, he looked like he was barely restraining himself from just grabbing the grilled fish and eating it, she noticed with amusement.

"Too bad we don't have side dishes," she said. "But we could look for bird nests and see if we can gather some eggs."

"What are the odds that they would be freshly laid?" he asked. "I'm not sure scrambled birds would be very tasty."

She grimaced, then took another bite out of her fish. "Never mind."

They quickly finished their fish - Hermione didn't remember eating so much fish in one sitting, ever - but stayed sitting at their improvised campfire. "Dried seaweed, maybe," she said.

"Seaweed?"

Potter didn't have to stare at her like that. "It's eaten in both Wales and Japan," she told him.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I researched the matter in school."

"You researched seaweed?" He shook his head.

"We were told to research important women - scientists," she explained. "Kathleen Mary Drew-Baker was amongst them."

"And she researched seaweed?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. And saved that part of the Japanese food industry. They have a festival celebrating her." At least, she was pretty sure - she might be mixing up things. Not that it mattered overly much. "Although I don't know what kind of seaweed is edible."

"Ah." He sighed, then leaned back.

"Looking at the canopy?" she asked.

"Can't see the stars, so the leaves have to do."

She snorted at that. But she looked at the canopy herself. "Tomorrow, we can explore the hill." Now that they would be able to find their way back.

"And then we'll know if we're on an island," he agreed. "And if it's inhabited."

"Technically, it's inhabited by us," she pointed out. "We've got a house. Of sorts."

She saw him shake his head. "You know what I mean."

"Yes." She grinned herself.

"You just like correcting people."

"I like correcting you," she corrected him.

He laughed at that.

She joined in.

The wyvern was dead, they'd finally had a decent meal, and Potter wasn't being an arse.

Things were looking up.

Then she caught herself before she leaned into his side and mentally added that things were looking up except for her hormones acting up.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 15: The Hill

Quartier Magique, Paris, France, July 10th, 1996

Sirius Black studied the house across the street from his perch high up on a broom with the help of his cutting-edge Omnioculars. Cutting edge - he loved the muggle expression. Almost as much as he loved using such expressions to tweak his bigoted 'colleagues' in the Wizengamot. Too bad he couldn't tell them that he was about to break into a French house - while his use of muggle slang annoyed them, a number of them would be horrified if they knew this.

He was disillusioned and too high to be in the range of any Human-presence-revealing Spell cast on the ground or on the roof, but that didn't mean he was completely safe. The French Gendarmes Magiques might not be up to the standards of the British Aurors - at least not when it came to investigations - but they certainly weren't pushovers or layabouts. That was why they had waited for the evening patrol to pass before taking to the sky and taking a closer look at the house Padfoot had discovered.

It did look rather bland from afar. Not any taller than its neighbours, nor built in a different style. Almost perfectly average except for the decorative turret at the corner. It barely topped the roof, but it made the house stand out just enough not to look suspiciously normal.

At least that was what Peter had called it. Sirius wasn't an Auror or a spy, so he would have to defer to his friend's expertise in this area. Just as Peter had had to defer to Sirius's talents - his friend hadn't been happy to find out that Cobblespun wasn't actually staying in La Folie de Morgane, the best wizarding hotel in Paris, but in this rather plain building, but Padfoot's nose didn't make mistakes.

Sirius, on the other hand, did make mistakes. Many. But not when it counted. Not so far. But he was distracting himself. He focused on the house below again. The turret with its big windows was an obvious weak spot. Windows were generally easier to break through than walls. Generally - some reinforced their windows and doors so much, the walls were the weakest part of the building. But this house didn't look like this would be the case - the protections on it weren't new, but not really old. His dear unlamented mother would've sneered at the mere thought of calling them old.

"So, what's the verdict?" he heard Peter whisper in his ear thanks to the charm on Sirius's collar.

"Standard protections," Sirius replied. He wasn't a Curse-Breaker, but, during the war, he had dealt with enough wards to be able to tell that. And he had paid attention when he had hired a Curse-Breaker to strengthen his home's defences. "Shouldn't take you long to get through them." Sirius could break them, of course - but not without alerting anyone inside.

"I wanted to avoid doing that," Peter complained. "But the house is warded against rats."

Sirius smiled - not that Peter would be able to see it. That meant he would join his friend going in. "I'm coming down," he said.

"Check the windows on the way down," Peter told him. "Just in case."

Sirius rolled his eyes but looked at the windows as he guided his broom down to the ground. Nothing, not even with his Omnicoulars' spells. "Don't see anyone, asleep or not," he whispered when he stepped up to Peter, who was hiding behind a corner.

"That was to be expected," his friend replied. "Someone willing to pay for a room in La Folie de Morgane just to lead pursuers astray wouldn't make a beginner's mistake and present himself at the window of his bedroom."

Sirius shrugged. "It doesn't change anything. Once we're inside, I'll sniff him out."

"Yes." Peter sighed. "I'll start on the wards, then."

"Just finish before the sun goes up," Sirius told him. He'd rather not deal with witnesses if things went sideways and they had to blast their way out of the house.

"No promises," Peter said. "I can't rush this - I'm no Curse-Breaker."

Sirius snorted. Peter always said that - but he always came through. His friend was too modest for his own good. No wonder he hadn't found a good witch yet. And not because he was living the life of a muggle spy with a girl every other mission - Sirius had checked.

Perhaps after they'd recovered Harry and Miss Granger, Sirius could do something about that. His friend deserved better than to live alone, after all. At the very least, he could drag Peter with him when he went on a pub crawl in muggle London.

*****​

"I'm through," Peter announced.

Sirius smiled. No Curse-breaker' indeed! "So, let's go and get Mr Cobblespun!"

"Careful," Peter replied. "He won't be helpless, Guards, traps, beasts - he'll have something up his sleeve."

"I know!" Sirius grinned. He wasn't new to this. Perhaps a little rusty compared to his friend, but he did keep in shape with duelling. He had to so he could keep up with James in their sparring matches. And so that he could teach Harry.

Peter, though, sighed.

Sirius shook his head. "Oh, ye of such little faith!"

"Call it experience," Peter shot back. "Let's go. Floor by floor, stick close."

"Yes, sir!" Sirius saluted, just like he'd seen it on the telly.

Peter sighed again. "Wrong country."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Let's go."

They disillusioned themselves and dashed across the street, then alongside the building, to the back. The door there opened into a back alley without any lights other than the stars and the moon - and it was so narrow, the shadows cast by the neighbouring buildings hid almost everything in darkness.

Sirius could still see the marker floating above Peter approach the door, though, to pick the lock while Sirius played lookout. Or bodyguard. Bodyguard sounded better. More spy-like. He looked round but didn't spot anyone. Nor did Padfoot smell anyone, as a brief transformation told Sirius.

"Alright," Peter whispered. "It's open."

They entered the house. Peter went first - his marker went low. He was crouching to look at the floor. "No traps. Let's search the floor."

Sirius scoffed. A moment later, Padfoot knew that Cobblespun was upstairs. He barked, not loudly, then started up the stairs.

"Padfoot! Oh, for the love of…" Silly Wormtail followed him. "If you get cursed, I'll never let you forget it."

Well, Padfoot wouldn't forget it, either, if he were cursed.

The first floor was, well, not empty, but no Cobblespun. Padfoot went up the next stairs.

"Stop! Padfoot!"

He stopped, paw frozen in the air. Wormtail wasn't kidding if he used that voice.

"There's a trap."

A trap? Who would be as mad as to lay down a trap in a home? Unless it was for a prank. Or it wasn't your home.

Wormtail moved past him and started casting something. "I've dispelt it."

Good. Padfoot moved ahead again, nose on the floor. The smell was stronger here. And it didn't lead upstairs again - but forward! He trotted over the soft carpet, then had to stop - his nose itched, It was dusty, and he… he…

He sneezed. And sneezed again. And once more. And… he heard a curse from the room ahead. And the room behind it.

Oops.

"Padfoot!" Wormtail hissed.

But Sirius had already changed back, wand pointed ahead as he shifted in a classic duelling stance, presenting the narrowest target to the enemy. Then he cast a Shield Charm.

The closer door was pulled open, and he stepped to the side. A moment later, a wand appeared in the gap, and a brownish spell flew down the middle of the corridor.

Sirius sent a Reductor Curse at the door, blowing it into splinters and dust, then dropped into a crouch and flicked his wand, casting a Frog-Tongue Charm.

A tongue erupted from the tip of his wand and shot through the dust cloud into the room. Sirius felt it wrap itself around the other wizard and pulled.

And ended up with a chair in the corridor. Another curse, this one yellow, hit the chair and turned it into a puddle on the floor. Which started to eat through the floor.

That didn't look like a spell Cobblespun would know how to cast. "Get the other door," Sirius hissed, then moved to the edge of the blown door frame.

Peter's marker dipped low, almost touching the ground - he must have changed - and then shot down the corridor. Good.

Sirius took a deep breath and pulled out a 'Snape Special' from his robes' pocket. He threw it around the corner, into the room, then withdrew and cast a Mending Charm on the remains of the door still hanging from its hinges before any of the green mist the vial released could escape.

He heard some coughing, then heavy breathing - the wizard must have cast a Bubble-Head Charm - followed by the sound of someone falling over.

He grinned. As if they would come up with something easily countered by a single spell. Too bad they never got to use it against Snape.

"Got him," he said.

"Got him as well," Peter replied as his marker floated back into the corridor, trailing a bound and unconscious man after him. "Check him."

Padfoot sniffed the man, then barked before changing back. "Smells the same, and the clothes are his." But they couldn't rule out Polyjuice Potion.

But they could outwait it.

"Let's go," Peter said. "Hideout."

Sirius heard someone moving below them, but they were already at the window, and outside, disapparating, before anyone reached their floor.

*****​

Unknown Location, July 11th, 1996

The sun was barely up when Harry Potter approached Granger's bed. The girl was sleeping silently, now. No more speaking in her sleep. Or groaning. She was lying on her side, half her 'blanket' kicked off and entangled with her legs. Well, it was warm enough, even at night, so they didn't need a blanket.

He cleared his throat, then hesitated. Granger looked quite peaceful, like that. Bushy hair splayed around her head like a mane, lips slightly parted, one hand stuck under her makeshift pillow - she was sleeping with her wand under her pillow, he realised. Moody would like her. Of course, that was useless right now - if he wanted to, he could prank her to his heart's content.

He didn't want to, though. That would be stupid - they needed each other to survive on this island. The fight with the wyvern had proved that.

Also, if he pranked her, she'd be angry and hurt. And that was… He scoffed at the thought, then looked at her.

Asleep, she looked nothing like the girl he knew from Hogwarts. She looked peaceful and relaxed, not annoyed and angry - usually at him. Hell, no one who didn't know her and saw her like this would believe that she could be such a… shrew. That was Shakespeare, right? Like 'Hermione', as she had informed him in her lecturing manner in first year, when she had lost her temper just because he had said her name was old-fashioned. Well, he had added 'old-fashioned enough for a Slytherin', but still. She had completely overreacted to a harmless joke.

He blinked. He should wake her up instead of woolgathering. They had a long day ahead of them. He cleared his throat again, but she shifted in her sleep, kicking the blanket completely off with her… long, bare legs. He'd seen them before, but today, they looked, well… different.

He wet his lips. Granger looked very different. And with her lying on her back now, one arm under her pillow, the other draped over her bare belly, her chest slowly rising and falling, he could easily see that…

Blushing, he looked away, then clenched his teeth together. It wasn't his fault that Granger had decided to sleep almost in the nude. It wasn't that hot or humid, anyway. Not that she'd see it the same way, of course. She'd probably accuse him of trying to prank her, or peep on her, or something.

Damn it, he wouldn't deal with this. He walked back to the edge of the divider, cleared his throat for the third time and yelled: "Granger! Wake up!"

He heard her gasp, then saw her roll on her bed, waving her wand around, and ducked behind the divider. Not that she had a chance in hell of hitting him, anyway. "Are you awake now?" he yelled.

"That's a stupid question. Why did you yell like that?" she yelled back.

"To wake you up, duh!" he told her, rounding the corner again to look at her.

"And you couldn't have chosen a less disturbing method?" she shot back as she sat up in her bed. "You've managed before."

Damn. "I didn't feel like getting closer and letting you hex me in your sleep," he lied.

"I don't hex people in my sleep! Who do you think I am?"

"What about Parkinson?" he asked. That had been quite a memorable incident in third year. Pomfrey had spent an hour fixing the Slytherin. And Granger had been banned from the library for a week.

"She startled me; I wasn't asleep - I was expecting you."

He blinked. "Well, if it had been me, you wouldn't have hit me."

"Really?" She sniffed. "That's why you didn't want to walk up to my bed and wake me up like a normal person?"

"Anyone can get lucky," he replied.

She shook her head, then spent a few spells dealing with her hair. "Well, I'm awake now."

"See? It worked!" He grinned at her. "And I didn't have to cast a Water-Making Charm!"

She rolled her eyes. "That was a subtle clue that I would like some privacy so I can dress. I'll make a note to be more blunt in the future."

"More blunt?" He shook his head. Granger was already more blunt than any other girl he knew.

"I've always wanted to try out the Bludgeoning Curse." She flashed her teeth at him in a feral smile, then held out her wand, and her bra flew into her hand, followed by her shorts. And she kept looking at him as if she dared Harry to stay and watch.

Harry turned and stepped outside. She was such… whatever!

*****​

Hermione Granger was still annoyed when she finished casting cleaning charms on herself and her clothes and dressed. Her hormone-driven subconscious was still influencing her dreams! Although she had to admit that those dreams were preferable than nightmares about being literally eaten by a wyvern. Still, she hoped that her hormones would take a hint after seeing Potter this morning, and she'd start dreaming about Hugh Grant or another celebrity. Potter might be attractive, but he was a boy, not a man. How was she supposed to reach for the stars if she didn't even dream big?

She shook her head as she stepped out of their shelter, then casually restored her ponytail. "Good morning."

Potter, fully dressed and not showing off his bare chest, was sitting at the ashes left from their campfire. "Morning. Calmed down?"

She rolled her eyes. As if she hadn't been calm the whole time! She hadn't hexed him for yelling at her, had she? "Have you gotten it out of your system so we can tackle our next step without the distraction of pointless, puerile antics?"

He frowned at her. "You're complaining about distractions?"

"Yes." She tilted her head. "I certainly didn't distract you while I was asleep, did I?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, which was a rather curious reaction. Then he smirked. "Well, sometimes you make the cutest noises in your sleep." Then he blinked.

"The cutest noises?" She glared at him, even though she felt herself blushing. Had she talked in her sleep? While she had been dreaming? Oh, no! She felt her heart skip a beat. If Potter had heard her moaning his name, he would never let her forget it.

"I was being polite," he said. "You snore, actually."

Relief was quickly replaced by annoyance. "I already told you, I don't snore," she corrected him.

"Maybe you forgot to cast an anti-snoring charm."

"There is such a charm?" she blurted out before she could help herself. Then she frowned - she should have investigated that, instead of considering the matter settled after their testing revealed Lily Moon's cat as the culprit.

"Of course," Potter replied as if that should've been obvious. "It has saved more lives than any Healing Charm, or so Uncle Sirius likes to claim." He grinned at his own joke, then added: "Because people have an alternative to killing their snoring partner, you know?"

"I am perfectly able to understand the joke," she told him in a flat tone. "It's just not particularly funny, so I didn't feel the need to laugh." She smiled sweetly at him.

"It's considered polite to laugh at jokes." He matched her smile. "Where are your manners, Miss Granger?"

"They were left behind when you tackled me onto a Portkey," she told him.

He laughed in return. And it didn't look as if he was just being polite. Not that he would know how to be polite, anyway, in her opinion. "So… breakfast, then we go mountain climbing?"

"Climbing? We'll fly!" Potter, predictably, objected.

"Technically, we'll be using Levitation Charms," she pointed out. "That's not exactly flying."

"That's what brooms use. It's flying."

"Brooms use a number of spells to achieve flight. The levitation charm is merely one part of a complex pattern of charms." She knew she was being facetious, but anything to take down Potter's unholy love for flying and Quidditch down a peg or two.

"The Levitation Charm is the heart of any broom's enchantment. Without it, the whole thing wouldn't be anything more than a self-propelled plough you can ride. For a very short time, until you crash against the closest obstacle."

She narrowed her eyes at him. That sounded practised. "How often did you argue this?"

He blushed a little. "As often as needed to win the argument."

"It's still not flying," she told him with a scoff. "We learned the Levitation Charm in first year. If it counted as flying, flying without a broom wouldn't be held in such esteem in the lore."

He scoffed in return. "Flying without a broom is only for show. You're slower, less maneuverable, and you can't really do anything else while keeping yourself from falling to your death."

"That sounds like a good description of our first flying lesson."

He laughed again while she snorted. "Don't tell me you were scared, Granger."

"Scared?" She scoffed once more. "But I was quite aware of the risks."

"There were no risks. The pitch has Cushioning Charms cast on it, remember?" He grinned at her.

She returned the grin with more teeth. "That won't help you if Wood banishes you from it because he thinks forty hours a week aren't enough training."

"Oliver wouldn't have done that!" he protested. "Well, not to Gryffindors - he would never accidentally scare away potential recruits."

"And if they made it clear that they won't ever play Quidditch because they think it's a silly game?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

He actually looked shocked. "You told Oliver that?"

"Do I look suicidal?" she shot back.

"Do you want the honest or the polite answer?"

They both laughed at that.

*****​

After another coconut breakfast - Merlin's beard, what wouldn't Harry Potter give for a piece of toast! - they were finally ready to head for the hilltop. Though Granger insisted on walking towards the hill, first: "We can explore the area between the shelter and the foot of the hill that way."

"Alright. But we're not going to go back and forth," Harry told her.

For a moment, she looked as if she'd contest that. Then she nodded - though with that pouty frown of hers. Well, Harry was taking his victories where he could.

They set out - carrying another coconut in a sling made from a palm frond for lunch - and started to make their way through the jungle. Fortunately, the underbrush wasn't dense nearby, though the less dense the canopy above them became, the worse the underbrush got. By the time they reached the foot of the hill, they had to cut their way through some of the foliage.

"We wouldn't have had to do that if we had flown," Harry told her when they took a short rest under one of the last trees before the hillside.

"We'd be too exposed. And we would've levitated, not flown," she replied, whipping some sweat from her brow before following up with a Water-Making Spell.

He frowned. Did she have to play 'wet t-shirt competition' every time things got a little hot? "You'll damage the fabric," he told her when she cast a Drying Charm.

"That's why I always cast a Mending Charm at the end," she replied with a sniff. "Didn't your parents teach you how to use those charms?"

"Of course they did!" he replied. "But they also taught me not to cast spells for every little thing."

"Heatstroke isn't a little thing," she shot back.

"The Drying Charm must've countered any cooling effect you got from the Water-Making Charm," he retorted.

She glared at him, then cast a brief Water-Making Spell on herself that left her bushy hair soaked and plastered against her head, as if she had taken a shower but hadn't yet blow-dried it. Like out of some of the movies Harry had watched with Dudley. And she cast another Water-Making Spell to drink. Messily.

She must be doing this just to mess with him. But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of reacting. "Are you done?" he asked in the most bored tone he could use.

"Yes," she replied with a frown.

"Then let's levitate to the hilltop." He grinned and enlarged the small plank he had carried with him.

"Yes." After a moment, she asked: "Do you want to levitate us?"

"I think it's better if you do it," he replied. That had worked well when they had fled from the wyvern, hadn't it?

She nodded and cast a Levitation Charm on the plank before mounting it.

He climbed on it behind her, wrapping one arm around her belly. And frowned when her wet hair ended up between them, causing his shirt to soak up some water. Great.

Then Granger started flying up the slope.

"Keep us close to the ground," he told her. "Less exposure."

"As we talked about," she replied.

"Never hurts to make sure," he told her.

She didn't have an answer to that, but he felt her growing tense in return. She really didn't like not having the last word. It was almost cute.

No, it wasn't cute. It was annoying.

Harry kept an eye out as they slowly - for a flight - rose, following a creek with a small stream in it. That would hide them from sight, at least somewhat. There were even some small trees growing here - not quite a jungle. No palm trees, though.

And then they reached a small saddle before the top, and Granger put the plank down. Harry didn't have to ask why - he could see the cave ahead. And the claw marks around its entrance. "The wyvern's lair."

"Yes."

"We need to check if there are… young wyvern or something. Or eggs," he said.

She nodded. Very slowly. "I suppose so. I doubt there are any, though. We would've noticed them flying. So, it shouldn't be too dangerous."

She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. Well, Harry could use some convincing himself, if he was honest. If there were young wyverns inside, and if they had a similar resistance to spells as young dragons had…

But they had to know, or they would risk getting attacked by more monsters when they least expected it. "Let's go and check it out," he said.

As they approached - he was carrying the plank in his free hand - the wind turned a little - and Harry felt a foul stench fill his nostrils. "Ugh."

"That's… Do wyverns use secretions to mark their territory?" Granger asked.

"It's not rotting meat, at least," Harry said. He resisted making a quip about Granger not knowing everything. This wasn't the time. "We can ask Hagrid once we're back at Hogwarts."

"Then we'll have to tell him about the wyvern," she replied.

"Right." Lying about the wyvern would be bad. Not mentioning the whole thing… well, it wasn't quite as bad. Just a little white omission, if that was a word.

They reached the entrance, wands drawn and aimed. The stench was even stronger now. "Bubble-Head Charms," Harry said, already moving his wand.

"Yes."

*****​

Hermione Granger cast a Bubble-Head Charm, almost as fast as Potter, though he'd had a head start. Instantly, the stench - and she couldn't call the smell anything else - vanished. Mostly. She was sure her hair and clothes had already caught some of it and had to resist the urge to cast a Cleaning Charm on herself. It would be pointless with them about to enter the cave.

She took a deep breath and tried not to show how nervous she was. They were literally entering the lair of the beast. The lion's den. We've killed the monster, she told herself, which helped.

The chance that there was another monster hiding inside was slim but not zero. If wyvern reproduction had one half of the pair go out and hunt while the other stayed in the lair with the eggs or young… Not the first time she wished she'd read up on wyvern. If she died because of missing critical information…

"Let's go," Potter said.

She nodded and followed him into the cave. She felt bad for letting him go first, but not bad enough to make an issue out of it. It would be stupid and dangerous, anyway, to argue at the entrance of the cave - and she knew Potter would argue. He always did when she tried to keep him from endangering himself.

She shook her head and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. They had to investigate the cave. The lair. She cast a Wand-Lighting Charm after a few steps into the cave, just in case.

"Ugh," Potter muttered and stopped walking.

"What?" she whispered, taking a step to the side so they would have a better field of fire.

"Bones."

She glanced at the ground. There were bones, indeed. She moved her wand over the heap to see them more clearly. "Those are quite large," she commented, pointing at what looked like half of a femur.

"Human-sized," Potter said.

"Yes." And, though it was hard to tell, with most of the bones have been crushed or cracked, they could be human bones. Then again, she wasn't a biologist by any means. Another area she should've studied. "I don't see any skulls or skull fragments."

"They would've survived, right? Skulls are the hardest bones, aren't they?" Potter asked.

"Probably," she replied. She wasn't certain.

"Uh… if the bones are here, did the wyvern, ah, shit here?"

She grimaced. "I don't see any faecal matter." And she wasn't about to end her charm to smell the air to check. "It might just be a place where the wyvern stashed the remains after cracking the bones for the marrow, but then again, given the size difference, I doubt that it could've sucked out the marrow."

"But a smaller wyvern could've done it, couldn't it?"

Damn. "Yes," she whispered, clenching her teeth.

"Let's check the rest of the cave." Potter moved ahead again.

She followed him, keeping an eye on the ceiling and the walls. There were no stalactites, but there were enough nooks and crannies for something small to hide inside or behind.

But they reached the end of the cave without anything attacking them. And without Hermione casting spells at shadows - though she came close, once.

"More bones," Potter said. "A whole damn lot of them." Indeed, the ground was covered with bones - she couldn't see the stone beneath it in this part of the cave. Then she heard him gasp. "There's a skull."

She didn't have to ask if it was a human skull - she could see it at once. "This might be the witch whose arm we found," she said, kneeling down next to the skull.

Then she saw the other skull fragments.

"Or not," Potter commented.

She silently cursed again. "There are enough skulls and fragments for… multiple people. Amongst other bones." Which looked like… there was at least one dolphin's skull. Or perhaps it was a smaller whale. So, the wyvern had eaten mostly sea mammals. And probably fish as well.

"You don't want us to sift through the whole heap and puzzle them together, do you?"

She turned her head to glare at the boy. "Of course not!" Not here, at least. "But we'll take them with us." At least the bones that looked human. Mostly the skulls and skull fragments.

"Yes."

She started casting Shrinking Charms on the selected bones while Potter created another container from a summoned coconut. Neither of them spoke a word until they had left the cave.

Hermione took a deep breath. She hadn't dispelled her Bubble-Head Charm, but just being outside, feeling the sun on her skin, helped a lot.

"We should clean up before we drop the spells," Potter said next to her.

"Yes. But not here." The whole area smelt. Or stank. "Let's go this way." She pointed to the side. "We should get a good view of the east from there."

"Right."

They mounted their plank - Hermione wouldn't call it a broom just as they weren't really flying - and left the cave entrance. After a short distance, they found a small stream.

And a small waterfall.

Yes!

She stopped the plank and dismounted. "This is perfect!"

"Are you going to take a shower?"

She frowned at Potter. Why did he sound as if that was a bad thing?

*****​

A shower. In the middle of their... exploration trip. Harry Potter shook his head. "Did you forget how to cast a cleaning charm?"

"Of course not! But as you undoubtedly know - we've talked about this before, didn't we? - taking an actual shower just feels much better than merely casting a charm." She glared at him, then continued in a lower voice. "And I certainly need to feel clean after that cave."

And I don't need to see you taking a shower, Harry thought. His dreams were already weird enough. Not that he'd tell her that - she'd never let him forget it. She'd mock him for it. "Whatever," he said, "I'll keep an eye out while you go and get yourself feeling clean."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "This isn't a mocking matter! And it's not as if we're under a time constraint."

"We don't know that," he shot back.

"Then we shouldn't waste more time pointlessly arguing!" She huffed, sat down on a rock near the stream, and started to pull her shoes off.

Harry clenched his teeth and turned away, looking anywhere but at her. How typical of Granger! Scoffing, he started casting cleaning charms on himself. Unlike Granger, he didn't need to get wet to feel better… He blinked, then groaned. Merlin's Beard, what was his subconsciousness doing to him?

But at least he was clean. And he felt clean. He dispelled his Bubble-Head Charm and sniffed the air. Yes, he also smelt clean. "Oh, yes!"

He turned before he realised what he was doing and froze seeing Granger stepping out from under the small waterfall. She wasn't naked, but that didn't help much. She was staring straight at him, frozen as well, then huffed and continued walking towards her clothes. And he turned away.

Damn.

A few minutes later, he heard her walk towards him and turned around again. "Are you done?" he asked.

"No, I put my clothes on so I could take a second shower," she replied with an eye-roll.

He snorted. "I wouldn't put it past you - perhaps you won't feel as if you were wearing clean clothes until they've been properly washed as well."

"I consider it the same as dry cleaning," she shot back.

"Dry cleaning?" That sounded… weird.

"Cleaning clothes without using water as a solvent." She sounded like a professor.

"So, with magic?" He cocked his head and frowned at her.

Another eye-roll. "It's a muggle term, not a wizarding word. Usually, chemical solutions are used."

"So, it's not really dry, then," He grinned.

She rolled her eyes once more. "I said I consider it the same as dry cleaning, not that it was the same. Although the definition technically fits. But do you really want to waste more time literally arguing semantics here?"

"As long as you don't want to hop into every pond we find on the way, sure."

"Really, Potter," she said, "if I hadn't seen you swimming - and enjoying it - I would suspect you were afraid of water."

"There's a time and place for such things," he retorted. "And it's not in the middle of exploring a deserted island."

"I beg to differ."

"That's obvious." As were a few other things.

She shook her head. "Anyway, let's go on."

"I've been saying that for some time," he told her.

"You actually didn't say that."

"I implied it." He bared his teeth at her.

"Which isn't the same." She matched him.

He scoffed, annoyed at her and himself. "If we keep arguing semantics, we'll never get off this hill, much less the island."

"Then let's go."

"You just have to have the last word, do you?" So typically Granger.

"You wouldn't care about that if you didn't want to have the last word yourself."

He pressed his lips together, forced himself to smile, and gestured towards her.

Seeing her clench her teeth and glare at him lifted his mood.

Until he realised that if they mounted their makeshift broom again, he'd have to wrap his hands around her waist once more.

Damn.

*****​

Hermione Granger hated it when Potter got one over on her. But she couldn't reply to his insinuation that she wanted to have the last word without proving him correct. Which was very vexing. Almost as vexing as him silently staring at her when she stepped out from under the waterfall.

"Let's walk," Potter interrupted her thoughts. "We're less likely to miss something, and we'll be able to keep an eye out for threats.

And they would have to climb the hill, well, the last third or so. But complaining about that would make her look weak. So she nodded. "Good idea."

They went a bit more towards the east, to clear the small cliff forming the waterfall, then went straight up. Fortunately, they didn't have to literally climb - the slope here wasn't steep enough for that. But in the heat - it was now close to noon - it was exhausting. "Let's take a break. A short break," she said once they were halfway to the top.

"Alright." Potter nodded as if he didn't need a break himself - he was quite red in the face, and it wasn't sunburn since they had cast charms against that. A Water-Making Spell later, Hermione felt better. Except for her knees, which still felt as if she were ninety years old and had just gone up the Eiffel Tower on foot.

To distract herself, she said: "I wonder where the humans the wyvern killed came from. And if they all were kidnapped." That would be… disturbing. Very disturbing.

"Probably," Potter replied. "What are the odds they were shipwrecked?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment. "Possible, but unlikely. What are the odds that they were dragged here by a hidden Portkey?"

He cursed, which was answer enough. "If someone was feeding the wyvern..."

"...then they'll notice we didn't play along," she finished for him. As they had discussed before. "Let's go on."

They slowly and silently climbed to the top of the hill.

They were on an island, Hermione realised at once. Decently sized, but far from the coast - she couldn't see even a hint of a landmass or another island. Jungle covered most of the island, except for the beaches and the hill. And…

"There's a village!" Potter exclaimed.

She whirled. "Where?"

"There, half-hidden in that cove there, next to the rocky mini-peninsula."

She took a closer look at where he was pointing at. Then she drew a sharp breath. There was a settlement, yes. Buildings. And… "There's a ship," she realised.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 16: The Village Part 1

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 11th, 1996

Lily Potter almost dropped the book she was reading - or trying to read in an attempt to distract herself - when the doorbell rang. It was almost noon, but James would use the Floo network. As would most of their friends. That meant… Someone who didn't want their trip to be logged by the Floo Network Authority. Which officially didn't happen, though Lily knew it could easily happen if you knew how to circumvent the safeguards. Or had the authority to do so.

She drew her wand and approached the door. The wards hadn't been triggered, which was a good sign - anyone who managed to slip through the protections wouldn't need to stoop to cheap tricks like ringing the doorbell. On the other hand, that would be so obvious, people might try it anyway.

She peered at the small mirror that showed the outside. Sirius and Peter! She gasped. They were expected, although… She shook her head. Paranoia wouldn't help anyone, no matter what Moody thought.

She still kept her wand ready as she opened the door. "Sirius! Peter!"

"Lily! We return, not quite triumphant, but with results!" Sirius said, grinning.

"What the lout means is that we completed our mission," Peter explained with a frown aimed at Sirius's back.

"Yes, yes."

"Come in!" she told them. As soon as the door closed, she asked: "Did you find Cobblespun?"

"We found, captured and interrogated him!" Sirius announced. "He was clever, but not clever enough to fool my nose!"

Lily looked at Peter. She loved Sirius, if not as much as James did, but she didn't like his sense of theatrics. Most of the time, at least - he had his moments.

"He wasn't in the hotel; that was a decoy," Peter told her. "He was hiding in another building, but Padfoot found him, and we took him last night."

"We would've returned at once, but we encountered some trouble with the French," Sirius said. "Nothing serious, but it slightly delayed our departure from our neighbouring country's shores."

"They shouldn't have identified either of us, though they'll suspect us, of course," Peter explained. "We didn't hurt them, or anyone other than Cobblespun, so the French shouldn't be too angry."

"They can't prove anything anyway." Sirius grinned. "Two can play their silly games."

"You wouldn't consider it a silly game if they decided to send some 'deniable assets' after you," Peter commented.

"They can try," Sirius's grin widened. "But we have a Dumbledore, and they don't."

Not for the first time, Lily wanted to ask whether Sirius mangled famous quotes intentionally or just got lucky. But she wouldn't ask - if he was doing it intentionally, he would be waiting for such a reaction. And she had Harry to worry about. "So, where's Harry?" she asked.

Sirius sighed, and she pressed her lips together as her heart sank. "We don't actually know that," her friend said. "Cobblespun doesn't know, either."

"You've used Veritaserum?" They would have, of course. But she had to ask.

"We did. We thoroughly interrogated him. Which contributed to our troubles with the French," Peter said.

"We didn't want to do anything illegal on British soil, so we did it on French soil," Sirius said. "But the buggers must have had some way to track him."

"Or we made a mistake setting up the safe house; happens to the best of us," Peter said.

Of course, Peter would take the blame; their friend was much too hard on himself. Lily shook her head. "None of you were hurt, which is what's most important."

"And that we got Cobblespun," Sirius added. "He doesn't know where Harry is - but he knows where he got the Portkey from." He bared his teeth. "As we expected, Cobblespun hadn't inherited it - he stole it."

Lily had expected that indeed. But… "No one claimed to have lost it, though." And, given the coverage in the Prophet and the gossip in the Ministry, she was certain that almost everyone in Wizarding Britain had heard what had happened - and how it had happened."

"Of course they wouldn't have come forward - the Portkey was part of a pirate's estate." Sirius scoffed. "Can you imagine how embarrassing it is for an honourable pureblood family to have such a scoundrel in their family tree? Not embarrassing enough to get rid of the loot they brought home, of course! Abandoning gold, no matter how bloody? Perish the thought!"

"Which family is it?" Lily asked, clenching her teeth.

"The Averys. Slytherins to the core, of course."

Oh. Severus's friend.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 11th, 1996

"A ship?" Harry Potter, now mostly hidden behind a rock, took a closer look. Yes, there was something in the parts of the sea - the bay - he could see through. "A sailing ship?"

"It looks like a sailing ship," Granger agreed. "I can't make out any details, though." She looked at him as if he would do any better.

So he shrugged. "I can see a white sail, nothing more."

"So much for your 'Seeker eyes'."

He frowned at her. "That's not the same." He was an excellent Seeker, but he didn't have hawk eyes.

"And you don't know any charms that would allow you to make out things further away."

"Such charms would disqualify me in Quidditch:"

She gave him a look as if he had said something stupid, then turned to look at the settlement again. "If there hadn't been a ship, I would have expected the settlement to have been abandoned. Why else would they tolerate a wyvern hunting people?"

"The ship might have just arrived, to check up on the wyvern," he speculated.

She muttered a curse under her breath. "We can't let them see us until we've determined who they are and what intentions they have."

"Yes." That was obvious.

"But if they're here for the wyvern, they'll be searching the island for it - they'll check its lair," Granger went on. "They might find our traces!" She looked back at the other side of the hill. "

"Nothing we can do about it," he said. "And they'll suspect our presence anyway, once they find out that the wyvern's dead."

"Still… they might have wondered whether the wyvern was killed by a whale or something. But once they find our tracks, they'll know we did it." Granger shook her head. "This was a stupid mistake. I should've thought of this possibility!"

"I didn't think of it, either," he told her. It wouldn't help them if she beat herself up over this.

Instead of being grateful for his attempt to console her, she looked at him as if she had expected him to make such a mistake. "We can't change it any more - but we need to cover our tracks from now on."

"That'll make fishing and getting salt harder."

"More difficult but not impossible," she said. "But we need to find out who those people are. And what their intentions are."

"You mean, we need to find out whether or not they'll mean us harm."

"Yes." She let out her breath. "They might belong to a wizarding authority investigating the island."

He snorted. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"It would be too much of a coincidence," she admitted. "No, I think these people have a reason to hide the island."

"And not a good one - not for us." He nodded and pressed his lips together. "Getting close without being detected will be dangerous." And exhausting - they would have to travel through the jungle to keep hidden.

"Yes." She took a deep breath - he could see her chest heave. "But we don't have a choice. We need to know what we're facing if we want to escape from the island."

"Right." He nodded again. "They would probably spot a raft, even if there weren't spells alerting them - or stopping us."

"Can they do this?" she asked.

"They hid the entire island," he told her.

"But that could've been by… No. A Fidelius Charm would still affect us, wouldn't it?"

He frowned. "I don't know." He hadn't asked Mum and Dad about it - they didn't like talking about the war. "But Azkaban is covered with spells which prevent people from escaping the island even if they manage to escape their cells."

"But Azkaban is smaller than this island. By a lot. And we know the spells have an even bigger range since the wyvern hunted in the sea."

"You studied Azkaban? Afraid you'd end up there?" He forced himself to chuckle at his joke.

"So I wouldn't get lost visiting you in prison," she shot back.

"You'd come to visit me?"

"To taunt you, of course."

"I'm touched!"

They both chuckled - but not for long.

"So, back to the shelter?" he asked.

"Let's study the lay of the island a little longer. We need to plan how to proceed. Maybe make a crude map…" Granger squinted at the village, then looked at the rest of the island. "You wouldn't be able to conjure a pen, would you?"

"No. You can conjure parchment?"

"Yes."

"Makes sense. You would have bankrupted your family otherwise, with the length of your essays."

She snorted, but her expression wasn't amused. Not really. But before he could ask what was wrong - it had been a harmless joke, after all - she gasped. "I'm so stupid! Lead!"

"Lead? Oh. Lead!"

"Yes. It's not the most healthy method - not at all, actually - but I should be able to write and sketch with a piece of lead. We need some wood to transfigure into lead."

Harry raised his wand. "No problem."

*****​

Hermione Granger frowned at the parchment she had conjured. It was crude, rough, far from the quality of the parchment Hogwarts used. On the other hand, rough as it was, it might work better with a lead pencil. "I wish we'd learned a spell to create graphite," she muttered.

"Or ink," Potter commented.

"Yes. Although I guess either would lead to problems if someone dispelled it," she replied. Like a certain boy messing with her homework.

"That's an idea. You wouldn't need to use invisible ink then!" Potter grinned.

She glared at him. "Do you think it's funny to destroy hours of someone's work?"

He looked taken aback for a moment, then shrugged. "Not hours. But making someone rewrite their sappy letter home? That's funny."

"For you, maybe." She sniffed.

"You'd find it funny as well if you'd had to listen to someone compose the letter out loud," Potter retorted.

"I would tell them off long before I contemplated destroying their work," she shot back.

"And if they don't listen?"

"There's always the Silencing Charm," she replied.

"That's not exactly nice," he said.

"But better than ruining their work. I certainly would prefer to be temporarily rendered mute than to lose half my work."

He chuckled. "Really? I'd thought not being able to talk would be a fate worse than death for you."

She scoffed. "I can always dispel the charm, for one."

He laughed at that, and she joined in for a moment - she knew that she had a slight tendency to tell off people. Only those who deserved it, though. Mostly.

"Well, what about making them think they lost their work? Like with a Switching Spell? And see them freak out before you give them their letter back?"

She frowned for a moment. "That would actually be funny." Especially if done to the sort of people who made fun of her homework.

"Good idea, then!" He grinned.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Anyway, Let's cast Bubble-Head Charms." She did so right away.

"Bubble-Head Charms?"

"Yes. And cleaning charms afterwards. We don't want to inhale or ingest lead," she explained. After all, there was a reason unleaded petrol had replaced leaded one. The damage that stupid decision had done to people over decades...

He stared at the transfigured lead pencils in his hands. "Right."

She took one from him and handed him a sheet of parchment. "Let's sketch the island. We can compare and combine our work afterwards."

Sketching the island was more difficult than she had anticipated. She had to guess the angle of her field of view to estimate the distance from the hilltop to the village, and it wouldn't be very precise. On the other hand, the only really important part was the coastline - the jungle covered the rest of the island, and while the hill stuck out of the jungle, they had already explored it.

After fifteen minutes, she was done. Mostly. Neither an art teacher nor a cartographer would praise her work, but it should serve as some guide and help.

She glanced at Potter's attempt and frowned. And clenched her teeth. His sketch looked… much better than hers, as much as it pained her to admit it. Perhaps not as precise, she'd guess - she was more or less certain that she had the actual distances more correct - but his coastline looked better than hers. More detailed and recognisable.

And it also looked less like a primary school project.

"I think you've got the bay there wrong. And the cove is a little larger, isn't it?"

She forced herself not to glare at him. "We can compare notes once we're back in our shelter."

"What? It's better to compare our sketches here where we can easily check."

She swallowed her retort. Potter was right, damn it! "Alright," she managed to say without growling. "Let's take a look at the maps."

*****​

Granger couldn't draw to save her life, Harry Potter realised. Even his little sister had done better work before Hogwarts - and she was about as talented in drawing as she was in potions. But at least she had admitted it - even though it must have cost her half her tooth enamel. Now if only she would stop trying to correct his distances…

"This has to be larger - our angle of view means it only appears shorter," she told him for the third time.

"Fine," he said. "Then draw it."

She glared at him, took the third sheet of parchment from him, then quickly marked down a spot. "Draw the coastline to this spot!"

He glared at her, but it was obvious that she wouldn't budge. With a sigh, he completed the coastline there. "Happy?"

"Yes." She flashed her teeth at him. "Now let's get back to the shelter before it gets dark."

"Right."

Using the compass - or the navigational help, as Granger called it - they managed to find the shelter in a reasonable amount of time. However, they had to go to the beach, ultimately, to reorient themselves. And to get another fish, even though Granger worried far too much about being spotted while in the water. They didn't have the time to get some salt, but Harry managed to get a coconut full of saltwater.

An hour before sunset, they were in front of the bunker, going over the map while eating a few leftover pieces of grilled fish with the help of roughly-made toothpicks.

"The approach through the jungle would offer the best cover, but it's also the most obvious," Granger said, pointing at the edge of the jungle on the map.

"Never do what they expect," he told her. That had held true his whole life - being unpredictable didn't mean he never got caught, but it certainly helped a lot. "And this isn't a situation where doing the most obvious thing will be the last thing they expect - they'll have the jungle covered. If only to keep out predators."

"Like the wyvern."

"They must have charms to repel it." Not that they would be needed any more. "And they will probably have traps and worse around the village."

"But if we can't go through the jungle, that leaves the beach - or the sea. Neither offers much cover, if any at all," she objected before taking another piece of fish.

Harry pointed at the map. "We could approach from the sea and use the rocky ridge here as cover."

"Wouldn't that be too obvious?"

She was right. He frowned and looked at the map again, trying to picture the cove in his mind. "If they've covered all the rocks and both sides of the bay there, then we have to stay in the water - underwater!"

"Underwater?"

"Bubble-Head Charms," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "That wasn't what I meant. We won't see anything from underwater."

Well, they would be able to scout the seabed, but mentioning that wouldn't help their planning… unless… He grinned. "We'll be able to slip into the cove underwater, then stick our heads out and look around."

"And if they detect us?" Granger asked. "We'd be trapped in the water in the middle of the settlement - next to the ship. And what if they have protected the cove from the sea? With nets or similar means?"

That was a possibility, but… "We would spot the nets."

"Unless they are disillusioned."

"Now that's paranoid," he told her, then ate the last piece of grilled fish.

"They tolerated a huge man-eating wyvern," she retorted.

"We don't know that," he objected. "The ship could have arrived just recently, and the village could be abandoned. That's part of what we need to find out."

"And you think it's worth the risk."

"Yes." He was a Gryffindor, anyway. "And you can stay back and summon me if things go bad."

"Do you honestly think that would help us? If they are hostile and the village isn't abandoned, they would hunt us down in that case." She crossed her arms.

"It's better than getting captured right away." Or killed, but he didn't say that. He didn't have to.

"Any spot from which I could summon you would be even more exposed," she said.

"Well… I guess that means you either stay back here or come swimming with me." He grinned at her with far more confidence than he felt. She was right that this was dangerous - but they couldn't risk building a raft, or doing much of anything, until they knew more about the ship.

She clenched her teeth and scowled but nodded. "Yes."

"Great!"

*****​

This was reckless. Stupid. Far too dangerous. Hermione Granger should know better than this. She did know better than this. But she also knew that they couldn't just hide and hope to be saved. If the Ministry or Potter's family hadn't found them so far, odds were that they wouldn't find them, ever. That meant they needed to escape the island on their own - and they needed to know what the village was. Without more information, they couldn't plan their escape.

And so she had to join Potter on this foolhardy adventure. Great. "We'll have to give the shore a wide berth," she told him. "Just in case there are guards or spells on the rocks there."

"Can you swim that far?"

She scoffed. "Can you?"

"Of course!" he replied, though she couldn't help feeling he silently added 'how hard can it be?' to his claim.

Well, they would see about that. If things didn't work out, he wouldn't drown, at least, and she could summon him out of the water.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 12th, 1996

She really needed to step up her cardio, Hermione Granger thought as she stopped for another break - thinly disguised as a 'navigation check'. That Potter was in better shape than she was was unacceptable. Especially when it went beyond sitting on a broom and playing Quidditch. Wood had been obsessed about training indeed.

She recovered her breath - without being obvious about it - and cast the Four-Point Spell. Once her wand stopped pulling on her hand, she aligned the crude compass they had fashioned and consulted her - their - map. "We're more or less where we should be," she stated, glancing at the beach visible to their left. "That's the prominent rock on the map."

Potter peered at the map as well - he leaned in so close, he almost touched her, and he smelt quite nicely, she noted - before he nodded. "Halfway there," he commented.

"Only as the crow flies," she corrected him. "And we'll have to swim the last part."

"Yes." He snorted for some reason. "Let's go on."

"Yes." She stashed the compass in her shirt. In the jungle, their line of sight was too limited to navigate by picking a landmark, and they were following the coast anyway.

It really was just a cover for taking a break - of which Potter had to be aware. At least he wasn't rubbing it in.

She flicked her wand to wipe some sweat from her face, then cast a hairstyling charm to redo her ponytail. "I'll have to readjust once we're home," she muttered.

"What?" Potter, a few steps ahead, turned to look at her.

"I'll have to remember not to cast so many cleaning and hairstyling charms," she told him. "Once we're back home."

"Ah." He nodded, then frowned. "Why, though?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, of course." She bared her teeth at him. "As a muggleborn, I can't cast spells at home and have them 'mistaken' as cast by my parents'."

"Right." He nodded again. "But that's only for two more months, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said. "But that doesn't change how unfair it is."

"Well, kids showing off is a threat to the Statute."

"That goes for others as well. The Weasleys live in a muggle village."

"Not exactly in the village," he corrected her.

"Close enough to visit it," she said.

"And if they work magic there, it'll be recorded." He shrugged.

"But I can't even work magic at home without breaking the law! Unlike purebloods."

He shrugged. "It's also to protect you - well, probably not you, but other muggleborns. If they make a mistake with a spell, who's going to call St Mungo's?"

That was a good point. But it was still unfair. She said so and walked on.

He snorted and overtook her again. Which was also unfair.

An hour later, they were close to the cove according to their map and her calculations. Close enough to stop. "We're here," she said, pointing at the map."

"Right. Swimming time."

"Yes." After a short break. "We'll have to clear the peninsula there - if you can call it a peninsula." It was small, after all.

"Works for me," he said. "But we'll have to give it a wide berth."

"I know." They had talked about it before, hadn't they? She took a deep breath.

"We could wait a little longer," Potter said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We know what we want to do. And I can swim the distance. There and back." She swam more when she went to the pool over the holidays. "Can you make it?"

"Of course!" Potter told her.

She narrowed her eyes, but he didn't flinch.

Well, he better not be lying.

She nodded. "Let's go - we have cover here until the water." Rocks formed a little bay here - far smaller than the cover they needed to enter but sufficient to hide them from view from the village. And even from the air if they stuck close to the rock formation.

She stripped out of her top, shorts and shoes, then shrank them and put them in the makeshift pouch stuck on her hips. It wasn't watertight, but that didn't matter. The map, though, she hid by burying it in the sand - they could always summon it if they didn't find it again. But that would keep it dry. Then she cast a Bubble-Head Charm.

He did likewise. When he took the first steps towards the water, she stopped him. "Wait. Sunblock, please." They would be in the sun for some time, after all.

"Oh, right."

Two spells later, they quickly dashed over the sandy beach and threw themselves into the surf, then dived as deep as they managed.

*****​

Harry Potter took a deep breath when they finally hit the water and could dive. He had cast a Bubble-Head Charm, and he was sure he had cast it correctly, but still… some instincts you just couldn't shake. And one such instinct was to take a deep breath before diving. Even though it made it harder to dive.

Granger didn't seem to have any trouble, though - she was ahead of him; he could see her kicking her legs as she skimmed the surface of the seabed. Her hair had escaped her ponytail and was trailing behind like... well, he couldn't think of a good comparison, actually.

And he shouldn't be thinking of her hair, anyway. Or her legs. Or body. He had to focus on their goal. Which was to sneak into the cove and find out what ship was there - and what village. And he shouldn't let Granger lead the way. He was in better shape than she was, and he was faster with his wand.

Well, she was in shape, so to speak, especially seen from behind…

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself a little to swim faster, past Granger. He gave her a thumbs-up as he passed her, then blinked. They needed a better way to communicate. Perhaps… He pointed at his head, then at hers, then made a talking motion with his hand.

She frowned at him, then pointed at her ear.

Well, she must have realised what he meant. He swam to her and grabbed her head, then pulled her towards him until their two bubbles of air touched. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, obviously - if we can breathe air, we can also speak." She sounded a little stilted. He could smell her breath - she must have cast a charm that made it smell like mint. Or a tooth-cleaning charm scented like mint. Not a bad idea, actually - he was going to breathe his own air for a long time.

"Good. So we can talk to each other in a pinch - if we stick close." That might not always be possible, of course. "And we can use hand signs if we can't talk."

"Yes. We should've agreed on a few specific hand signs beforehand," she said.

"Well, up, down, back forward…" He shrugged. "What else do we need?"

"Danger?"

"I think our expressions will make that obvious. We aren't wearing diving masks and breathers, after all." He grinned.

"Right." She frowned, and his grin widened. "Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Then you can stop hugging me, and we can continue our dive."

Right. He was sort of hugging her, wasn't he? Well, they weren't touching, but he kept her head close to his. Which was a little… well, intimate. Or would be if it weren't Granger.

He released her and turned to swim along, parallel to the rocks on his right. They still had a way to go, after all. And the water wasn't cold, but not particularly warm, either.

It took them quite some time to round the rocky not-peninsula. Granger had kept up just fine, though - Harry had regularly checked if she was still behind him. That was what diving buddies did, or so Dudley had explained after his vacation to Greece. Though muggle diving was much more dangerous than using a Bubble-Head Charm, they were about to enter a potentially dangerous area. If those wizards on board the ship were hostile…

He froze. That was a shadow moving in the water, further out. He turned to Granger, then grimaced as soon as she made eye contact, pointed ahead and made swimming motions with his hands.

For a moment, she didn't look like she understood, but then, she swam towards him and looked in the same direction.

And he saw the shark swimming towards them. Bloody hell! Harry drew his wand out of his pants, cast a quick Shield Charm with it and then pointed it at the huge fish coming towards them. It was… almost as big as Harry was. Which was a lot bigger than it sounded.

Granger was at his side, with her wand out as well.

A stunner would probably take the shark out - but what if it made it float at the surface? That would draw attention. And if the wizards on the ship realised the shark had been cursed…

Granger had cast a Shield Charm as well, he noticed.

And then the shark reached them - and bumped into Harry's Shield Charm. Which bumped Harry back. It hadn't tried to bite him, though, he realised as he frantically kicked his legs to return to Granger. Who was bumped around as well when the shark circled around her and hit her with his tailfin.

She took a little longer to return, not that Harry blamed her. But the shark didn't bump into them again and didn't try to bite them. It circled them a few times, though, before finally swimming away.

"Probably just wanted to play," Harry muttered. Granger didn't react - of course not, she couldn't have heard him.

He looked at her, then pointed ahead, towards the cove.

She nodded.

*****​

Hermione Granger was still shivering a little when Potter signalled to continue towards the cove. Even though she had been protected by a Shield Charm - and a solid one - a shark slapping her around wasn't something to shrug off. And those teeth… Nothing on a wyvern, though.

Potter had shrugged it off easily, so she would do the same. Besides, they had killed a wyvern - a man-sized shark wasn't in the same league. Although she much preferred to fight on solid ground, not underwater. Or close to an unknown ship with a crew whose motives were equally unknown, but probably suspect given their location.

Potter was already ahead of her, so she sped up to catch up to him. She hadn't actually been scuba diving - yet - but she had read up on it enough to know that you had to stick with your diving partner so you could communicate and help each other. If they lost sight of each other, they would have a hell of a time trying to find each other again. Even summoning might not help - Potter's pants had looked very tight, but not very solid, and she knew her own underwear might not hold up as well as her jeans either, should Potter try to summon her with her clothes.

Another mistake - an oversight - she should've caught before diving. She could only hope Potter would realise it as well and wouldn't trust that she could summon him out of danger again.

She snorted. Hope? Trust, but verify. She overtook Potter - he wasn't as good a swimmer as she was, she noted - and grabbed his head to make their air bubbles overlap. "Potter."

"Yes?" He looked surprised.

"I'm just checking that you're aware that summoning each other has to be a last resort. Our current attire isn't as sturdy as our normal clothes," she told him.

He blinked, then glanced down. "Right. That would be embarrassing."

Very embarrassing. "And potentially fatal," she retorted. If he tried this on her for a lark, she'd… well, she wouldn't kill him. But he'd wish she would have.

"Well, yes, but we'd still try it if it was the only way to escape. Even a slim chance is better than none at all, right?"

"Of course. I said it was a last resort, didn't I?" she replied.

"Yeah."

"Also, we shouldn't be deep enough to worry about decompression when we resurface, but it would be safer to take a break of a few minutes when we're going up. Just to be safe." Hermione could be wrong, after all, and a mistake here could be fatal.

"Decompression?"

"The bends - divers can die if they return too quickly to the surface," she explained.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You didn't mention that when we were planning."

She suppressed a frown. Yes, she should have. "I didn't think we'd have to worry about it. Not so close to the shore. But better safe than sorry."

"Alright."

She nodded and released his shoulders, then pushed away with a kick of her legs, twisting to propel herself towards the cove. They were almost around the peninsular. Or mole - though it was a natural formation. A natural harbour - that would've attracted people in the past, hence the village.

Potter overtook her again, but she saw he was pushing himself to do so, so she slowed down a little. He might be in better shape than she was, but it wouldn't help anyone if he tired himself out trying to upstage her.

Then they entered the cove - she could see how they turned by the way the angle towards the sun shifted. She swallowed. If she squinted, she could already see the hull of the ship ahead - or a shadow where it would likely be. She swam forward, touching Potter's legs.

He stopped and turned. She closed the distance again. "We could swim to the shore," she said, "instead of to the ship."

"Too risky," he replied. "The crew will likely look at the shore, not straight down."

"They could look down." People did that, leaning on the railing, looking down at the water.

"Even odds then, but the ship provides better cover. And we don't know what the village looks like."

He sounded confident, so she nodded. Even though she had her doubts. But they would stick with the plan.

Potter took the lead again, and she easily followed him, staring up at the surface, hoping they were deep enough to avoid notice until they were directly under the ship.

The water was growing a little murky, she noticed, which would only help them. But was that the result of sediments being washed into the sea by a small stream or something else? They hadn't seen a stream from the hill, but a small one could be covered entirely by the tree canopy. And, historically, settlements were founded at rivers and other sources of freshwater, even though spells could compensate.

They reached the ship before she could make up her mind, and she felt relieved when they were shielded by the hull above them. Although… That wasn't a modern steel or carbon hull. That was a wooden hull, she noticed as she looked at the keel. And one which had attracted some fouling - she could see plants and some clams stuck to the planks forming the hull. Not too much, but still… No copper covering the hull, either.

Potter swam over to her and leaned in until their bubbles merged and their faces were almost touching each other. "It's pretty big. That's no yacht." He was whispering despite being underwater.

She agreed. "It's also old. Or old-fashioned." This wasn't the time to mention the Ship of Theseus. "Look at the rudder."

"So… An old sailing ship. Wizards, then."

"Likely," she said. "But we need to take a closer look to find out more."

He nodded. "Let's use the eastern side - we'll be in the shadows there when we surface."

Not much of a cover, but better than nothing. She pushed back, then took a deep breath and started to swim upwards, towards the surface. She stuck close to the hull, but not too close - she couldn't risk getting cut by clams or anything else stuck to the hull; the blood would attract sharks even if she healed it at once.

She hoped Potter was as careful.

Then she reached the surface and looked around. And gasped softly.

The village wasn't abandoned - she could see a dozen people, easily, walking around or working on something in front of the houses. And the houses… Mediterranean for sure. White or sandy colours, flat roofs with awnings… but those ornaments. Oriental.

Someone touched her arm, and she almost gasped again. Potter!

He pointed up. She tilted her head back, and her eyes widened.

Those were cannons sticking out of the rump there. Old cannons - those had gone out of style a hundred and fifty years ago! For a moment, she wondered if they had been thrown back in time somehow, before she noticed the very modern-looking anchor array.

Still… who would use cannons in this day and age? And old ones? Reenactors? But they wouldn't have used a modern anchor. She squinted her eyes. Those barrels, what she could see of them, were covered in... runes? What kind of wizard would use a cannon when a blasting curse would do as well or better?

"Pirates," Potter whispered next to her ear. "Barbary Coast pirates."

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 17: The Village Part 2

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 12th, 1996

"There are no records in the Ministry about any Avery having engaged in piracy." James Potter sighed and sank into his favourite seat in the living room. Not that there would be any records after a few centuries - enough gold would see embarrassing files vanished. "Also, as we expected, the theft was never reported to the Ministry." And he had been diligent in his search.

"Of course not. Imagine the scandal if it were revealed that a distinguished pureblood family owed their fortune to a pirate's estate," Sirius said, grinning. "Even worse - to a famous muggle pirate's estate! Well, what was left of it. Henry Avery made a fortune as a pirate shortly after the Statute of Secrecy went into effect and then disappeared. Despite a huge bounty on his head, he was never caught. And neither was his treasure found."

"You've done your research, I see," James said. Which was a surprise.

Remus snorted. "If you can call walking into a muggle bookshop and asking for 'books about the pirate Avery' 'doing research'."

Sirius frowned - pouted - at them. "Hey! I got results. And as Peter will confirm, results are all that matters."

James glanced at Peter, who nodded in his usual, quiet manner. "It fits. They must have hidden the pirate."

"Hidden the body, I would say. You know the Averys." Sirius scoffed. "They wouldn't have let him live a moment longer than what was needed to get all the gold he took from the Mughal Empire's ships. No loose ends to tarnish the family's already less than perfect reputation, either." He shrugged in that nonchalant manner of his that James had never mastered. It was probably a Black thing. "My family would've done the same, of course - but our fortune was earned by wizards, not muggles."

"The question is," Lily reminded them, "not how they made their fortune, but how we can get them to tell us where the Portkey led to."

"We could try blackmail," Sirius suggested. "I doubt they would risk attacking us."

"But they could tell on us," Remus pointed out. "Trying to blackmail an Old Family wouldn't look good, either."

"We could claim that we were merely trying to be discreet for their own sake," James said. That was done far too often for real, anyway.

"Would they do it? Would they refuse to help us find Harry?" Lily asked. "Wouldn't that see them crucified by the Prophet?"

"The Prophet's been covering the kidnapping extensively," Remus said. "And everyone knows Dumbledore is helping us. The Averys would face some backlash if they didn't help us."

"They could claim they have no idea," Peter pointed out. "And if we present proof, our operation in France will be revealed - officially revealed, that is. And that will cause trouble for the Ministry and Dumbledore."

Trouble they couldn't afford with Harry missing.

"They could easily avoid any trouble by coming forward, blaming everything on the Death Eaters in the family, and earning favours by helping us," Sirius said. "After three hundred years, most of my esteemed peers in the Wizengamot wouldn't care overly much about some muggle pirate - especially if they got him killed to keep their name clear. Many would think this was sort of like taking care of a squib, actually."

James clenched his teeth. He didn't like where this was going. "They haven't contacted us. And they must have recognised the stolen loot - the Prophet might not have listed it, but the Wizengamot got everything."

Lily spoke up: "They might not have known. If this was stolen from a Death Eater - or another family member who got killed in the war - then the current family might not have been aware of it."

Sirius snorted. "They would've been aware of it. If a low-life like Cobblespun could steal it, then it wasn't hidden from the family. At least not the core members, so to speak. Especially during the war, they wouldn't have risked losing crucial knowledge through death."

James cleared his throat. "So, that means they have more to hide than an embarrassing muggle family member."

"Yes," Sirius said. "Cynthia Avery isn't the brightest witch in Britain, but she's smart enough to see the opportunity here. If she didn't take it, it means revealing the origin of the Portkey would reveal more secrets they don't want to be revealed."

James sighed. "That means asking them wouldn't help."

"No." Sirius shook his head.

"Sorry." Peter shrugged.

"I don't think so," Remus agreed.

"And if we kidnap one of them and interrogate them, they'd know we were behind it," James said. And that sort of action wouldn't be tolerated by the Wizengamot. No family would want to risk such a thing happening to them.

Lily took a deep breath. "Then I think there's one option left."

James clenched his teeth together. He hated this. Really hated this.

"I'll have to ask Severus to help us."

*****​

Unknown Island, July 12th, 1996

Harry Potter was certain: Those people had to be Barbary Coast pirates. Everything fit: The ship, the houses and the people.

Granger, though, didn't seem to share his opinion. "We're in the tropics," she whispered. "Quite far from the Barbary Coast. Morocco would be closest, but that's still over a thousand miles from here."

"Yeah?" He scoffed - softly; he couldn't risk anyone overhearing them. "Someone forgot to tell them that."

She scoffed in return. "You can't just assume that people are pirates just because they conform to stereotypes."

"Well, they've got a ship armed with runic cannons, they have a magically hidden port, and they apparently kidnap people. In France." The conclusion was clear as day!

"We need more information to determine if they are actually pirates. They might be descendants of pirates," Granger argued.

"We can't swim closer," he whispered. "The risk's too high." Pirates would be alert - and would be quite experienced in fighting. Probably. In any case, they couldn't risk being seen. Not unless they were certain that the villagers weren't pirates. He hoped Granger didn't have a romanticised view of pirates - Harry had no illusions that those people would help two shipwrecked teenagers. The best they could hope for would be ransomed back to Britain. The worst...

He clenched his teeth and studied the waterfront and the rest of the small village again. He couldn't see many nets being worked on, nor many boats that might serve fishermen - and those he could see were very securely tied up.

"It doesn't look like a fishing village. And it isn't a trade port," Granger whispered.

Of course not - you didn't hide trade ports. And… He narrowed his eyes. "See the building there at the end of the waterfront?"

"Barred windows," Granger replied. "That would be a hugely oversized prison for such a small village."

"Yes." The island might serve or have served as a prison island, of course, though that was unlikely. In light of the dead witch's last message, another conclusion was much more likely: This island had served as a slaver base. And might still be in use.

"Damn!" he heard Granger hiss - she must have come to the same conclusion. Finally!

"Well, we won't find out anything else by staying here," he whispered. "Let's swim back and return to our shelter." Before they were spotted and hunted down.

"Yes."

They slowly sank down, below the ship's keel, before swimming towards the open sea again. Granger was holding up better than he had expected - she could swim, at least, even if she sucked on a broom.

They didn't encounter any sharks on the way around the peninsula, either. Harry was very grateful for that. A Shield Charm would repel a shark, but it was still unnerving to see such a huge fish trying to nibble on you - and if the shark managed to push one of them to the surface...

But nothing happened, and they reached the beach from which they had started without trouble. He held up his hand, though, to stop Granger from rushing out of the water. He wanted to take a look first. Though he couldn't see anyone waiting in ambush. "Did you cast your Human-presence-revealing Charm?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Let's rush to the treeline. Yell if you spot anyone."

"Of course."

He went in first, dashing out of the water, then sprinting over the beach. As soon as he reached the trees, he ducked behind one, let Granger pass him, then conjured a breeze to wipe out their tracks. At least those in the sand - the ones underwater would have to be wiped by the waves.

Granger didn't comment, for a change - she was recovering their map.

"Wipe out all of our tracks, as well as you can," he told her.

"I wasn't planning to leave an arrow pointing at our shelter," she shot back.

"Better safe than sorry," he quoted her own words back at her.

Judging by her glare, she still didn't like that. But that was a good thing. As long as she was annoyed, she wasn't panicking.

Then she pulled her shrunken clothes out of her makeshift pouch and started drying them. But that would take a while. And Harry really didn't want to stay so close to the pirates.

"We could fly back and dry them at the shelter," he suggested.

She frowned at him. "Travel through the jungle in our underwear?"

Harry felt himself blushing. He hadn't thought of that. "Never mind." He pulled his own clothes out.

And tried not to look at her as he dried his shrunken clothes and his pants.

*****​

Hermione Granger felt relieved when they finally reached their shelter - but she couldn't help worrying. Before, the threat of discovery had been theoretical. Even after spotting the village from the hill, she hadn't really thought that they were in danger. Intellectually, yes, but emotionally, no.

But now… She sighed and sat down on 'her' bench at their table. A couch would've been great right now.

"So…" Potter sat down on the bench across the table. "We're on a pirate island."

"Or on a former pirate or slaver island," she corrected him.

"You don't believe that, do you?" He leaned forward, both elbows on the table.

She gritted her teeth. "We can't discount the possibility, but we can't afford to be too optimistic."

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Potter said, smirking. Only briefly, though.

She suppressed a huff. "Assuming that this is a pirate village, why didn't they get rid of the wyvern? If we managed to kill it, a group of pirates certainly would've managed."

"They didn't want to get rid of it," Potter said at once. "Cover their village - and, perhaps, the area around it - with some wyvern repelling charms or something like it and leave wyvern to patrol the rest of the island."

But any invaders ready to attack a pirate ship or village wouldn't have trouble with a… "You mean they wanted it to hunt down fugitives?" She felt sick in her stomach.

"Perhaps they used it to scare any captives so they wouldn't try to escape." Potter shrugged. "They could've pointed at it when it was flying around."

She pressed her lips together and took a hissing breath. "Then we're in trouble. Deeper trouble, I mean. They will notice that the wyvern isn't flying around any more."

"We'll have to hope that they won't notice right away and that they won't want to check out its lair." Potter bit into a slice of coconut meat. "Even with a Disillusionment Charm and proper brooms, it would be dangerous to disturb the wyvern in its lair if it's just feeling ill for a bit."

She nodded. "But we can't count on such a delay lasting forever. Sooner or later, they'll realise someone's on the island."

"We've buried the wyvern's carcass. They might think it attacked the wrong sea monster and was killed at sea."

She pursed her lips. "Do you think we'll be so lucky?"

He grimaced. "No. We'll have to plan according to the worst case."

"Active pirates and slavers," she summed up.

"Not that there's much of a difference between the two, at least where Barbary Coast pirates are concerned. Dad told me about them." He sighed.

"I've read about them in History of Magic," she told him.

"We didn't cover them," he said, frowning. Then he snorted. "You've read ahead, of course."

"They were mentioned when we were learning about the early Ottoman Empire," she corrected him.

"Ah." He shrugged. "In any case, they're still active. Not as much as before Grindelwald's War…"

"Dumbledore's Intervention afterwards, you mean," she corrected him. "Dumbledore and his allies from the war forced the Ottomans to abandon slave raids and the slave trade - which flourished during Grindelwald's War with most of the European forces involved in the war."

He frowned at her for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, the raids are still going on, just not as frequently any more, and, officially, they're the work of 'criminals' - unsanctioned pirates. But it's an open secret that the Ottomans don't really try to shut down the pirates."

She snorted. Typical. But her stomach felt like it was dropping. Barbary Coast pirates. She'd read the book. She remembered what they did before the war. "They didn't change at all, did they?" She hadn't read any articles about them in the Prophet, but she had only a sample size of five years, and Britain wasn't a target for the pirates.

Potter blinked, seemingly confused for a moment. Then he looked grim. "They cut down on the raids, but…" He sighed again. "They're still kidnapping people. Wizards and witches. For ransom or for the Janissaries. Or the harems."

He was glancing at her without directly looking at her, she noticed. "Harems are merely the women's quarters in an Ottoman household. Not what the fantasies of the Orientalists made them out to be," she said.

Was he blushing? In the dim light inside the shelter - none of them had lit their wand - it was hard to tell. "Women's quarters or whatever, kidnapped witches often end up enslaved in those. Dad and Mum were very clear about that when they told Rose and me. And the Beauxbatons students last year confirmed it."

She hadn't asked their visitors about that. An oversight, in hindsight. So, that disgusting practice hadn't changed, either. Witches, deprived of their wands to make them easier to control, kept as status symbols for the rich and powerful… She shook her head. She didn't want to think about that. "As far as I know, only children get sent to the Janissaries." Children young enough to be raised as loyal slaves trusted with wands to fight for the Sultan.

"Yes. Some Ottomans keep enslaved wizards and witches to work for them, but it takes a lot of effort to keep them under control and let them use wands," Potter explained. "That cuts into profits."

She clenched her teeth, then forced herself to relax. She didn't want to ask, but she had to know. "So… did your parents also explain to you what we can expect, should we get kidnapped?"

He winced. "Probably a ransom for me. Dad's prominent and well-off."

And her parents were neither. She pressed her lips together.

"So, we can't get caught," he told her.

She looked at him. He would probably get ransomed, wouldn't he? But he met her eyes with a determined expression.

Hermione nodded and felt a little better.

*****​

Harry Potter saw that Granger was apparently impressed by his declaration. She was smiling weakly at him. And he clenched his teeth, suddenly guilty. It wasn't as if he was lying, but… "Also, if we get caught, and they find out who I am..."

"Which is needed so you can get ransomed," she interrupted him.

He frowned. "Yes. But if they find out who I am, they might decide to make us disappear instead, to prevent Dumbledore from finding out about them and coming after them."

"Oh." For a moment, she looked very vulnerable: Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, not moving. Then she pursed her lips. "That only means we won't have anything to lose."

Great. Granger was overreacting again. "I said there's a chance that they might kill us and vanish the bodies. They might ransom us back instead. Claim they saved us."

"And obliviate us?"

He nodded. "Only way that would work." And they would be wondering for a long time about what kind of memories they had lost. What had happened to them. What had been done to them. He ground his teeth.

"Would Dumbledore be deceived by such a transparent lie?" Granger asked,

"I doubt it. But he probably wouldn't want to start a war or another Intervention over it - if we're returned safely and unharmed." Harry's parents had told him that the Headmaster loathed war and killing.

"That would mean these slavers would escape justice." Granger shook her head, baring her teeth.

"Are you convinced of their guilt already?" he asked. "You wanted more proof, didn't you?"

She pressed her lips together and glared at him. "I said we should plan for the worst case."

"Write our last will?"

She actually chuckled at his dark humour. "Yes. So, if anything happens, others might find out afterwards. It would give our families closure. And we might get justice posthumously."

"I'd rather escape and forego justice - if I had to choose," Harry told her.

"Let's hope we won't have to choose," she replied. "We owe the dead French witch. Without her warning, we might have stumbled into the pirates - the possible pirates. And they might've been able to fool us if they're pirates."

Harry wasn't sure if he shared Granger's views - they wouldn't have simply walked into the village, would they?- but he nodded anyway. After a moment of looking at each other, Harry sighed. "So, what do we do? I wanted to build a raft to leave the island, get out of the range of whatever spell blocks Patronus Messengers and let my parents find me."

"Or get to the west coast of Africa and call home," she added.

"Yes." But that was a very long shot. They didn't know how far they were from the west coast. Granger had measured the shadows but hadn't been able to determine their latitude more precisely than 'definitely the tropics'. "But now… They must have protections in place that keep ships from finding them - or escaping."

"Any spell able to keep a ship out won't have any trouble with a raft," she agreed. "We'd bounce off like…"

"...like a fly on a Shield Charm in a Wronski Feint?"

She huffed. "Not everything's about Quidditch, Potter."

He frowned in return. "You know, we've saved each other's life a few times now."

"Yes?"

"Shouldn't we be on a first-name basis?" He tilted his head a little. "I mean…" He trailed off with a shrug.

She pondered the question for a moment - her eyes lost focus, and she relaxed a little. "Do you want to?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

He shrugged again. "Do you?" How should he know? It just felt a little… weird to call her Granger. And hear her call him Potter as if she were a stranger.

She stared at him without saying anything for a few moments longer. "Answering a question with another question? That's usually the refuge of those who can't or won't answer the first question."

"Really?" He glared at her,

"Yes." She bared her teeth again.

She had him there. Not that he'd admit it - he'd show her! "Yes, I want to… Hermione." He almost spat the name out.

"Alright… Harry!" She replied with a sneer that would've made Malfoy feel jealous.

Once more, they stared silently at each other until he snorted, followed by her.

"So, what do we do now? If we can't build a raft?" Granger asked. "Levitating a plank as a makeshift broom won't work either."

He nodded. "They've got a ship, so they're able to leave the island. We need to find out how they do it - or we need to stow away."

*****​

"Stow away?" Hermione Granger shook her head in disbelief. "You want to sneak on their ship and hide, even though we don't have any idea about her layout or the defences the pirates will have cast?"

Potter pouted. "We would observe them beforehand and find out."

"And we could easily avoid getting caught while we snoop around, I suppose," she commented with as much sarcasm as she could manage.

"Obviously, we have to be very careful." His frown deepened. "Do you have a better idea?"

She bit her lower lip. That was a transparent ploy. "At the very least, we need more information before we make any plan." She cocked her head to the side. "I'll remind you that we didn't manage to kill the wyvern with our first attempt - and, assuming that we are facing pirates, we are unlikely to get a second attempt to fool them if we fail our first."

"That's why I said we need to find out how they defend the ship and their village - and the island." Potter shook his head. "But unless you've been taking lessons from a Curse-Breaker on the side, I don't think we have many chances to defeat the island's protections and escape on our own."

"We don't know what kind of protections they have - other than the fact that it's magically hidden," she countered.

"We know that it's warded even against Patronus Messengers and Dumbledore's best spells," he pointed out. "And we know that a kidnapped witch couldn't escape even though she had her wand. That means apparition must be blocked as well."

He was correct. "Portkeys work, but that won't help us," she added, for completion's sake. "Though there might be a fireplace connected to a Floo Network in the village."

"I doubt they would leave such a weakness when they went to such lengths to hide the village," he retorted.

She shook her head. "You never know - laziness and desire for convenience are amongst the biggest weaknesses of humans everywhere." Muggles and wizards alike.

He frowned for a moment. "We can't rely on our enemies making such a mistake, though. And we wouldn't know the names of any connected places, either."

"Yes. I think our best bet remains to escape by water - according to what we know so far," she amended.

"And stowing away seems to be better than testing the defences of the island on a raft," he said.

"We don't know that yet. They might rely on defences that we can deal with. If they used the wyvern as a deterrent against escape attempts, then they might trust other magical creatures to stop unauthorised travel." Hermione grabbed a slice of coconut without thinking. Ugh. She was fed up with coconut. But to put it back or vanish would make her look weak or spoiled, so she forced herself to eat it.

"Creatures which are likely more dangerous than a wyvern." Potter shook his head.

"That depends on their capability. Water-bound creatures could be foiled by levitation, for example," she pointed out.

"And how would we test for that? Send a raft out and see what happens?" He shook his head. "We would alert them to our presence that way. Even if we had a second raft ready, we would have trouble escaping."

She had to agree - she had seen the cannons, after all. And no raft would be faster than an enchanted sailing ship. "That still leaves us with the need to find a way to safely gather information about the village and the ship."

"Well, obviously, we can enter the village from the sea - we did that. It would be weird if they warded the landside but didn't do anything to secure the shore," Potter explained.

"Unless the spells go back to a time where few people could swim," Hermione told him. "They might predate the Bubble-Head Charm."

"They would've adjusted the defences since then." Potter shook his head. "But we don't have to risk sneaking through the jungle if we can use the sea. Which we can."

Great. Another underwater trip. "And if we're in the harbour, what then?" She looked straight at him. "We need a way to hide from detection." And that was quite difficult - especially since neither Hermione nor Potter could cast a Disillusionment Charm.

"Well, if we sneak in during the night, we should be able to reach the shore without being detected," Potter said.

"And we won't be able to see much, either," she pointed out.

"That's why we need to find a hideout in the village where we can stay during the day." He grinned.

She stared at him. That was… dangerous. Foolhardy. Very difficult. But it might be their best chance to spy on the village. Not that that meant much.

But it was something. And that was better than waiting until the pirates - if they were pirates, she reminded herself - discovered that the wyvern was missing and started a manhunt.

"Alright," she said, almost against her will.

*****​

Granger - Hermione, he reminded himself - had agreed with his plan! Yes! Harry Potter grinned.

"And how will we find a hideout without exposing ourselves?" she asked.

"Ah." His grin didn't falter. Sirius had taught him that being confident was half the success.. "We'll sneak in at night and look for one."

"And if we don't find one?"

"Then we sneak out again and try again the next night." That was obvious, wasn't it?

"We don't know spells to see in the darkness," she said. "It'll be very difficult to find a suitable hideout like that - we might find out that what we thought was the perfect spot is rather exposed come morning."

He frowned for a moment. "That's why we'll have to be very careful."

"We'll have to be very quiet as well. That will hamper communication," she went on.

His frown deepened. Why did she agree with his plan only to keep trying to prove it wasn't feasible. "Nothing we can't work around," he said. "If we arrive after midnight, most of the pirates should be asleep."

"They'll have guards up. At least on the ship. And at the prison, if they have captives," she pointed out.

"Yes, but they won't see us." He smiled. "We'll stay away from there. And I know how to avoid their guards - we'll shrink ourselves!"

Granger blinked before her eyes widened. "You want to shrink us?"

"Exactly. Like we shrunk the tree trunks for our trap." The pirates wouldn't be ready for that, he was sure.

"That's dangerous! Almost as dangerous as self-transfiguration," she snapped. "If you don't cast the spell perfectly, you might leave your wand or clothes behind."

"We can watch out for each other," he told her. "If one of us makes a mistake, the other can dispel the charm." Not that he would make a mistake.

"Even if that works out, we would have to stay shrunk for an entire day," she said. "What if we get attacked by animals?"

"We can deal with animals," he said. They couldn't work magic, after all.

She didn't seem to believe him. "Relative to us, a cat would be as big as the wyvern."

"But it wouldn't be as hard to curse as the wyvern was," he pointed out. "And it can't fly."

"Birds of prey can fly, though. Owls could hunt us. And depending on where we hide, we might have to deal with snakes and vermin," Granger said. "Giant snakes. And who knows if the pirates have some magical animals around to deal with vermin - or if they are prepared for their victims trying to escape by shrinking themselves?"

He pressed his lips together. No plan was without any risk, and they were already in danger anyway. "We can create a safe hideout here - like a miniature shelter - and take it with us, then hide in there. A coconut, stuck to a roof, would be pretty safe from any vermin."

She frowned. "That might work - though anyone spotting it will probably try to pick it up."

"It shouldn't be too hard to find a hiding spot for a coconut," he said, grinning again.

"Unless they have spells that deal with shrunken people. If we can think of it, others can. If they have some variant of an early anti-vermin spell that targets any animal below a certain size…"

He couldn't help wincing. Anti-vermin charms were usually very specific, so any pets were exempt. But few wizards had pets as small as they would be. And Uncle Peter had told him stories about having to deal with Anti-Vermin Charms that targeted rats.

Granger wasn't finished. "I think we have to assume that the ship will be protected against such an intrusion. Historically, rats were a big problem for sailing ships, so they'll have spells warding the ship against rats. Probably insects as well."

"But if they ward the ship against all small life forms, they won't be able to fish," he objected. And sailors would want to fish.

"Unless they have a spell that stuns or kills vermin. That wouldn't impede fishing at all," Granger said.

That was true, of course. Still… "How likely would that be?"

"Likely enough so we can't risk it." Granger stared at him.

"Not without testing for it." He grinned. "You can conjure your birds. See if they make it."

She slowly nodded. "That might work. They might still have spells specifically against shrunken people, but…"

"...they won't have them set to kill an intruder, I think," he said, smiling. "That would kill a valuable hostage. And if one of us is stunned, the other can revive them."

"If our assumptions are correct." She was looking rather dour, he noticed. "They did let the wyvern eat at least one fugitive, after all."

"Yes." Harry managed to avoid wincing at the reminder. "We'll have to test for such spells first thing once we're in the port again."

She nodded.

*****​

Another trip to the pirate port - the potential pirate port, Hermione Granger reminded herself. This could still turn out to be a simple mistake. A former pirate base, the spells that kept it hidden still going on, a former pirate ship used for trade - there was no need to change any spells on it or remove the cannons, not with Extension Charms enlarging the hold - and the community too small and too traditional to deal with the wyvern… She suppressed a sigh. Yeah, right. It wasn't very likely. Not at all.

She sighed. "So, if we plan to shrink ourselves" - she suppressed a shudder at the thought - "then we better ensure that we can do that before we sneak into the village."

"Ah, right." Potter looked a little less confident, she noted. He looked like he usually did when McGonagall announced that they would have to write a longer than usual essay.

She looked at him. "How skilled are you at reversing Transfigurations?"

"McGonagall didn't find any fault during my exams," Potter said. "And I'm pretty sure I did well in my O.W.L.s."

"So you didn't receive any special training." Hermione pursed her lips. She had hoped Potter would have had more experience undoing various hexes and jinxes.

"No."

"We've never learned how to reverse miscast Shrinking Charms," she pointed out.

"We've learned the basic principles," he retorted.

"I think we both know that that's not enough." She shook her head. If they managed to partially shrink a body part… She shuddered at the possible consequences.

"It has to be good enough," he told her. "What are the alternatives?"

"To reversing a Transfiguration mishap? Or to shrinking us to observe the village?" She cocked her head.

"The latter," he replied. "As to the former, we just have to be extra-careful when casting."

"We could take some driftwood and create a sort of… floating observation post," she suggested. "It would hide our heads while we're in the water, observing the village."

"We wouldn't be able to get close enough to observe them in detail," he retorted. "We have to be in the village to find out how they run things. And what they do."

"Before we risk shrinking ourselves, we could sneak into the village at night to see what we can find out."

"You think that's less dangerous?" He stared at her.

"Compared to shrinking your head by mistake? Or your legs? Yes." She nodded firmly. "We will check their defences tomorrow night. See if they repel small animals, for one." She could conjure a flock of birds for that.

"And we can check if the prison holds anyone," Potter said.

"Yes." She nodded again. If there were captives, and they could get them wands - they had a spare wand already, didn't they? - then that would change the entire situation.

Potter snorted. "You know, I'd have thought you'd consider this far more reckless than shrinking us."

She sniffed in return. "I've had to rely on Matron Pomfrey far too often to trust my own skills at undoing a miscast spell." And most of that had been his fault.

He had the grace to blush. A little. Then he stared at her. "Really? And you didn't make an effort to change that?"

"I studied counter-curses to common hexes and jinxes, mostly." And some actual curses.

"I guess I should've used more Transfiguration in our spats."

Spats. She pressed her lips together, then smirked. "I would've retaliated with similar means."

"Ah." He looked a little queasy, for some reason. Perhaps he finally realised the true dangers of shrinking yourself. "Well, we can still train the Shrinking Charm tomorrow, on your conjured birds, for example."

"And attempt to deliberately miscast it?"

"Exactly!" His usually cocky grin reappeared. "Just in case we need to hide in the village anyway."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. And it wasn't as if they had much else to do tomorrow. "Then we should go to sleep early," she said. "We'll have to be well-rested tomorrow, so we need to sleep longer than usual."

"Right."

They looked at each other for a moment, and she felt herself wetting her lips. "Good night," she said.

"Ah, right. I've got the first watch. Good night."

*****​

Unknown Island, July 13th, 1996

Hermione Granger yawned. It was… well, it wasn't too early. The sun had gone up a few hours ago. But Potter - Harry, she reminded herself - had needed more sleep. Otherwise, he'd be too tired to be careful later today. When they would be sneaking into the pirate village. And he was barely cautious enough when he wasn't tired.

She stood and stretched, then walked over to wake up Potter. He was sprawled on his bed, only wearing his pants. He must have kicked his blanket - well, his robe turned half-blanket - off. Sleeping like that, he looked almost… well, he was attractive. Aesthetically, at least. No baby fat left in his face and not much on the rest of his body. He wasn't overly muscular like some of those bodybuilders in the action movies, but still nicely toned. A hint of abs, defined biceps and his legs… Well, he had to have muscles to fight all the g-forces while trying to plant his broom into the ground despite all the safety charms. And without his smirk, his face looked nice as well. His hair… well, she was the last person with any right to complain about wild hair.

All in all, quite a nice sight, indeed. No wonder she was having weird dreams about him. If only his personality matched his looks! Well, then he'd have a girlfriend already, so, in a way, that was…

She blinked and stifled a gasp with her hand. What was she thinking? She was mooning over Harry - over Potter! And he was the boy who had done his best - or worst - to make her years at Hogwarts a pain! Sure, he had saved her life, but so had she his in return. And anyone could be a decent person with enough motivation. Such as being stranded on a desert island. Or a not so desert island.

That was the whole reason for her uncharacteristic thoughts: The stress, the danger and the isolation. Even if something happened, nothing would come of this - once they were back in Britain, things would go back to normal. Well, not exactly as before, but without being forced to stay together, they would return to their own social circles.

Which, she reminded herself, were connected due to their best friends being a couple. What a mess. She really didn't want to hear about Potter getting a girlfriend.

She blinked again, then buried that thought and shook her head.

"Hey! Wake up! Harry! Wake up!"

He didn't react.

She sighed and bent down to shake his shoulder. "Wake up!"

He opened his eyes, and before she could pull back, his hand was on her cheek, and he smiled at her. "Hey!"

She felt herself blushing. What was he doing?

Then he blinked. "Oh."

"You need your glasses," she said, in the driest voice she could manage. "I think you mistook me for someone else."

"Uh, right."

She nodded and left. And refrained from touching her cheek.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 18: The Prison

Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 13th, 1996

"Alright. I'm going," Lily Potter said.

James growled something in return. Which was a remarkable show of restraint on his part - she knew that he really, really loathed what she was about to do - as much as he loathed the man she was visiting, in fact.

"Don't forget to cast another Patronus Messenger," she told him.

"I won't."

She nodded. It was a faint hope, but… Harry was a clever boy, and the girl he had disappeared with was reported to be the brightest witch since, well, Lily herself had attended Hogwarts. If they were stuck behind some old protections, they might find a way out. And then the spell would find them.

But it was a faint hope. Today marked a week since Harry had disappeared. A week! If they had been trapped in some old prison or fortress, without food and water… No! They had to be alive. They had to.

She took a deep breath to calm herself and opened the door. Then she blinked and turned back to the living room, where James was sulking. "I better not catch any of our friends following me," she told him.

He jerked. Just a little, but it was enough. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "James…"

"I want you to be safe. He's a Death Eater."

"Former Death Eater," she corrected him. "And I've met him before." Not often, to be honest.

"Things are different now, with Harry missing."

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "How so?"

"We still don't know for sure if this isn't part of an attack on us," he replied, glancing at her.

"Really. According to all we've found out so far, this was an accident." She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Are you really worried that Severus would attack me?" Sev had betrayed Voldemort for her. For her alone, she knew - she was under no illusion that her old friend was a good man.

James sighed. "Better safe than sorry."

"And you don't think having two or three of his old rivals around might put him off helping us?"

"If he is so petty as to let old grudges keep him from saving Harry…"

She rolled her eyes again. "He's not the only one carrying grudges."

"We didn't join Voldemort," James spat. "Well, not for real," he added.

"And he spied on Voldemort as well. Albus vouched for him." Lily wasn't blind to the fact that Sev had willingly joined before - but everyone deserved a second chance. After making up for what they had done, of course - if that was still possible. She shook her head. "Call them back. I'm not going to risk losing our best way to the Averys over a decades-old grudge."

She wasn't a pureblood, after all.

*****​

Cokeworth, Midlands, Britain, July 13th, 1996

He was waiting, as she had known, in the old playground. That was their place - they had met for the first time here, near their childhood homes. Here, in the bushes, she had found out that magic was real. And that she was a witch. And that her sister wasn't a witch. And that the Snape boy was a wizard.

Sev wasn't sitting on the swings, at least - he was sitting on the bench, his dark clothes - turtleneck, despite the weather, and black slacks - a stark contrast with the clothes of two women and one man who were sitting on the next bench, watching their kids play on the swings.

She walked up to him, knowing he had been watching her since she had set foot into the playground. "Hello, Sev."

"Lily." His voice sounded a little hoarse.

She sat down next to him - not too close, though. "You didn't scare off the others so we'd have a bench for us, did you?" She was only half-joking; she knew how caustic Sev could be, and age hadn't made him mellow out.

He snorted. "I didn't have to." He nodded towards the older woman of the two. "That's Bess Cartwright."

Lily blinked, then took a second look at the woman. "That's Bess?" The last time Lily had seen the woman, she had been wearing leathers and working on a motorbike. And screaming at her parents. Now she was wearing a sundress and a hat. And a few pounds more on her waistline.

Sev shrugged. "Yes. And she remembered me."

"Ah." Lily nodded. "And she didn't want to be reminded of her… wild phase?"

"Probably?" Sev shrugged again. "We were both outcasts, but we never… you know."

"I know."

He nodded. "I've heard about Harry."

"Yes." She had expected that.

"You think I can help you find him?"

Straight and to the point. She hadn't expected that. But she could run with it. "Yes. Or rather, one of your old friends."

He tensed. "I only have one old friend."

Her. Always her.

She forced herself to smile. "Really, Sev? And are your 'acquaintances' aware of that?"

He scoffed - but with some amusement. "If anyone amongst my acquaintances and colleagues should mistake our relationship for friendship, then they most certainly are too much of a dunderhead to be considered as a friend."

Lily shook her head. "Sev…" She cut herself off. Severus wouldn't change. He hadn't in close to twenty years now. "What about Avery?"

"A dunderhead. Not as much of a dunderhead as others of her circle." He sneered, then looked at her. "Is she behind the kidnapping?" He spoke almost casually - as if he were asking after the weather. But she knew him. Better than anyone else. Better than Dumbledore, Lily was sure. He was keeping his temper in check with an effort.

"I doubt it. But the Portkey which took Harry and Miss Granger away was stolen from Avery's attic. Years ago."

"Really?" Severus chuckled. Once. "So much for the vaunted security of her 'ancestral manor'." He spat the last words.

Lily shrugged. "It wasn't hers at the time, I believe."

"Oh, she already considered it hers. That her father was still alive was merely a technicality for her."

"I thought she wasn't…" She bit her lower lip as she trailed off.

"She wasn't a Death Eater. But she almost joined - when it looked as if the Dark Lord would be winning. But she dithered too much, afraid to cast her lot until it was a sure deal. Unlike others of her family."

She nodded. Avery hadn't been the only one, of course. Lily knew that many purebloods still sneered at her ancestry. Not in public, of course - that wouldn't do at all, not after Voldemort had been killed by Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. But she overheard enough comments at social gatherings - people really shouldn't trust the old privacy charms when Lily had crafted better ones. And people, some of them her friends, some seeking James' favour - or Dumbledore's, indirectly - relayed similar gossip to her. But she couldn't dwell on that. "It served her well, though, didn't it?" Cynthia Avery's father had been a Death Eater.

"Yes."

"And you vouched for her," Lily went on.

"Something I've come to regret," Severus replied. "If I had lied about her non-involvement, she wouldn't have mistaken my honesty for fondness."

The witch had pursued Sev? Lily refrained from showing her surprise. "You've never mentioned this," she said.

He sniffed. "It was of no consequence. A delusion on her part."

"Ah." There was more to that, of course. But Lily wouldn't touch it. Neither would Sev, of course. "You remained… acquaintances, though." At least as far as she knew.

"Her family is in the Potions business," Severus replied. "And I'm the leading Potioneer in Britain. Our interests overlap."

She nodded.

"You want me to act as a go-between? To persuade Cynthia to cooperate with the Aurors?" Once more, his tone was utterly casual.

Lily shook her head. "All I want is information. Who made the Portkey? Where did it lead to? When was it made?"

"You. Not the Aurors."

Lily nodded. "Harry is all that matters."

Severus nodded. "I suppose Albus is working on it as well."

"Yes."

"Discretion will help with getting Cynthia's cooperation, but it is by no means a guarantee. My acquaintance isn't always acting as rationally and pragmatically as she should," Sev said.

Great. "If she wants gold or a favour for this…" Lily started.

Severus shook his head. "She might harbour grudges. Irrational grudges."

Lily was confused. She didn't remember doing anything to Cynthia Avery. And… "Mad-Eye killed her father."

"Oh, she doesn't hold a grudge over that. If she hadn't been forced to maintain the facade of a dutiful daughter, she wouldn't even have come to his funeral." Sev scoffed, and Lily saw his lips twist into a… hint of a grimace? "No, she might have the mistaken impression that she's a rival of yours."

"A rival?" But Avery wasn't a spellcrafter, nor was she much of anything other than a member of the Wizengamot. So what…? No. Lily stared at her friend.

Severus had the grace to wince. Or what passed as a wince for him. "Yes. As I said, delusional."

Lily sighed. Their best lead to finding Harry thought Lily was her romantic rival?

"I will correct this - and I'll do my best to persuade her to share the information you need," Severus said.

"Thank you, Sev." Lily smiled. She should ask him not to break the law for her - but she wouldn't. Harry was too important.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 13th, 1996

"I'm glad you didn't try that on me."

Harry Potter gritted his teeth. Granger didn't have to comment - he could see himself that that hadn't been his most successful attempt. At least the bird was still alive. Although… in its current state, that might actually not be a good thing. He flicked his wand and dispelled the entire thing, ending the wheezing noise it made, trying to breathe with lungs that weren't quite the right size anymore. Or something. "Well, you deliberately miscast the spell. You wouldn't do that with you or me."

"I deliberately miscast it so we can learn how to Untransfigure such mishaps," she retorted. "And, obviously, we need more training."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That was an exception. Most of the time, I managed just fine."

"So did I - but we both had failures. And if we can't fix a miscast spell when we're training, how can we expect to do so when we're in a stressful situation?"

"I, at least, work better under pressure," he told her. Granger wasn't as good at thinking on her feet as he was.

She frowned at him. "Leaving aside the veracity of that claim, that doesn't mean it's good enough to be used for real."

"If we don't have any other choice, it's still good enough - better than taking our chances with the pirates."

"Probable pirates," she said.

He scoffed. Softly. "And we only need to do this if we make a mistake with our Shrinking Charms in the first place." And they had those down pat. Granted, they hadn't actually shrunk themselves, but anything else worked like a charm.

"Which we aren't planning to use other than in an emergency, either," she said. She sighed and sat down on the log near them. "I don't like relying on… on spells that I haven't mastered." She stared at the ground and moved her wand between her fingers.

Oh. He cleared his throat. "Sometimes, you have to work with what you have, not what you want to have."

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I would prefer not to do that when my life is at stake."

He shrugged and sat down next to her. Not so close that their thighs would touch, of course. "Well, I'd prefer that myself, but we may not have a choice."

"We could wait until we're certain that we can cast the charm perfectly under pressure," she bit out.

"We'll never be certain of that," he countered. At least Hermione wouldn't - she was a perfectionist. "Besides, we're not planning to shrink ourselves." Not today.

"And if our current plan doesn't work out? What if we don't find anything useful?" She brushed a stray lock of her hair out of her face.

He blinked, momentarily distracted by her face. "Then we make another plan."

"Like shrinking ourselves and hiding in a coconut bunker?"

He smiled. "It sounds crazy if you describe it like that."

"Like out of a cartoon," she agreed.

"Yes. Or that movie. Honey, I Shrunk the Kids."

"Oh, yes." She shook her head. "I was so disappointed when my parents took me to watch it."

"Oh?" Harry thought it had been an OK movie. Nothing great, but OK.

She snorted. "I found it so… unrealistic. The square cube-law wasn't used correctly. And the entire plot… I gave my parents an earful on the way home."

"A lecture?" He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he had said it. That was…

She froze for a moment, then sighed and nodded with a rueful smile. "Yes, a lecture. They got me back when we were told magic was real, and I discovered the Shrinking Charm."

"Ah." He could imagine that. Growing up with her… well, raising her, in this case.

"You seem to have watched a lot of movies."

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Did she think he was an ignorant pureblood? "I visit my cousin often."

"Ah." She hesitated a moment - he saw her bite her lower lip - then went on: "I've heard that that's a little unusual."

"For purebloods," he replied with a frown. "My mum's a muggleborn."

She looked at him. "That's the reason?"

"She doesn't want us to lose contact with my aunt and her family," he explained.

"I thought only the immediate family were allowed to know about magic."

"Siblings qualify," he said. "And that includes their family." At least that was one interpretation.

"Ah. But your cousin won't be allowed to tell his family, should he marry?"

He pressed his lips together. She was correct - well, she would've read the laws. But this wasn't something anyone in the Potter or Dursley family liked to talk about.

After a moment, she cleared her throat and stood. "Let's train a bit more."

He stood as well. "OK."

*****​

The waiting was the worst. Hermione Granger could stomach swimming - at night - through waters that were infested by sharks. Well, at least one shark. She had done it before, and she'd do it again - no matter how much she… disliked the prospect. Sharks couldn't hurt her through a well-cast Shield Charm, anyway. And as dangerous as sneaking into a pirate village - suspected pirate village, she reminded herself - was, she could do it as well. They had taken steps to minimise the danger, after all. After midnight, there shouldn't be many, if any, villagers still awake. And she certainly wouldn't shy away from any necessary task in front of Potter - Harry. She'd rather… well, no, she wouldn't rather die. But she would brave any reasonable danger before she let him do it by himself. He'd be insufferable.

But waiting? That was torture. Sitting in a bush, waiting until the sun had set, not even a book to read, with a dangerous trip waiting for her...That she couldn't stand. She wanted to do something - anything - to prepare for the night.

"Calm down, Gr-Hermione," Potter suddenly said. "It's still a few hours until sunset."

"I'm perfectly aware of that," she shot back. As if she hadn't memorised it!

"Then rest. Nap. Sleep. You can't do anything productive right now."

She pursed her lips. She could go over the route in her mind. Again.

"Look, it'll be fine. Just a dip in the sea, then we go for a stroll and send up a few birds. Easy."

"You shouldn't assume that our opponents are idiots." Underestimating your enemy was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't. But I also don't assume that they have thought of everything and are already preparing an ambush for us." Potter grinned. And "who dares wins."

"You aren't in the Special Air Service," she told him.

He blinked, then snorted. "Figures you'd know about that."

"Of course I do." Really - it was one of the most famous regiments of the British Army, after all. Back during the Gulf War, the newspapers had been full of speculation about what the SAS was doing in Iraq.

He shook his head. "I bet it must annoy you a very great deal when you encounter something you don't know."

"I know my limits." And her weaknesses.

He shrugged again. "Just sleep. You need to be rested later. Tired people make mistakes."

"I'm aware of that."

"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."

"Ah." He nodded. "And you always study right until the test starts."

Of course he would be aware of that. "Yes."

"Well, we did all we could. And now we need to sleep. Just pretend it's the evening before the O.W.L.s."

"I studied halfway through the night," she told him.

"Oh."

She rolled her eyes. Really, it was nothing special.

"The whole two weeks?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes."

"No wonder I got you so easily afterwards."

"A small price to pay for good O.W.L.s. Not everyone can count on family connections," she shot back.

"My family would never do that!" he retorted. "Besides, that's not how it works in Quidditch!"

She rolled her eyes. Potter and Quidditch! "Just because there's one venue for muggleborns to advance without having to fight bigotry doesn't mean everything's fine. For a decent career, I have to outdo all the purebloods by a wide margin." She clenched her teeth. Even that arrogant numbskull Malfoy would have a much easier time than her.

"Well, you're outdoing almost all the purebloods by a wide margin, aren't you?"

"Yes. Because I cram until the last moment."

"Well, this is different. This is more… think of it as sports. You need to be well-rested and limbered to give your best."

She glared at him, but she didn't have a retort handy. Not before he grinned at her. "See? Just need to look at it differently."

She scoffed. But he had a point. If she considered this as a physical challenge - which, to a great degree, it was - she should be able to convince her subconsciousness to let her rest.

Probably.

"One of us will still have to keep watch," she said. "We're close to the village."

"Right. I'll do it. I've been resting enough already."

She wanted to dispute that as well, but he was right. Again. This was going to become a habit.

But she did manage to rest with him on guard.

*****​

Swimming through the darkness was the worst, Hermione Granger thought. She couldn't see the ground - so close to the new moon, she could barely see the rocky peninsula in the dim starlight. And if she didn't follow very closely, she would lose sight of Harry - it wasn't as if his dark hair was easy to spot above the water. They should've taken some string to link them, she thought - trusting a Summoning Charm aimed at the cords around their wrists to let them find each other had sounded fine on the beach, but now, in the dark sea…

Had something moved ahead of them, in the water? She couldn't see anything, certainly not a fin, but that didn't mean anything. Sharks didn't have to swim near the surface for an attack. And in the darkness below her, anything could be hiding.

She had cast a Shield Charm. There was nothing in the water that could hurt her. Not a shark, not a jellyfish, not a snake or crocodile. Not that there should be crocodiles in the ocean west of Africa, nor sea snakes. Then again, this was a magically hidden island - who knew what kind of bestiary the founders of this village had brought along? They had a wyvern after, all. Not any more, she reminded herself, baring her teeth for a moment.

Whatever lurked below the sea here, Harry and she would deal with it if it got in their way. They would have to.

She told herself that a few more times as they rounded the peninsula shielding the pirate village from view.

She stopped swimming when she laid eyes on the houses. They were lit up quite brightly. Shouldn't they have seen the light from the jungle? This complicated things.

She saw Harry was pulling ahead and sped up until she could touch his leg.

*****​

Harry Potter felt something grip his ankle and jerked, whirling around, hand going to his wand, before he realised it was Hermione. Clenching his teeth at his own reaction, she quickly closed with her. "What is it?" he asked in a whisper.

"The village is illuminated," she replied.

Of course it was - he could see just fine; his glasses were not only covered with an Impervius charm but also under a Bubble-Head Charm. "Yes?"

"We can't just sneak into the village like that," she snapped.

"We won't," he replied. "It's still before midnight; they might dim the lights in a few."

"And if they don't?"

He grinned, even though she couldn't see it. "Then we'll use that against them. They won't be able to see anything in the darkness."

"Everything we want to investigate is illuminated, though," she pointed out.

"We'll find out once we get there." It wasn't as if they had a better plan, and turning back wasn't an option.

She huffed but didn't say anything else, so he turned and continued to swim towards the village - though now he was aiming at the edge of the lit area, where the peninsula began.

They gave the ship anchored in the middle of the cove a wide berth - there would be a watch on board, or should, as far as he knew - and after some struggle with the currents - probably the tides - they reached the rocky beach.

They dashed through the surf, bent over, and hid behind a rock there. Harry forced himself to breathe slowly and calmly - he had to lead by example. Hermione was already nervous enough. "So… let's take a look," he said with a smile.

"A careful look," she whispered.

He slowly rose until he could look over the rock. From this close - barely outside the cone of light cast by the spell at the waterfront - the large prison building looked even more imposing. Definitely not fit for a fishing village. He couldn't see a guard outside, but… someone was moving inside; he could see the shadows on the ceiling of the first floor from this angle.

"Not many are on the street," Hermione whispered. "But that building there seems to be a tavern. Third from the right."

He took a look. The building was a little larger than the other houses in the village, and if he listened closely… "Yes. I think I can hear some laughter and some singing, too."

"From that direction, at least," Hermione said.

"Yes. But we can see people moving inside. And it's more brightly lit than the rest." He snorted. "I wonder if they're drinking alcohol. Drunk pirates would be easier to avoid - or deal with - than sober ones." And while Caribbean pirates were usually portrayed as heavy drinkers in movies, he wasn't quite sure if that applied to Barbary Coast pirates.

"I don't see a mosque," Hermione replied. "That doesn't have to mean anything. Given the village's size and age, and the size of the buildings, they could've afforded one easily - but then again, they might have a mosque and just didn't bother with a minaret. Or they belong to the wizards who converted to another faith following the Statute of Secrecy."

"In short, we have no way to tell," Harry summed up. He cocked his head. "Then again, they do sound drunk."

"They do sound remarkably like the Gryffindor common room during a victory party," she commented.

He snorted. "Right."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I know." He snorted again and heard her sigh.

*****​

Hermione Granger took a few deep breaths. They were in the village. Hiding behind a rock at the beach - and would need to wipe out the tracks they'd left in the sand, once they moved. But it didn't look as if the villagers had posted any guards. And they were close to the prison.

But were there wards on the building? And what kind? It was possible that only those with a key - an amulet, for example - could enter or leave the building. That would be a very safe way to handle things - but it would also be a hassle for moving captives. And people, be they wizards and witches or muggles, preferred solutions that made things more convenient for them. And one witch at least had managed to escape, though since she had managed to get a wand, she might also have managed to acquire a key. On the other hand, replacing a key would require a Curse-Breaker familiar with the wards.

Assuming the villagers didn't have spells protecting the prison that required a key, what spells would they have cast? Detection and alarm spells, most likely. Anyone leaving a cell would trigger an alarm. That would be easy to implement. It would require guards, though. And it wouldn't protect the building itself. Spells that reinforced the walls and locking spells on the windows and doors would be easy as well. "We need to check the grass and growth around the building," she whispered.

"For a wardline? Yes." Harry nodded.

If there were spells on the building reaching further than the walls, the villagers would avoid coming close - and that would be reflected by the grass and other plants inside the wards growing more than those outside. But they couldn't check that from here. "Yes." She wet her lips. "We need to get closer." But not too close.

"I don't see any guard or anyone else looking our way," Harry said. "And there's a tree and a bush ahead."

It looked like a decent hiding spot - as long as no one managed to get behind them. And close enough for a better view of the prison building. "Wipe out our traces in the sand here, first," she whispered.

Harry flicked his wand, mumbling the spell, and she saw a gust of wind sweep over the beach towards the surf. Good enough.

A last check to see if anyone was around - the windows in the building that were facing them were dark - and they sprinted across the sand, then across rockier ground until they could crouch down behind the tree and the bush. But up close, Hermione realised at once that the foliage wasn't quite as dense as it had looked for further away. It wouldn't hide them from the building.

She was panting, both from the dash as well as the stress, she realised. But they could waste time - she got down on the ground and crawled through the bush until she could look at the area near the building. Harry did the same on the other side of the tree.

The grass - scarce as it was - looked the same close to the building and further away. "I don't see any hint of a wardline," she whispered.

"Me neither," he replied. "It looks like they stuck to spells on the building."

"Yes." That was a fairly common way of protecting your house, after all - if you didn't care about the yard or garden. Or the park, for some manors - not that she had seen any pureblood manor herself except for pictures in the Prophet. "So, we should be fine as long as we don't try to break in."

"Yes. Let's look through the windows!"

She turned her head to glance at him, and he flashed his cocky grin. Typical. "Carefully," she replied.

"Always." His grin didn't falter. "Let's crawl - they might spot movement."

They would be exposed for longer, but he was right - crawling would let them use the shadows cast by the taller grass and some roots - the only light illuminating the building was at the front, above the door. As they had seen from afar.

But crawling over the ground was both tiresome and left them covered in dirt. Additional camouflage, Potter would probably call it.

But they reached the walls, and Hermione breathed more easily. And listened.

"I don't hear anyone," Harry said. "No one's snoring, at least."

That didn't mean anything, of course. But it was enough to risk peering through the windows of the ground floor. She rose, keeping close to the wall, and, having to stand on her tiptoes, glanced through the barred window - which lacked a glass panel - closest to them.

It was a cell. Bars forming the wall opposite the window, empty except for a cot and a bucket. She hesitated, then ended her Bubble-Head Charm and sniffed the air.

And grimaced. The air stank. Like a locker room that hadn't been cleaned for a while. Or the room of a sick person who had spent a week in bed without taking a shower. She pushed those memories away. She couldn't see much of the rest of the building - just more cells across on the other side.

She dropped into a crouch and whispered: "It's a cell. Empty. But according to the smell, it wasn't abandoned years or decades ago." She recast the Bubble-Head Charm.

Potter, of course, had to take a look himself - and smell the air - before he agreed. "Yes. Let's check the other cells we can reach on this side."

"Yes."

They quickly checked the rest of the cells - five of them, facing the peninsula, with the building shielding them from view from the rest of the village. All looked and smelt the same. There were other cells, but they were facing the village or the sea - both exposed and partially illuminated.

"We could check the first floor," Harry suggested. "You can climb on my shoulders."

She bit her lower lip. They could levitate instead - if they had a plank. "Alright," she whispered. He was already forming a step for her with his hands. She put her foot on it and grabbed his head to steady herself. That put her very close to him, she noticed as their eyes met for a moment. Then he looked away and lifted her up.

She stopped on his shoulder, having to put her hands on the wall to keep her balance, then took a deep breath and looked up. The windowsill was too far away. "Lift me higher," she whispered.

She heard him grunt in response, then felt his hands near her feet, trying to slide under them.

It took some effort - she heard him grunt again, louder - but he managed to push her up high enough so she could grab the windowsill and pull herself up so she could peer through the window.

All for nothing - the cell was empty as well.

Frustrated, she was about to climb down - well, to let Harry know he could lower her down and hope she wouldn't lose her balance and end up falling - when she heard a noise. A grunt. Or a moan. Someone was on this floor.

She almost called out before she realised that it might be a guard. Some prisons had live-in guards. If this was a pirate… Hermione clenched her teeth, angry at her own stupidity. She'd almost risked Harry and her freedom, possibly their lives!

Speaking of Harry… she felt the hands holding her up becoming a little unsteady.

"Oi! You're kind of heavy!" she heard him whisper.

She gripped the bars more tightly and pulled her feet up a few inches, then glanced down. Harry had moved so he wasn't directly below her any more. Good.

She put her feet against the wall, then released the bars and pushed off. She didn't quite stand the landing, tumbling into the grass, but a quick check confirmed that she hadn't hurt herself.

"So, what caught your attention?" Harry asked.

"There's someone sleeping on the upper floor," she whispered as she stood, dusting sand and dirt clumps off her legs and rump.

He froze.

*****​

"Someone's in a cell up there?" Harry Potter asked. A prisoner. Or captive. Or hostage. Damn.

"I don't know," Hermione replied in a whisper. "I only heard them make a noise, presumably in their sleep. It could be a guard as well."

"Oh." Yes, that was a distinct possibility, as Dumbledore would say. "We need to check."

"Are you strong enough to lift me up to every window?" She retorted.

Of course he was strong enough! Although… she wasn't quite as lithe as Ginny. Ron's sister would be Gryffindor's best Seeker if not for Harry since she was light as a feather and could make her broom exploit that. "Which direction did you hear the noises from?"

She pointed towards the peninsula. "That direction."

"Ah." He moved to the corner and took a quick glance around it. "That window here should be facing the whole hallway."

"And in order to peer through it, we'll have to expose ourselves to the ship tied up in the bay."

"I don't see any light on the ship," he retorted.

"That doesn't mean they won't have a watch," she told him. "Their night vision would be better without a light."

"So's ours, and I didn't see anyone on deck or in the rigging," he pointed out. "And they have no reason to hide," he added. "Quite the contrary - they wouldn't want the rest of the crew on shore to think they were slacking off."

She pursed her lips and didn't say anything, which meant she was agreeing with his reasoning. "I guess we'll have to risk it."

"Yes." Besides, she was tanned and only wearing a bra and pants. So she shouldn't catch the eye when put in front of the sand-coloured building. At least not without a spotlight on her. "Let's go, then!"

They rounded the corner, and he pressed himself against the wall, then helped her climb on his shoulders, then on his hands. And she was heavy. He was no Beater - he was a Seeker. Precision, not brute strength. But he'd rather bite his tongue than admit that to her; Calling her fat while showing a weakness was a recipe for suicide.

He grunted anyway while he kept his trembling arms pointed straight up.

"Shhh," she whispered. "I need to listen."

Oh, for…!

"Oh. That can't… those monsters!"

He felt her weight vanish - she must have pulled herself up - and quickly darted to the side. A moment later, Hermione hit the ground, feet first, and he managed to grab her hand before she fell down again. "Steady."

She scoffed, looking as angry - no, angrier, far angrier - than she had when he managed to colour her hair bright pink on the train home in third year, with no one around to fix it. Harry almost took a step back.

"I've seen their captive," she hissed. "It's a little girl!"

Oh damn. "A little girl?"

"Let's get behind the building," she snapped, rounding the corner again.

He followed her. "They've kidnapped a little girl?"

"Yes. I can't determine how old she is - I didn't see enough of her face - but she's too small to be a teenager." She was still seething.

Well, so was Harry.

"We have to save her," she spat.

She was standing there in her underwear, sand and dirt on her legs, her hair a wet mess. A girl who had just passed her O.W.L.s. Yet, Harry didn't doubt that she would do everything she could to save the girl.

She was also looking bloody hot.

And staring at him, he noticed. Belatedly, he nodded. "Yes, we'll save her."

Even though he had no idea how. Yet.

*****​

 

[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]

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."

*****​

 

[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.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 22: The Morning After

Magical Algiers, Magical Algeria, July 16th, 1996

"This heat is unbearable!" Sirius Black shook his head. "How anyone might wish to live in this country out of their own free will, I will never understand!" The cobblestones under his feet felt as hot as a heating plate. Not that he had ever stood on the latter, and he would forever deny the rumours that he might have jumped on a muggle stove as Padfoot, but he could imagine it.

His two companions didn't respond. He turned to glare at them, but Peter was looking around at all the stalls on the Bazar in Magical Algier as if he expected an ambush to be launched at every moment, and Bill… well, the Curse-Breaker was glaring at something as if he was about to launch an attack.

Now, what would that… Oh. Sirius nodded when he saw Bill's target. The entrance to the slave market. "Filthy business," he muttered.

"The ICW should put a stop to this," Bill replied.

"The ICW couldn't care less," Sirius said. "And all that pressure from other countries has managed is that they don't openly trade their slaves in the Bazar proper any more."

Bill pressed his lips together.

"We're here to meet your contact," Sirius reminded him.

"I know."

"Alright." Starting a fight wouldn't help anyone - three wizards couldn't hope to do anything to an entire town. Unless they were Dumbledore. Or willing to use Fiendfyre. And burning slaves was very much the opposite of saving them.

And even Dumbledore would be challenged here, Sirius thought - the whole Bazar was full of wizards and witches. And magical creatures of all sorts. No wonder Peter looked like he was about to have a heart attack or something, trying to keep an eye on every possible threat.

Well, anyone with a wand was a possible threat. Or, Sirius amended his thoughts as he saw a huge Djinn float by, even those without a wand.

"Enchanted pipes! Enchanted pipes! Buy the pipe of your dreams!"

Sirius ignored the merchant's yells. The man had switched to English as soon as he had spotted them. And they weren't here to shop - they were here to find out which of the pirate gangs had Harry. And who they had to kill to get Harry back. And the girl.

"Flying Carpets! Handwoven by the finest artisans of Persia! Flying Carpets!"

"Banned in Britain," Peter mumbled.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I know. My grandfather voted on the ban." For a bribe, of course - the Blacks hadn't had any interest in broom manufacturers at the time. Not until Sirius had taken over as the head of the family and invested in Nimbus.

"The carpets are quite useful in Egypt," Bill commented.

"Oh? We might need one then, for Harry," Sirius said. He had always wanted a flying carpet as a boy. Mainly because it was illegal, of course.

"I doubt that," Peter said.

"You never know. And it would make a nice conversation piece." Sirius grinned.

"A conversation piece?" Bill asked.

"You know: 'Have you ever made love on a flying carpet?'" Sirius grinned widely at the other two. Peter groaned and pointedly looked at anyone else, but Bill chuckled. "Actually, yes."

Sirius blinked, then grinned.

That meant he most certainly had to buy a flying carpet!

"Sirius…"

He ignored Peter as he walked over to the stall. "Greetings!" he bellowed. "Show me your best carpet!"

"Oh for… Sirius!" Peter hissed. "We've got an appointment!"

"This won't take long!" Sirius whispered back while the merchant summoned a rolled-up carpet. "And it'll help our cover."

"As if you'd care about that."

Sirius grinned and prepared to haggle.

*****​

Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way again, some galleons lighter, but with a fine Persian Flying Carpet.

"That wasn't the best Persian Carpet," Peter complained. "I don't think it was actually Persian, you know. Probably Egyptian."

"So? Who in Britain would know that?" Sirius replied.

His friend sighed. "We're going to be late."

"That'll only help our cover as harmless tourists."

"Basem Kateb will know we aren't harmless tourists as soon as we broach the reason we're here," Bill said.

"But everyone else won't," Sirius defended himself and his purchase.

Peter sighed, which Sirius knew from experience meant that he had won this exchange.

"We're here," Bill said, pointing at a sturdy but not too spacious house ahead of them. He stepped forward and grabbed the doorknocker to announce them.

A voice asked something in what Sirius assumed was Arabian. Bill replied in kind, and the door swung open, revealing a young man bowing his head to them and gesturing at them to step into the house.

Sirius was certain that the wizard - he could see the wand holster in the wide sleeve - understood English even though he hadn't shown a sign of it so far.

He led them through a lavishly decorated entrance hall - his mother would have sneered and yet been impressed - to a courtyard. Through a courtyard. Exotic and magical plants were everywhere. Sirius almost wished he had paid more attention in Herbology - some of that stuff was probably dangerous. And the scent… Padfoot would love it. Probably - some scents humans liked dogs hated. And vice versa. Open to the sky, though Sirius was certain that the whole building was protected by strong wards - no one sane would leave such a vulnerability in their home. Still, it was a possible means of entry.

They quickly passed through the yard, through another open door, and into a hallway with refreshingly cool air. More Arabian, and the man flicked a wand, opening a door.

Sirius resisted the urge to whistle - the salon they were entering looked like it had been taken straight out of one of those muggle movies. Or from the covers of those novels Lily denied she read. Silk, floating cushions, floating carafes… and who had to be Basem Kateb, sitting on a cushion that was floating a little higher than the others. His robes - if you could call the clothes robes - were studded with gold and unfamiliar runes.

Sirius couldn't see any guards, but that didn't mean there weren't any - the girl kneeling in the corner with a musical instrument he didn't recognise could easily be a bodyguard. Or they could be hiding behind the curtains in the back.

He glanced at Peter, who was squinting at the curtains, but not the girl. The curtains, then. Once more, Sirius would've liked to be Padfoot - he would've smelt everyone nearby, hiding or not. But if he had come as Padfoot, he probably wouldn't have been allowed inside.

Kateb nodded and mumbled a greeting. Bill replied in kind, bowing. Peter did the same, so Sirius bowed - though not quite as deeply. He was a Black, after all. And that still meant something.

Their host gestured towards the floating cushions - three of them - and they sat down. Crosslegged, like Kateb; Sirius didn't want to offend the man by dangling his legs. This was about Harry.

At a snap of Kateb's fingers, another girl entered with trays floating next to her. Refreshments. As she served, Sirius checked his ring. No poison.

Peter glared at him, but he ignored his friend. Only a fool wouldn't check for poison in such circumstances. Or at a Black family dinner. And Sirius had been subtle about it, anyway.

"Welcome to Algiers," Kateb said - in English - after a sip of overly sweet tea. "I hope you had a comfortable trip."

"We did, thank you," Bill replied.

Sirius nodded. "You know what they say: If you have travelled through one fireplace, you've travelled through all of them." He shrugged.

The wizard laughed, which was a good thing. Sirius's charm was working. "So they say. That's why I prefer to travel by carpet."

Which also indicated that he could take the time to travel that way, which was indicative of his status. Or should be - mother had had words for certain wizards and witches who didn't keep busy enough to need Apparition or Floo travel instead of brooms.

"Yes," Sirius said. "I've just bought a nice carpet myself."

"I was under the impression that they were banned in your home country."

"They are." Sirius smiled.

"Ah. But you didn't want to speak with me about carpets, I believe."

He suppressed a frown. Peter and Bill had impressed upon Sirius that Kateb wouldn't come straight to the point; that it was impolite to press the reason for their visit. So why would Kateb do it anyway? He shrugged again. "No. And I think you know why we're here."

"I must confess that the exact reason escapes me, though, given the kind of help I'm often offering to foreigners who have run afoul of peculiar customs in my country, I have certain assumptions."

"My godson, Harry Potter," Sirius said. "And his companion." It wouldn't do to call the girl Harry's friend. Sirius had quickly learned that Miss Granger was many things, but not Harry's friend. "We have good reasons to believe that they are currently the 'guests' of a pirate gang."

Kateb didn't twitch but tilted his head slightly as he ran a hand over his thin beard. "It seems you have me at a disadvantage. I haven't heard about this from a dependable source."

"And from not quite trustworthy sources?" Sirius leaned forward.

"Vague rumours I took to pure speculation or transparent attempts to frame a rival."

"Ah." Sirius took a sip from his still too sweet tea. "Well, rumours can be tracked."

"Not without a substantial effort."

That language Sirius knew well. "Which would deserve compensation."

Kateb smiled.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 16th, 1996

Lying on his back, Harry Potter stared at the ceiling. Not that he could make out much of it, not without his glasses. Which must have ended up somewhere on the floor during the night. Together with his trousers. And pants. And shoes. And watch.

How exactly he had been stripped naked was a little fuzzy. He was pretty sure it hadn't been a spell, though. And that it had been Hermione.

Hermione, who was currently using his chest as a pillow and the rest of his body as a mattress - he didn't need glasses to recognise the mane of bushy brown hair in front of him. And the way she had clamped her legs around his own also felt quite familiar. As did her skin on his. And she was naked, this time - he remembered that part clearly.

He closed his eyes. They had done it. Hermione and he. On her robes, stuffed with grass, in a makeshift underground shelter. If someone had told him a month ago that this would happen, Harry would have thought them a fool. Crazier than Luna's dad.

But it had happened. He'd had sex. With Hermione.

Bloody hell!

Ron would never let him forget this. And if Skeeter ever heard of this… He shuddered. And Mum… Ugh. Mum wouldn't be happy. At least, they had remembered to cast a Contraception Charm in time. Well, Hermione had. Harry would've been a little too late.

"Ngh."

Oh, no - Hermione was stirring. Waking up. She was making that cute and very un-Hermione noise. And she was shifting around on top of him.

Harry clenched his teeth. He didn't know how she would react. Hell, he didn't know what she had been thinking last night.

She lifted her head in an also familiar way, then stared at him, blinking. "Oh, hi Harry. Good morning." Then she blushed before he could reply. "Oh."

'Oh' indeed. Harry nodded. He could see how she went from happy and confused to embarrassed and… shy? He smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she repeated herself. Then she swallowed dryly - he saw her throat move - but didn't say anything else.

Nor did he. They stared at each other instead. She wet her lips and cleared her throat, but she still didn't say anything. But she also hadn't moved away from him. That was a good sign - or so he hoped.

He cleared his throat as well, drawing a deep breath right afterwards when he felt her shift a little more when he coughed. "So…" He wet his dry lips. "We, ah…"

"We had sex!" she blurted out.

"Yes." He nodded.

"And we've been chased by pirates with dogs. At least one dog."

"Yes." He nodded again, tensing up. Would she claim this was just stress again? She better not.

"So...." She sighed before biting her lower lip. "What do we do now?"

"About the pirates? Or… us?" Was there an 'us'? Damn, he sounded like one of Rose's stupid romance novels.

"The pirates are an urgent, very urgent threat," she said. "We can… sort out us afterwards."

'Sort out'? That wasn't a good sign. But Harry nodded anyway. "That sounds… logical."

"Very logical." She licked her lips again. And took a deep breath.

"Yes." He swallowed - he could feel her breathing. And… Damn. He drew a breath through clenched teeth. This was… He couldn't stand it. He couldn't just… ignore this. This whole thing. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

She gasped, her eyes widening.

He shook his head. "Sorry, I had to say it." He forced himself to smile.

"Ah…" She swallowed. "You're attractive yourself."

Really? His smile widened. "Thanks."

She nodded, a little jerkily. "And… well…" She bit her lower lip again.

Harry felt the urge to nibble on it himself. "Yes?"

Moments passed. He held his breath.

"I think I l-like you."

Ah. He felt both happy and disappointed. "Me too. You, that is." He clenched his teeth again. That was about as smooth as Neville trying to ask out Parvati. Though Neville hadn't been in bed with the witch. And they had both been clothed. Something Harry and Hermione weren't, as he was very much aware.

She smiled. Hesitantly. And wet her lips. Again.

He looked at her wide eyes. Then at her lips.

Damn it.

He slowly moved his free hand up to cup her cheek.

She tilted her head a little, leaning into his palm.

He raised his head, but with her position on him, he couldn't kiss her.

For a moment, he looked at her, looking awkward and stupid.

Then she shifted, moving forward, and they kissed.

*****​

My hormones will be the death of me, Hermione Granger thought. Harry and she were being hunted by Barbary Coast pirates, on a secret island, facing slavery or death, and instead of working on a plan to get out of this, she'd had sex with Harry. Again.

And it had been better than last night. She frowned at the stray thought crossing her mind. Of course the second time would've been better - practice made perfect, after all. And she had some ideas to improve the third time…

She clenched her teeth. No, she couldn't let herself get distracted. The island wasn't small, but it wasn't particularly large, either. As soon as the pirates found out that the wyvern was gone, they would be able to search the jungle at their leisure.

And Hermione had no illusions that this shelter would escape notice. Well, it might escape a cursory glance from the sky, but on the ground? Once the pirates buckled down and started to systematically comb the island, Harry and her days would be numbered.

"We need to make a plan," she said, raising her head to look at Harry. On whose body she was still lying, she noted. "And we better get dressed for that."

"Uh, yes," he agreed. "You're a little distracting like this."

She raised her eyebrows. "A little?"

"A lot." He grinned.

She returned the grin with more confidence than she actually had. Certainly, Harry had said he liked her, and that she was beautiful, but it wasn't as if he had a plethora of witches to whom he could compare her. Not on this island.

On the other hand, Hermione wasn't exactly at her best, either. If she made the same effort to style herself as, say, Lavender, she shouldn't look too shabby next to the others of her year. At least she hoped so. Lavender certainly told her so often enough.

She snorted. Her best friend's reaction, should she actually ask for more help with her makeup charms, should be a sight to behold.

"Oh?"

She realised that Harry was staring at her. "Sorry, I got lost in thought. I was thinking of Lavender."

He nodded. "Right. Ron and she would be worried to death about us."

Hermione felt rather guilty for her frivolous thoughts. Of course Lavender would care more about her being back safe and sound than makeup! "Yes. Which brings us back to planning."

"And dressing."

"Yes." She lingered on him for a moment longer, then slid off him and started summoning her clothes. Not without stealing a glance at Harry when he did the same. With the sun now high in the sky, the light shining through the openings in the entrance was easily bright enough to let her see his body perfectly well.

And Harry's body looked as good as it had felt.

She pursed her lips. That was her hormones speaking, again. Well, her hormones and her appreciation of aesthetics.

And her emotions, she admitted, clenching her teeth. She had to focus. She couldn't afford more distractions or flights of fancy. And neither could Harry. They had to find a way to escape the pirates and the island.

Sighing - there was no time for a real bath or shower - she cast a few cleaning charms on herself, followed by a few hairstyling charms. It wasn't as if a minute more spent on personal grooming would doom them, anyway.

Then she cleaned and mended her clothes - they hadn't weathered their hasty flight through the jungle any better than her skin had - and started to dress.

"Breakfast will be coconuts," Harry announced when she had finished dressing - of course, he'd have finished dressing faster. "I doubt we should risk grilling fish again."

"I concur." At least coconuts wouldn't attract bloodhounds. "We probably should stick to coconuts exclusively."

He grimaced at that. She sighed - she wasn't fond of the fare either - but eating coconuts was better than being captured. Or suffering an even worse fate.

With a flick of her wand, she summoned one coconut, then split it with him. And noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that he kept staring at her face and hair as they ate.

"So… what do we do?" he finally asked. "They'll search the island as soon as they realise we've killed the wyvern. Both will take them some time, so we need to find a way to escape them. And free their prisoner."

"Yes." She nodded. "So, first, we need to find out how they found us. I don't think a single hungry dog would start such a manhunt. Not so quickly, at the very least."

*****​

"That was a little… suspicious," Harry Potter agreed. "The response was very quick, and I didn't think even a dog could smell food from that far away."

"Unless the dog wasn't in the village, but already in the jungle when it smelt the food," Hermione pointed out.

"That would mean they were already looking for us," Harry said. "And were close."

"Yes." Hermione slowly nodded. "And if they were already looking for us, they must have had reasons to suspect our presence."

"But we were careful to erase our tracks," Harry protested.

"We might have overlooked something," Hermione said. "Or we might have triggered a spell without noticing."

"We would have heard the alert," Harry pointed out. "Or seen a reaction."

"Unless they didn't react immediately." Hermione snorted. "Just because you're supposed to react at once to an alert doesn't mean everyone will do it."

"Right." Harry nodded. "But we shouldn't assume that they made a mistake."

"No. But we have to assume that we weren't as thorough in avoiding traces and being noticed as we thought," she retorted. She grimaced. "That means we did all the scouting for nothing."

"Not for nothing," he reminded her. "We found out about their prisoner that way."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. And the prison might have been where we made a mistake - that was the closest we came to the village. Into the village," she corrected herself.

It was a thin silver lining, but Harry would take what he could get. "So, we have to assume that in the future, they'll be aware once we enter the village."

"Or even the cove," Hermione added. "They might have set up spells to detect human-sized intruders and dismissed alerts as animals without further clues or alerts."

"Wouldn't that be triggered by every dolphin? Or tuna?" Harry asked.

"Yes, though I don't know if either species is native in these waters," Hermione replied. "Although if the wyvern, as I suspected, primarily hunted aquatic animals, such a spell would have been triggered often, rendering it useless for defence."

"I don't think anyone would use such a spell - the drawback should be obvious," Harry said. "Unless they wanted to use it as a shark warning system as well."

"That could be a reason for such a spell," Hermione agreed. "But in any case, we'll have to take a quick reaction into account."

"That means we have to lure the pirates - at least most of them - away from the village before we enter it," Harry said.

"There are so many pirates and their families, I doubt that we can lure most of them away," Hermione pointed out.

"Not all of them will be willing or able to hunt dangerous intruders," Harry told her with a grin. "If we get most of their better duellists out of the village, that should help a lot."

"Unless they're stupid, they'll keep some of their best in the village," she retorted.

"Still, it's better to fight half the village than the whole village." Harry frowned at her. He was trying to be optimistic here!

"But half the village would still overwhelm us easily," Hermione told him. "We need a distraction for the entire village. Or two distractions."

She wasn't wrong. "If they almost certainly didn't have it warded, I'd say setting the ship on fire would be a good distraction," Harry said. "Or the village." People tended to ignore a lot when they were trying to save their home. Or their lives.

"The houses will be protected against fire as well." Hermione shook her head. "And magic would easily deal with fire. Unless it was Fiendfyre."

Harry shuddered at the thought. Fiendfyre. The cursed flames that would even burn stone. Eventually. Then his eyes widened. Hermione couldn't be thinking of using that, could she?

She scowled at him. "I don't know how to cast Fiendfyre. Who do you think I am?"

'A witch who learned a Sandpaper Hex to scare off people' would've been the wrong thing to say, Harry was certain. "You didn't even read up on it?" he asked.

"Only enough to learn that it was easy to cast but very, very difficult to control," she replied.

"Ah." That put her up one on Harry - he hadn't read up on Fiendfyre. Past recognising it so he could flee. But it meant that she could theoretically cast it. Fiendfyre in the village would be the perfect distraction - if you didn't mind killing dozens of people. He nodded.

Hermione nodded as well. "It's illegal in every civilised magical country. Which excludes a few wizarding enclaves in the New World."

He snorted. The New World - at least the "East Coast", as Mum called it - was rarely at peace. One or another enclave were always trying to attack or destroy a rival enclave. But that wasn't here or there. And neither was Fiendfyre.

Though Harry couldn't help thinking that Hermione hadn't said that she wouldn't try to cast it at all. If all was lost…

He shuddered again.

*****​

A diversion that would lure out most of the pirates - or most of the dangerous pirates - followed by a diversion for the pirates remaining in the village. Both lasting long enough for Harry and her to break into the prison, free the girl and escape with the fishing boat.

It was a tall order, Hermione Granger knew. "We could probably lure out the pirates if we faked an escape attempt with a raft - or multiple rafts. But it wouldn't take them long to check or sink all rafts. Not with the brooms they have."

"Yes. By the time we could reach the village, they would already have returned," Harry agreed. "Setting fire to the jungle might work - if we manage to rig up a sort of timer so we can sneak to the village before the diversion starts."

"But a fire can be dealt with easily," Hermione pointed out. "We would need either a lot of accelerants or multiple fires breaking out."

"Multiple fires breaking out in one place, one after the other, might make them think we're there, so they would try to hunt us down there." Harry nodded. "That might work."

"Until they find the timer. Which we haven't invented yet." Hermione might have a few ideas, but nothing concrete.

"Bowl, filled with water, and a small hole in the bottom, use a swimmer as a trigger?" Harry suggested.

"If we find a match that burns long enough for this to work, we could just use the match." Really, that was merely logical.

He frowned. "Right. But do we know how to make a match?"

"I don't know how to create a rope," she admitted. Another piece of knowledge missing from her repertoire. Crucial knowledge. "I made a candle once, but not from scratch."

"Ah. Well, we have a piece of rope," Harry pointed out. "If we experiment a little, we might get a match."

"There's not too much to experiment on," Hermione said. "And the rope might not burn evenly."

"Well, some differences would only add to the chaos." Harry grinned.

"Let's assume we manage to get fires going - we still would need some sort of accelerant, but we can probably do that dry wood, enlarged and cut to pieces - then we still would need a distraction at the village."

"Set it on fire?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "The buildings will be warded against fire."

He frowned again. "We don't know that."

"And we don't know how many children are in the village." They would be endangered by such arson.

"Their parents will save them," Harry said. "And a few fires would draw attention."

"It's still too dangerous," she objected.

"We could attack the ship with tree trunks, enlarged, dropped from a great height at night," Harry suggested. "Transfigure them into metal spikes, and they would make nice holes."

That had potential. And it wouldn't endanger innocents. However… "But it would mean everyone's attention was on the water. While we're trying to steal a fishing boat."

He muttered a curse under his breath. She frowned at him but shared the sentiment. "We need a fake danger, then, which will fool them," she said.

"Easier said than done. Without my supplies, whipping up something is hard." She saw him rub his chin. "Smoke would be ideal - hides us and makes them think there's a fire."

"And it can suffocate people. Which is a drawback," she replied. Suddenly, she frowned. "Fire might not be enough to attract them - they didn't react when we used smoke to conceal our escape from the wyvern."

"The smoke didn't rise too much in the air, I think," Harry said.

"But it should've been visible anyway," she countered. Her eyes widened. "Do you think that was what made them aware of our presence? Smoke, a hunting wyvern, and then nothing?"

He slowly nodded. "That might've been it. Then they would probably suspect that we killed the wyvern."

"Not necessarily," she told him. "They might think we escape the wyvern by fleeing to the village."

"That's possible - they certainly didn't start looking for us until last night."

"Perhaps they suspected, and when the dog started barking…"

"...they knew." He nodded. "But now that they know, smoke should attract them."

"Which makes this even more dangerous. If they know we sneaked into their village, they'll prepare for that. Traps, guards, dogs…"

"That's why we need a good distraction," he said.

"Easier said than done," she repeated his words at him.

"I know. But there has to be a way to keep them busy." He frowned.

She shook her head. "We can't have one part of an army feint…" She trailed off. "Oh."

"We can have an army. Conjured animals," he said. "Enlarged ones."

"Oh." That might work. A veritable swarm of enlarged birds. She smiled. "What kind of animals can you conjure?"

"Well, I know the Snufflifor's Spell," Harry said.

She blinked. "That's not conjuring animals, though, that's…" Her eyes widened. "Oh, that was the spell you used to transfigure my book into a mouse!" She glared at him.

"Sorry. But it works on rocks as well as on books." He flashed a smile at her,

She scowled at him. That spell was an abomination. Who could even think of turning books into vermin? And he had used it on her favourite book!

*****​

Harry Potter winced. That was a very familiar expression. A very unwelcome one as well. And one he hoped not to see aimed at him any more. "Sorry," he repeated himself.

She huffed. "To destroy books…" She shook her head with a deeper scowl.

"It's not too hard to restore them, though," he pointed out.

"Unless they ran away before you could target them."

"Well, that's a hazard, yes," he admitted.

Another huff. "Well, if you can transfigure rocks, you can create a plague of giant mice. But you can't control them. Unless you have another spell for that?"

Of course she would've read up on the spell. He shook his head. "I don't have any such spell. But a horde of giant mice will be a good distraction."

"Probably. Though we'll have to hope that they won't attack humans."

"Mice aren't predators," he said, frowning.

"You would be surprised how many herbivores eat meat if the prey is small enough," she replied. "But we'll have to count on the pirates being able to deal with them."

"We only need them occupied until we are underway," Harry said.

"That's a long time with the speed of that fishing boat. And if they catch up - which they'll be able to with brooms - we'll be at their mercy."

"We'll have to do it at night," he said. "That will make it easier to slip away in the confusion."

"We need to be prepared for alarm charms and traps at the prison."

He nodded in agreement. "Yes." After a moment, he added, with a slight grin: "So, what spells did you learn for next year that would inconvenience some pirates?"

"I didn't exactly plan to take on large numbers of enemies," she replied. "I had to prioritise."

"Ah." Of course she'd planned to take on Harry - even though that wouldn't work out. It never did. Well, it only worked out rarely. "So, what did you learn to take on me?"

"I had a plan, but I didn't get far before someone tackled me into a Portkey." She flashed her teeth at him. "Although I think the Glacier Hex might be useful."

He frowned - he wasn't familiar with that spell. "What does it do?"

"Covers the ground in ice. It'll melt quickly in this climate, but that will only make it more slippery for a while."

"Neat." He nodded, but it didn't sound like a very effective spell. Especially when facing wizards with brooms.

"What about you?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well…" Bragging about not missing would be gauche. "Most of the spells I learned were meant to, ah, target single targets, so to speak."

"Duellists use indirect attacks as well."

"Yes. But my godfather didn't want to teach me the better ones." Well, Sirius initially had wanted to teach him the Blasting Curse, but Mum had put her foot down - on Sirius's toes - and the whole thing had been cancelled. He sighed. "I guess we'll have to improvise."

"Yes. Perhaps if we combine the Water-Making Spell with the Glacier Hex?" Hermione speculated. "It's meant to cover the ground, but if we aim correctly, that should spread to water. If we have a puddle that's ankle-deep or deeper, it might catch attackers in it."

"Or we try casting it on a stream of water," Harry suggested. "The Water-Making Spell can produce quite the pressure, and if that were ice instead of water…"

"It's not a constant spell, unfortunately," Hermione said. "It wouldn't let you hose down an area with ice shards."

"But if we freeze the water and then cast a Reductor Curse on it, that should have a similar effect." Harry grinned.

Hermione frowned, then nodded. "It should. And we should go through our entire spell repertoire to see if we can find more such synergies."

Harry smiled. "Oh, yes."

*****​

The water froze, trapping the wooden logs in ice. One of them toppled over, cracking the ice at once.

Hermione Granger lowered her wand, then cocked her head and listened. She couldn't hear anything.

"Seems clear," Harry reported from the door.

She sighed. At the fact that after killing wyvern, they were back to regularly checking the sky - and the ground - for enemies. And at the fact that their idea about trapping enemies in ice wasn't working. Not yet, she corrected herself - she had to stay optimistic. They still had time to prepare for this.

But there was so much to do. She glanced at Harry, who was leaning against the rock blocking the door, which made his trousers draw tightly…

She shook her head. She couldn't afford the distractions. Or the memories of last night. And this morning. She had to focus. Focus on getting this plan to work so they could start on the next.

She filled the corner of the shelter with water again, spraying it liberally over the logs that served as stand-ins for people, then cast the Glacier Hex. Once more, the water froze, strands of ice reaching up - but they broke easily. At least none of the logs toppled this time. And when she pushed and pulled on the closest, they didn't break free as easily as before.

"You should come and work with me on this," she said.

"Someone has to keep an eye out."

"They would need to search the ground to spot us," she said. "And we don't have much time to get ready."

He hesitated a moment, then pulled back from the rock and turned to face her. "Alright." He twirled his wand as he joined her.

"Show-off," she whispered.

Harry grinned in return. "So… I create the water, you freeze, I blow it up?"

"Better don't cast a Reductor Curse," she replied. "The sound carries."

"Right." He nodded sharply. "Let's see what happens if I keep casting the Water-Making Spell while you freeze the area."

"Yes."

He started hosing the corner down with water. Hermione waited a moment, then started casting herself. A few seconds later, much stronger, thicker strands of ice crisscrossed the entire area.

Hermione nodded. "That can be worked with."

"But it won't stop anyone for long," Harry pointed out. "We need more water, and faster. Oh!" He grinned again. "What about we create water in advance?"

But that would require… Hermione blinked. "That would be effective, I believe." She smiled. "And we shouldn't limit ourselves to water in this case." There were so many things they could prepare with the spells they knew.

"No, we shouldn't." Harry matched her smile.

He was also standing very close to her, she noticed. For an underground shelter partially filled with melting ice, this was starting to feel hot. Very hot.

She licked her lips and swallowed. "So…"

"So?" He turned to look at her, and she saw him twitch a little. And wet his lips.

Then they were kissing, again.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 23: The Hunt

Outskirts of Brentwood, Essex, Britain, July 16th, 1996

Ten days. Ten days since Hermione and Potter had disappeared. Had been kidnapped.

Lavender Brown sighed, twirling her quill between her fingers, and leaned back in her chair. Then she glared at the sheet of parchment on her desk. Ten inches on the Switching Charm - who cared about a stupid charm when your best friend was missing? Who cared about a stupid charm, anyway?

Certainly not Lavender. The Switching Charm was just a prank spell. Used to switch out pumpkin juice with water or vinegar right before someone took a sip. It didn't really have any practical use, as her father was likely to say if she asked him about it. Well, you could probably use it to poison someone, but Lavender wasn't planning on doing that. And there were probably much better ways to poison someone than using this charm - you'd be left with part of the liquid you switched, the target might notice the spell being cast, and you had to be able to see the target.

So, even for a poisoning or a prank, the spell wasn't really a good idea, as Potter had found out in third year. Hermione had alerted McGonagall, and the teacher had caught Potter with a vial full of pumpkin juice labelled 'feathering potion' - the same potion found in Hermione's cup, which she, fortunately, hadn't drunk yet.

Lavender sighed again. Poor Hermione. Kidnapped - together with Potter. Or worse. Lavender closed her eyes and shook her head. Ron had insisted that the two were alive - but it had been ten days. Surely, any kidnapper would've contacted the Potters by now? Potter was famous, and his family was well-off or even rich - Daddy hadn't known when she had asked. Why hadn't anyone asked for a ransom yet?

Perhaps they had, and the family was keeping it quiet, to avoid endangering the negotiations?

But wouldn't Ron have told her? If he knew, of course…

She stood. Trying to do her assignment was pointless. She couldn't concentrate like this. Not with so many questions distracting her. She needed a distraction.

She left her room and went downstairs. Their fireplace was in the entrée. Which was a fancy word for a small entrance hall. Nothing as grand as the actual entrance halls in a manor, but better than having it in your living room, like the Weasleys.

She bit her lip, feeling guilty about her petty thoughts. Ron was a great wizard, and it wasn't his fault that his family was poor. Of course, if the Weasleys wanted, they could turn their corridor into an entrance hall with a few Extension Charms, but people would make fun of them - a house like the Burrow didn't have an entrance hall, after all. Just as Lavender's home didn't have an entrance hall, but an entrée.

It was important to keep such things in mind if you didn't want to be snubbed. Or worse - Lavender had heard rumours about what happened to wizards and witches who 'reached above their station', as it was called in the novels she read.

She stopped in front of the fireplace. Was this what had happened to Hermione and Potter? Potter was a half-blood, and his father was the Head Auror, but his mother was a muggleborn. Same as Hermione. And both witches weren't fond of Wizarding Britain's social structure. And they hadn't been shy about it, either - Lavender's parents had known about Potter's mum, and everyone in Hogwarts knew about Hermione's views.

Was this a way to strike at them? The Death Eaters were all dead or imprisoned, but Lavender knew that that didn't mean there were no bigots left - quite the contrary, actually, as Malfoy kept proving.

Did some Old Family have the two kidnapped?

Lavender bit her lip. It sounded stupid. Like the plot of a Roberta Randers novel. But… she couldn't help wondering if someone would do this.

She shook her head and drew her wand. A quick spell had the fireplace burning, and she threw a handful of Floo powder into it. "The Burrow!"

She would ask Ron about it.

"Yes?" she heard Ron's mum ask.

"It's me, Mrs Weasley, Lavender," she replied.

"Oh, Lavender. Call me Molly, dear!"

She pressed her lips together. Mrs Weasley kept telling her to call her Molly, but that would be far too… She shook her head. "Is Ron around? Can I come over?"

"Oh, yes, of course!"

Good. Lavender checked her appearance, cast a quick hairstyling charm, and stepped into the fire - and out of it, into the Burrow's living room. "Hello, Mrs Weasley," she greeted Ron's mum.

"Hello dear. Ron's on the Quidditch pitch."

"Thank you!"

She saw Ron on his broom as soon as she stepped through the back door. He was just flying around, not doing anything related to Quidditch training or doing any acrobatics. Well, not any real acrobatics. So, he probably was brooding - or 'clearing my head', as he'd call it.

Smiling, she walked towards the pitch. Which was, she couldn't help thinking, one of the only signs that the Weasleys were an old pureblood family. Not an Old Family, of course. But it was almost impossible to get permits for a private pitch these days - Dad had tried. Too many muggle aeroplanes or something was the official reason. Whether that was true or not, the fees and bribes were too high for Lavender's family.

Once she reached the pitch, she cast a quick Amplifying Charm and yelled. "Ron!"

He jerked on his broom, looking at the house, then down. As soon as he saw her, she waved, and he dived towards her.

Unlike the first time he had done this, on her second visit to the Burrow, she didn't scream and jump out of the way. Ron wasn't the demon on a broom that was Potter, but he was an excellent flyer and brought the broom to a stop right next to her. "Hello!" he said with a wide smile.

With him sitting on the broom, she just had to lean over to kiss him, so she did it.

"So… want to fly a little?" he asked after they ended the kiss.

Lavender nodded.

"The Cleansweep Three in the shed is good - Bill fixed the slight wobbling issue, so…"

She just mounted his broom behind him and hugged him.

"...or we can fly like this," he finished. "Hold on!"

She tightened her grip on him, and they took off.

They didn't talk much in the air. Just flew around, at a reasonable speed. Together.

*****​

The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, July 16th, 1996

"You said Bill fixed the Cleansweep Three?" Lavender asked later when Ron was putting the broom back into the shed.

"Yes."

"I thought he was in Egypt." Last she heard, Ron's oldest brother - who was married to Fleur Delacour, a Veela and Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion! - was working as a Curse-Breaker in the Valley of the Kings. They had married right after she had finished school, but that was normal for Curse-Breakers, Ron had told her.

"Ah, yes." Ron smiled in that slightly embarrassed way that meant he had done something wrong. "He visited a little while ago."

"You didn't mention that yesterday," Lavender pointed out.

Ron sighed. "I feel like Hagrid."

"Huh?" He felt like Professor Hagrid?

"I meant, I shouldn't have said that," Ron explained.

She blinked. "Oh. That was supposed to be a secret?"

"Sort of." He grimaced. "Please don't tell anyone."

"It's about Potter and Hermione, isn't it?" It had to be!

"Yes."

"Are they in Egypt? Or are they cursed? Trapped in a tomb?" She gasped at the thought.

"What? No. Well, we don't think so." Ron shook his head.

"So what do you think happened to Potter and Hermione?" She leaned forward and frowned at him.

"Well…" He looked towards the house. "This absolutely can't get out, OK?"

She nodded.

"We think that the Portkey belonged to a pirate. One working with the Barbary Coast pirates," Ron whispered.

Lavender gasped. "The Barbary Coast pirates? Oh, no!" That was… that was horrible! Everyone knew about the pirates and what they did to their captives!

"We're - well, the Potters and their friends, and Bill - are looking to contact the pirates," Ron went on.

"To ransom them back?"

"Yes." Ron nodded, but he looked...

"You don't think it'll work," she said.

"What? No, I just don't know…" Another sigh. "If the pirates want to ransom them, why didn't they contact the Potters already?"

Lavender pressed her lips together. That was a good question. Or a bad one. She had asked herself that, after all. The pirates had to know Potter - he was in all the newspapers! And they had to know that the Potters could pay a ransom! If they didn't want gold… She shook her head. If the pirates didn't even want to ransom Potter, then what about Hermione? Her family were muggles; they couldn't pay a ransom! That meant… She sniffled.

She felt Ron's arms around her, hugging her, when she started to cry.

"Bill's in Algiers, looking into things. Not alone, either. He knows what he's doing. And Fleur and her family are helping. This will work out," she heard him say.

But she didn't believe him. And she didn't think he believed it himself.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 16th, 1996

"Incendio!" Harry Potter whispered, pointing his wand down. A moment later, the enlarged piece of string on the ground started burning. It burned really well. And quite quickly.

"I think that wasn't slow enough," he commented as he extinguished the fire with a quick Water-Making Spell.

"I concur," Hermione agreed. "We would need far too much string to set a fuse that would let us travel forward before the fire starts."

"How did they make slow fuses?" Harry asked.

"Slow matches were treated with a chemical," she explained. "But I don't know which one - and even if I did, I probably wouldn't know how to obtain it."

He reached out and patted her shoulder - he knew how much she hated not knowing something that they needed. Or not knowing something, period. "Then we'll have to come up with a different timer."

"Or we find a way to start the fire from afar," she said.

"That'll be tricky," he told her. Harry knew that he had good aim, but the distance the distraction would require… He doubted that he'd be able to make it.

"Yes, I suppose so." She bit her lower lip. "Banishing wouldn't work, either. Although… Oh. I think I have an idea!"

"Yes?"

"Summoning. We make an iron ring and put an iron plate on it, above the fuel for the fire. Then we start a smaller fire on the plate. Then we can summon the plate, dropping the fire onto the fuel." She smiled. "Your Summoning Charm should work over quite the distance, right?"

Harry nodded. He wasn't quite sure how far he would manage - it had never come up - but it was probably their best option for their distraction.

"Good. I'll start making the iron rings and plates from the wood we have."

"I'll check the sky," he said.

"Careful."

"Always." He grinned at her, but as soon as he stepped outside the shelter, he grew serious. The pirates searching for them might have disillusioned themselves to avoid catching the wyvern's attention. He cast a Human-presence-revealing Spell, but that spell's range wouldn't help much with spotting a pirate on a broom. Worse, the pirates were almost certain to use the spell themselves, so if he could detect them, they could detect him. Especially if Harry climbed up into the jungle canopy above, to have a clear field of view of the airspace over the island.

Should he risk it? The pirates hadn't been disillusioned when they had been searching for them before, but that had been at night, and they were in a group. Dad had taught him that if you were in a group, disillusioning yourself was an invitation to catch friendly fire. Even the Human-presence-revealing Spell wouldn't help much there since there was no way to tell friend from foe if everyone was disillusioned. Mum kept planning to create a spell to deal with that but, so far, nothing had come of it. In any case, the light spells that the pirates had used would've given them away anyway. But they didn't need such spells during the day.

He looked up. There were a few gaps in the foliage above him, but they were small, and he was too far away, standing on the ground, to see anything but a tiny piece of the blue sky. And if he climbed or flew up, a floating marker would be visible above the canopy before he could detect anyone.

Instead of climbing up, he moved to the edge of the jungle. If he stayed under the trees, hidden in the underbrush, the spell's marker would be hidden under the canopy as well. And from the right spot, he should still be able to see part of the sky above the island, at least.

He told Hermione about his plans, assured her that he would be careful, and used the pole to fly towards the beach without leaving tracks a dog could find, though he had to fly above the underbrush for that.

And, once at the edge of the jungle, he had to hide on the ground anyway - there was no way around that. If the pirates brought a dog to this part of the shore… Well, Harry hoped that they could implement their plan before it came to that.

At least the part of the sky he could see from this spot was clear. So, either the pirates were still wondering about the wyvern, or they were disillusioned.

He hoped for the former. They needed more time to prepare their distraction. And their attack on the village.

Though even with more time, Harry was well aware that their chances wouldn't be good. But it was better than nothing. Better than being caught for certain.

*****​

Hermione Granger put her wand down and checked the plate she had just transfigured from wood into iron. It looked even enough - as it should, since she had checked it after carving it. Still, double-checking never hurt.

Satisfied, she put it on the stack with the others. Half a dozen plates, half a dozen rings - which looked like spring forms for baking, now that she thought of it.

Now all that was left was the tinder and kindling for the fire and wood for the slow-burning fire. The latter wasn't too hard - they had experience with burning wood now - but the former… if she could conjure paper, it would be far easier; parchment didn't catch fire as easily as dry paper. Although… she eyed her bed. The grass she used to pad it should be dry enough by now.

She checked and found she had been right. Perfect. Now she only needed kindling. And cutting wood into fine sticks and pieces wasn't hard.

Hermione was about done with enough kindling when Harry returned. "We need more grass!" she told him. "We need the current padding of our beds as tinder."

He blinked for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Also, unless we're ready this evening, we need to relocate, I think. We left a trail on foot back to the village, after all."

Hermione froze for a moment. "That was days old." Could a dog track them after days had passed? After it had rained?

"Do you want to take the risk?" Harry asked her, shaking his head as if he was anticipating her answer already

She sighed. "No, I don't."

"And no, you shouldn't have thought of that already." He smiled, but the words still stung.

No, not the words - her failure. "I should've thought of that," she said.

"I didn't think of it, either - and I have some experience with dogs."

"You have a dog at home?" she asked. He hadn't mentioned that before, had he?

"Sometimes."

"'Sometimes'? Do you dog-sit?"

"In a way. At least, that's what Mum calls it." He grinned.

She frowned at him. He was hiding something. Playing word games. And she didn't like it. "Stop twisting words."

"Sorry. A friend of the family visiting often means there's a dog in the house."

This was a very weird way to word it - Harry was still hiding something. For a moment, she thought about pushing him, but then she dropped the thought. They had more important things to worry about. "I don't think we can be ready tonight. We need to have the fires ready so we can start them right before the sun sets. Otherwise, the pirates won't see the smoke in the darkness. And we need to travel close to the village before we start as well."

He nodded. "And we can't start the fires too early, or we won't be able to hide in the darkness for our attack."

"Timing will be a challenge."

"Yes. So, we'll have to do it tomorrow."

Tomorrow? Hermione wanted to disagree. They needed more time to prepare. To test their devices. To plan and ponder. At least, that was what she was telling herself. But those were excuses. To start tomorrow meant just one day until they risked everything. Their freedom and their lives.

She nodded anyway. She might be afraid, but she wouldn't let that stop her. They had no choice, anyway - the pirates wouldn't delay their search for much longer. Unless they had already started. "You didn't see anyone, did you?" It was a stupid question; Harry wouldn't have been so calm if he had spotted a pirate.

He shook his head. "No. But if they're disillusioned…"

"We should still see their brooms unless they disillusioned those as well," she said.

"That would be hard," he told her.

"But not impossible." She was aware of the difficulty of disillusioning a broom - they had covered that when they had gone over the Disillusionment Charm; too many other spells interfered with the charm - but it had been done. Presumably, Aurors, or at least special teams, had access to such brooms.

"They don't need to use Disillusionment Charms; just colouring the things blue would help a lot."

She blinked. Right. Camouflage. Like aeroplanes. And with a simple Colour Change Charm, it would be easy to paint a broom the exact colour of the sky.

Harry was smiling, and she suppressed a scowl. She should've thought of that - she was the muggleborn, after all.

*****​

Harry Potter swished his wand and looked at the mound of grass at his feet. It looked large enough to replace the grass they'd use as tinder. Not that they'd be using beds, anyway - they'd be back to sleeping bags stuffed into a hole in the ground.

A sleeping bag stuffed into a hole in the ground, he corrected himself with a silly grin. If Hermione agreed, of course. Which he hoped she would. Even though she had looked annoyed before he left the shelter to gather the grass. Well, she looked cute even when she was annoyed, and she was annoyed pretty regularly, with herself or with him, so he better get used to it.

As he gathered the grass in his robes, he tried not to think about whether or not Hermione would stay with him after they got off the island. He had more important things to worry about - like the gang of pirates searching for them. Any moment, they could descend on them. If they were searching for them - they didn't seem to have searched for the French witch the wyvern had killed. Then again, the French witch hadn't killed the wyvern...

He looked at the sky, or what he could see of it through the thick cover of leaves and branches above them. The sun was setting in a bit. They had barely enough time to move to the south-eastern part of the island before night fell.

He entered the shelter. "Hermione? I've collected the grass."

She rose. "Good. I'm not quite finished with the kindling, but we can do that once we arrive in the area." She looked around. "We should vanish the furniture. That way, the pirates won't know how many of us are here once they find the shelter."

"Good idea," Harry agreed. "Or… We could add more beds. Make them think there's more of us."

"An entire group, stranded here?" She frowned a little. "Wouldn't that look suspicious?"

He shrugged in return. "How could they tell? And it won't tell them anything more than vanishing everything."

"They might suspect that we want them to think that there's more of us than us two," she pointed out.

"I don't think they'll think that far. But if they do, they probably would suspect us anyway." They must have found their hideout near the village, but if they thought that that was just a forward post or something...

"Let's at least vanish the cutlery."

"Yes."

They quickly made four more crude bed frames. Hermione dropped some strings from their robes - easily mended - and dried grass on the frames. "Just in case they check them thoroughly," she said.

"You think they'll investigate like Aurors?" Harry asked. Criminals rarely did, according to Dad.

"It can't hurt," she replied, sounding a little defensive.

"Right." He nodded. "But let's go now." He stepped outside.

The sun had almost set in the meantime - the sky was almost dark by now. That would slow them down. Then again, it would also slow down the pirates - if they even kept searching at night.

Harry grabbed the pole and held it out to her. "You fly!" he told her, smiling.

She huffed, but with a hint of a smile. "As usual."

"Yes. We should…" He trailed off. What was that?

"Harry?" Hermione whispered.

He held his finger in front of his lips and cocked his head. That had sounded like…

...the faint crack of a twig. Followed by a curse. From the direction of the beach. But far too close.

"They're here," he whispered.

Hermione gasped, her eyes wide, but a moment later, she flicked her wand, and the pole rose between them. "Let's go!"

He nodded. They had to leave at once. But… "Stay close to the ground at the start," he told her. "If we're too high, any markers from the Human-presence-revealing Spell will float above the canopy." But flying through the underbrush meant they would leave a track dogs could follow…

"East towards the hill, then we fly higher and head towards our destination," Hermione whispered as she mounted their improvised broom - she had understood his plan right away.

Good. He mounted the pole behind her, keeping his wand at the ready.

Another twig. Another curse. Closer this time. "Fly over the wyvern's grave," he whispered.

Without a word, she directed their ride towards the patch of earth covering the carcass. That might throw off the dogs. And maybe some of them would break through the top and end up impaled on the remaining spikes.

They're pirates, he told himself, they deserve it.

*****​

They had been stupid, wasting so much time after their first escape from the village, acting as if the pirates wouldn't find them for days! As if they had all the time in the world to prepare their plan! Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

Hermione Granger clenched her teeth at her own ineptitude as she guided the pole through the underbrush. At least this time, she had managed to cast a Shield Charm beforehand, so she wasn't leaving parts of her skin and clothes behind.

She flew them over the former spike trap, then turned east towards the hill. It was still too bright to risk breaking cover, so she kept flying through the underbrush, weaving between the trees barring their way. She still expected bright cones of light to stab at the ground, like before, and dogs barking in hot pursuit.

Neither happened, and they reached the edge of the jungle without seeing or hearing anyone. Had Harry been deceived by some animal? No, she had heard the cursing too, hadn't she? Or had that been her imagination?

She brought the pole to a stop, hovering inside a dense bush. "Did you see them? Did we lose them?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he replied.

She looked over her shoulder. They had left a pretty obvious trail of broken twigs and branches through the underbrush. But she couldn't spot anyone behind them. She craned her neck, looking up, but she couldn't see much through the branches and leaves above them, either. Although… Had that been something moving above them? Someone? Or was it just a bird? Or a figment of her imagination? "I think I saw something in the sky. I'm not sure, though," she whispered.

"What?" She felt Harry move. "I can't see anything."

"I didn't see what it was," she said. "But if it was a pirate searching for us…"

"They might have gone on," Harry said. "They must not know where we are, or they would be here already."

She bit her lower lip. They had thought that before.

"We should've prepared traps," Harry muttered behind her. "That would've delayed them."

"Only if they fell for them," she pointed out.

"Even if they see the traps before triggering them, they would have to proceed more cautiously because there might be more traps," he countered.

That was correct. Provided they were dealing with rational people and not reckless ones. "Do you think we lost them?" she asked. "Should we go up? If we're in range of a Human-presence-revealing Spell…"

She heard him curse. "If we stay here much longer, they'll find us for certain - and they'll be in range. Get us above the underbrush!"

She swallowed but did so, guiding the pole upwards until they had left the underbrush. Then she started to fly south, following the edge of the jungle, towards the south-eastern corner of the island. Just as planned. Maybe...

The canopy above them blew up. She shrieked as splinters bounced off her Shield Charm and a large branch barely missed them as it crashed into the underbrush below, but pulled the pole to the side, accelerating out of reflex.

"They found us!" Harry yelled.

As if in response, spells flew past them, hitting trees nearby and the ground below. One of the trees toppled, blown apart, and Hermione tilted the pole, barely evading the falling wood.

"Reducto!" she heard Harry yell, but the spells kept coming - there had to be several pirates behind them!

For a moment, the spells stopped - she must have broken the pirates' line of sight - and she quickly turned west.

A moment later, more of the jungle canopy exploded - behind them this time. No splinters reached her, but she heard Harry curse. "Faster!"

She gritted her teeth and focused on moving the pole faster. There was a thick tree ahead, which would provide…

Something hit her Shield Charm, and she felt her spell shatter, the force pushing her down - into the underbrush. Branches and twigs tore at her, and she closed her eyes, raising one arm to protect her face, urging the pole to the side.

"Stay low!" Harry yelled. "They're tracking us with their spells!"

Hermione shook her head but pushed on, crashing into a denser bush. She couldn't recast her Shield Charm and keep the Levitation Charm going. The next spell would hit her! If she didn't catch a thicker branch to the head before that.

She heard Harry cast more spells behind her while she forced the pole to fly west, then south in an attempt to lose their pursuit.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

*****​

Where were the bloody pirates? Harry Potter couldn't see any of them. There! A red spell - a Stunner? He couldn't tell - flashed by. He sent a Stunner back, but he didn't expect to hit anyone - the pirates were on real brooms, not levitated poles, and moving far too quickly to be hit.

Another part of the jungle canopy blew up, and he flinched as a bunch of splinters hit his Shield Charm. If any of them got past and hit Hermione… He quickly looked at her. She didn't seem to be hurt. Good.

Then he winced as they plunged into a particularly dense bush. Her Shield Charm was gone; this must hurt her.

He recast his own - he couldn't cast any spell at their pursuers if he couldn't even see the sky. Or the area behind them.

They couldn't escape like this, though. It was too bright - too easy to follow their trail. And if they flew too high, the markers from the damn Human-presence-revealing Spell would point at them.

And he didn't think they would last long enough until nightfall allowed them to lose the pirates in the darkness. They needed another plan. And it was up to him - Hermione was too busy flying them.

But he had no idea. He was a duellist, not an Auror. And Aurors generally chased criminals; they weren't chased themselves.

Think, Harry, think! What would Uncle Peter do? Fool them into chasing a decoy, transform into a rat and hide, of course. Just as he had told Harry once.

They couldn't transform into rats, but they could create a decoy. Probably. But they couldn't hide - the pirates' spells would find them.

They broke through a sort of hedge, and Hermione took a sharp turn to avoid a small clearing. Harry kept his wand trained on the sky. If he spotted someone... He gasped when a floating marker appeared overhead and sent a Stunner up without hesitating.

His curse hit - he saw the tell-tale signs of a Shield Charm shattering - but Hermione took them through another bush before he could follow up with another spell.

And the damned pirates blew up more of the jungle. They only cast the Blasting Curses at the trees above them, though - never at them. Even though a few such curses cast near them would talk them out.

The pirates obviously wanted to capture them. To interrogate them. And to...

He clenched his teeth. He wouldn't let them. He'd rather die.

If only the pirates would drop into the jungle to chase them. Harry could hit them then. Or drop some trees into their path. But they stayed in the sky, above the trees, chasing them. Herding them.

"We have to change course!" he snapped. "They're herding us."

Hermione didn't reply but she took another sharp turn, towards the beach. And back towards the shelter. That might buy them some time, But it wouldn't be enough - it was still too bright.

He just couldn't hit the pirates on their brooms. It was impossible to aim at disillusioned people moving that fast. And even if Sirius had taught him the Blasting Curse he would still have to hit something near a disillusioned enemy with it - and there was nothing in the sky to hit at all.

He blinked. Nothing - unless they put something up there. Hermione's birds! No - she couldn't cast another spell while guiding their ride. It was up to him. And he couldn't conjure birds. He could transfigure things into rats, but rats couldn't fly. He could…

Sirius's aiming exercises! Skeet casting, as his godfather had called it. It had been a while, but… it was their only hope.

He needed a projectile. Anything would do. The enemy would have to be very close to get caught in the explosion of a Reductor Curse, unlike a Blasting Curse's explosion, but it was all he could think of.

While Hermione circled around a batch of trees that had grown too close together to fly through them, he cast a cutting curse at the closest branch, then summoned it. A few more Cutting Curses netted him four roughly even pieces. He kept two jammed between his stomach and Hermione's back and took the other two in hand. "Fly closer to a hole in the canopy!" he snapped.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she snapped back. But she was turning towards the hill again.

Then another part of the canopy exploded behind them, and Hermione turned again.

Harry took a deep breath, then banished first one, then the other piece of wood through the hole in the canopy, into the sky.

And sent two Reductor Curses after them.

His first curse hit the piece and detonated. Harry saw the sparks of a shield shattering. Then his second curse hit, and he heard a scream. And something invisible crashed through the branches and leaves behind them.

"We've got one!" he yelled. "He crashed!"

"Should I turn around?" she asked.

Before he could answer, the canopy above them exploded, followed by the ground behind them.

"No!" he yelled.

The pirates weren't trying to capture them any more.

*****​

Hermione Granger clenched her teeth and held her breath, trying not to scream as the jungle around them seemed to disappear in explosions. How many pirates were there? A dozen? All of them?

And how could they escape them? She ducked her head, urging the pole to go faster, forcing her Levitation Charm to move more than ever.

It wouldn't be enough. Not nearly enough. Actual brooms were faster. She was just a student.

Another explosion, closer, showered her with clumps of earth. Mostly - something hit her arm, and she winced at the pain that followed. A quick glance showed her that it had only been a glancing blow - but one that left a bleeding tear in her skin.

She flew them under a toppled tree, through a bush that left more of her skin scratched and bleeding. She almost crashed into a rock, barely managing to veer off - which saved them since an explosion swallowed the area behind the rock a moment later.

They had to survive until the pirates couldn't see them in the night any more. And they wouldn't make it.

She was crying with frustration and fear as she flew around another massive tree. But the next explosions were further away. "They're casting blindly," she snapped.

"Yes," Harry replied. "We need to hide!"

But they couldn't hide. Not when the pirates were blowing up the jungle.

"We have to fake our death!" she said.

"How? We can't fake our bodies!"

"Temporarily!" Long enough to get away and hide for real.

"How?"

That was the question. And she couldn't plan while guiding the plank they were riding through the jungle. "Think of a way!" she snapped.

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder! And faster!"

She felt more than she heard him chuckle in response since the next explosion was closer than before. They're casting blindly, she reminded herself. It's just blind luck.

But luck would run out sooner or later. It always did. No one was lucky forever.

"Get us back to the hill!" Harry yelled.

She hesitated a moment. Then she turned around. They just had to be lucky. Any direction was as good as any other, with the pirates randomly casting Blasting Curses into the jungle.

"Incendio! Incendio! Incendio!"

"Are you setting the jungle on fire?" she yelped, weaving through three close trees.

"We need the smoke!"

That would likely render their planned distraction harder. She snorted against her will - as if that plan would work any more. They needed to survive this first, anyway!

She flew them towards the hill, taking a curved approach. Harry kept casting his spell.

"Stop! They'll be able to follow the smoke!"

"That's the idea!"

"What?"

"Just fly us towards the hill. And be ready to dig!"

To dig? Oh no! This was crazy. They'd die!

But she didn't have a better idea.

And the explosions were coming closer - and it was getting harder to avoid the holes in the jungle. They were running out of time.

She changed direction and flew straight towards the hill. "Almost there!"

"Alright! Accio torn branch!"

"You want me to dig a hole?"

"A cave, straight into the hillside! Then summon me once the smoke covers everything."

Her eyes widened. "No! You won't! No!"

But he had jumped off already.

She almost stopped and turned around. But he was counting on her to do her part. It was their only chance.

But if they survived this, she would make him suffer for sacrificing himself as bait once again!

Clenching her teeth, she guided the plank towards the hillside, staying inside the jungle. The last part… she needed cover for that. Smoke.

Behind her, more explosions tore up the jungle. And she heard Harry's voice, amplified.

"Get some, you bastards!"

Hermione started setting the jungle on fire as well, putting everything into her spells. If she was too slow…

She shook her head, tears running down her face as she prepared to rush towards the hillside.

Then she pointed her wand ahead at the hill.

"Evanesco!"

Behind her, she heard Harry's voice again.

"You'll never get us alive!"

Then an explosion swallowed everything.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 24: The Retreat

Algiers, Algeria, July 16th, 1996

"Ah. How much this city changes as soon as the sun sets!" Standing on the balcony of their room - their suite - Sirius Black took a deep breath of the cooling air outside. "The heat is almost bearable now!"

"Did you forget how to cast charms?" Peter asked from behind him.

"Of course I didn't!" Sirius replied, turning with a scoff to look at his friend, sat on the divan in the suite's salon. "It's the principle of the thing." And Padfoot couldn't cast spells even though his thick coat of fur was hell in this climate. The stray dogs they had seen probably didn't have the mange; they must have shed their fur voluntarily to battle the heat. "I taught Harry how to cast a Gentle Breeze, after all." Harry. His godson.

Sirius pressed his lips together and quickly strode towards the bar in the salon, filling a glass with what the hotel considered their best whisky. Which didn't come close to Firewhisky, of course, but you had to make amends for muggle hotels.

But it would be enough to take the edge off the reminder that his godson was missing for close to two weeks, without any notice.

Peter, as observant as ever, didn't comment but leaned back and looked at the sheets of parchment in his lap again. He wouldn't find anything new; he had been reading them for hours - ever since they had returned from Kateb's house.

Sirius finished his glass and sighed, then threw himself into the armchair facing Peter's divan with the kind of flamboyance his mother had hated. "I hate being stuck inside."

"Nothing keeps you from going outside," Peter replied without looking up.

"Other than the fact that I don't speak the language?" Sirius retorted, picking up a muggle magazine.

"You speak French."

"Magical Algiers doesn't speak French." It was a sports magazine. Since muggles didn't know about Quidditch, the only interesting parts were the pictures of the women in bikinis, and Sirius had seen better.

"You could've gone with William and Fleur," Peter pointed out.

Sirius scoffed. "You didn't. That means you don't think you could've been of use, and between us, you're the spy."

"You're the better duellist."

Well, of course Sirius was better in a fight - the Blacks had their reputation for a reason, after all, and that tradition wasn't amongst the parts that Sirius had dropped as soon as he had become the head of the family. "I am also not as good at spying and might endanger their disguise." They were posing as visitors from Egypt. Fleur might not speak Arabic as well as Bill, but as a woman, she wasn't expected to say much anyway in public. Unlike in private. Or something like that - Sirius didn't really understand those particular customs.

This time, Peter looked up with a surprised expression. "Self-awareness? Should I check for Polyjuice Potion?"

"Hahaha," Sirius retorted. "Don't give up your day job." That was an expression Harry had taught him. Sighing, he grabbed another glass.

"Don't drink too much; we still have dinner with another contact of William's," Peter told him.

Sirius glared at him but put the bottle down and grabbed a beer instead. "Let's hope this contact will be more useful," he spat between sips. Though Bill had said he didn't expect much.

"It's only been half a day; you can't expect Kateb to have found Harry and Miss Granger already."

"For the gold I paid him, I should expect results!" Sirius protested before sighing again. "I hate waiting."

"I think everyone who knows you knows that," Peter commented. He sounded a little testily himself, so he wasn't as stoic as he tried to appear, either.

Sirius grinned at that. It made his friend more… well, normal. He usually was such a 'cool customer', as Harry would say. The mysterious spy. The Wizard of Mystery. He sighed again, his brief amusement vanishing. "Do you think we'll find them?"

"Yes." Peter's response was a little too smooth. Too quick. And he wasn't looking at Sirius.

Damn.

"We've taught Harry well, haven't we? He should be able to… to handle everything," Sirius said.

"Within reason," Peter replied.

"And the girl's no slouch, either. She could keep up with Harry."

Peter didn't reply.

"What do you think?" Sirius asked.

Peter put the parchment down again. "Harry and Miss Granger get along with each other as well as we did with Snape," he said.

"That's different!" Sirius protested. "Snivellous was a Death Eater. This is just, well, a prank war."

Peter snorted. "Of course you'd think so."

Sirius frowned. What did his friend mean? This was a prank war. Nothing serious. Sirius should know - he had given Harry a number of ideas and some help for dealing with Harry's 'nemesis'.

All in good fun, of course.

*****​

Magical Algiers, Magical Algeria, July 16th, 1996

Amir Saidi's home, which appeared to be roughly the same size as Kateb's from the outside, looked quite modest on the inside, Sirius Black found. No, not modest - understated. The entrance hall he, Peter, Bill and Fleur entered was scarcely decorated, but the sculpture and the two tapestries that graced it were of exquisite quality, and the ornaments on the pillars and walls were… actually hiding runes, he noticed. Clever.

"Bill! Fleur! Welcome to my humble home!"

And their host was greeting them in person - a corpulent wizard with a wide smile walked towards them, his arms spread wide while the servant that had opened the door - a young man - withdrew through a side door.

"Amir." Bill nodded at the man with an easy smile. "Thank you for having us."

"Bonsoir," Fleur said as she removed the cloak and veil she had been wearing outside. Her smile was a little more restrained, in Sirius's opinion. "These are our friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew," she added, gesturing towards them. "Sirius, Peter - Amir Saidi."

"Be welcome as well!" Saidi nodded at them, his smile not wavering. "Come, come, you must be hungry. My cook has prepared a feast!"

He led them through a courtyard full of exotic plants - and so humid, it must have been covered with spells - and into another sparsely but finely decorated room. There a long but low table covered with dozens of plates carrying mounds of food of all sorts was waiting for them.

Obviously, the man was quite less restrained when it came to his food compared to his home decor. Well, his girth should have made that obvious.

"Sit, sit! And enjoy the meal!" Saidi sat at the head of the table, with Peter and Sirius taking one side and Fleur and Bill the other.

Unlike Kateb, Saidi didn't have any guards that Sirius could spot.

They started eating - the food was excellent although a little too exotic for Sirius's taste - while Saidi and Bill chatted about their time in Egypt, with Fleur occasionally commenting as well. That left Sirius and Peter mostly to laugh when their host told a funny anecdote or made a joke. Not that Peter minded, of course.

Though once everyone had had their fill, Saidi leaned forward, his hands on his knees, and his smile grew a little more eager. "So, please tell me what made you - finally - accept my invitation, after you kept refusing for years!" He nodded at Fleur. "It must be important for you to brave my home country."

"We're looking for two kidnapped children," Bill said.

"And you come to me?" Saidi seemed honestly surprised.

"We came for Kateb," Bill explained. "And since we were already in the city…" He shrugged with a smile.

"Ah." The wizard nodded. "He is good at that filthy business, though he'll fleece you like an unbound Djinn."

"We know that," Bill said.

"He already did," Sirius added with a scoff. "Fortunately, I am quite well-off."

Saidi narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't be a member of those Blacks, would you?"

"I see our reputation precedes me," Sirius replied, smiling and showing his teeth. "I'm the head of the family."

The man's eyebrows rose as he turned towards Bill. "You're travelling in different circles, my friend. I didn't know you were so highly connected - unless one of your relatives managed to win Mr Black's heart." He smiled at Fleur.

Sirius laughed at that, though Bill shook his head. "We have mutual friends."

Saidi tilted his head to the side. "Then this isn't about a raid on the French coast, as I thought." His eyes widened. "Young Mr Potter's disappearance?"

"You've heard of it?" Fleur asked.

"It was in the newspapers. Although there was nothing about my shadier compatriots being involved."

"That only came out recently and isn't common knowledge," Bill said.

"But who would be so daring as to raid Britain?" Saidi shook his head. "Everyone knows not to provoke Dumbledore!"

"Ah, Albus is a nice man if you get to know him," Sirius said with a smile. "Very forgiving - unless you cross lines no decent wizard would ever cross, of course."

"Of course." Saidi's smile grew more than a little forced. "And you hope to solve this… affair… amiably?"

Sirius leaned forward. "We will solve this affair by doing whatever is necessary to get my godson and Miss Granger back."

"I see." Saidi nodded. "Then it would be prudent for me to lend you my assistance for this endeavour."

Now it was Bill and Fleur's turn to frown. "I didn't think you were involved with pirates," Bill said.

"I'm not. But we might have mutual friends. Friends who are as aware as I am that provoking the wizard who cowed the Ottomans into action is not a good idea if you like to keep your business, home and life." Saidi nodded. "So, please tell me what you know about this affair."

*****​

Unknown Island, July 16th, 1996

"You won't get us alive!" Harry Potter yelled through his Ventriloquism Spell, centred on a small cove a bit away. Through the hole the pirates had blasted into the jungle's canopy, forming a small clearing, he could just barely see a marker moving towards the cove.

Then the whole cove blew up. Harry gasped and threw himself to the ground. A moment later, the shockwave hit, blasting him further into the jungle, shattering his shield and engulfing everything around him in dust and smoke.

He rolled over the roots and stones and through the underbrush. Branches tore at his skin and clothes - he barely managed to protect his face and glasses - before he crashed into something that didn't give way.

He hissed at the pain in his side. How could…? Gritting his teeth, he looked around, coughing in the smoke and dust cloud. A tree trunk had stopped him. He was deeper in the jungle - his marker wouldn't be visible from above. Not in the smoke cloud, anyway. But that wouldn't stop the pirates from blasting the rest of the trees to splinters.

Unless they had taken the bait and thought that they had killed Harry and Hermione. Another explosion told him they hadn't been fooled. Or just wanted to make sure that they got them. He needed to get out. But if Hermione summoned him now, the pirates might spot him. He hoped she wouldn't do it anyway.

Damn. He couldn't see the pirates through the smoke and trees. There was only one thing he could do.

He gritted his teeth and got up. He recast his Shield Charm before pointing his wand at the next bunch of trees. "Incendio!"

More fires. More smoke. A Bubble-Head Charm let him breathe without coughing. His ribs still hurt each time he inhaled.

But it might make the pirates think that Harry and Hermione were dead. If he transfigured some wood into mice and enlarged them… no. Blood wouldn't last in the fire, and he would have to vanish the bodies to keep from giving the game away.

Another explosion, closer than he liked. Had they spotted him? It was pretty dark now, and with all the smoke…

The next explosion blew him off his feet, but his shield held - until he hit a rock. He recast the Shield Charm at once, then rolled around. Still inside the jungle, but…

...the pirates were opening the canopy, then casting at the ground now, toppling trees and razing the jungle. And they were closing in on him.

He took a deep breath. If he ran out of the jungle, sending curses at them, screaming about avenging Hermione… they might think she was dead. And if they killed him… They might not look for her. He licked his lips - the heat from the fires was telling. It could work. And it was better than getting blown up here. And…

He felt the tug at his trousers and gasped before he was pulled through the bush, towards the hill. No! Hermione was summoning him!

He twisted his body, looking around. If the pirates saw him… But everything was covered in smoke. And the sky was dark.

And he was flying towards a huge fire! Gasping, he managed to cast a Water-Making Spell, turning the stream of water on himself, then, at the last moment, on the fire in front of him.

The flames still burned. For a moment. Then he was through - and flying towards the hill. He clenched his teeth. This would hurt.

A second later, he hit the ground, and his breath was knocked out of him. He coughed as he felt hands grab him.

"Get inside!"

Hermione. He scrambled, kicking at the ground as she pulled him into a small hole. Cave.

"Hermione!"

"Shh!" she snapped. "I need to cover the entrance!"

He blinked, groaning with each breath, as she did something to the entrance, and, suddenly, it was dark. "I can't cast a Wand-Lighting Charm. They would notice," she said. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'm fiugh," he spat as her hand brushed over his side.

"Ribs."

"YesARGH." He felt her poke him.

"Only one side. I think I can deal with that."

"You think?" He didn't laugh. That would hurt.

"I think I should let you die for the stunt you pulled! Sacrificing yourself, you bloody idiot!" she spat in a low voice.

"Shh! They might hear!"

"Not unless you scream," she retorted.

"You just said…" he started to object.

"Shut up!"

He heard her sob and he shut up.

*****​

Hermione Granger stifled. She couldn't cry. Not now. Not when Harry - the bloody idiot! - was hurt, and pirates were looking for them. Looking for them by burning down and blowing up the entire jungle!

She had to keep it together. She couldn't break down, or they were lost.

Shuddering, she took a deep breath. Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the darkness, but she couldn't cast a Wand-Lighting Charm to see in the hole she had created. Not with a makeshift cover hiding the entrance that would let the light shine through.

Perhaps if she managed a very dim light… but she had never tried that. And this wasn't the moment to experiment.

"Hold still," she hissed when she felt Harry move. The idiot was hurt - probably broken ribs; bruised at the very least - and shouldn't move at all. Certainly not after being summoned and dragged through the jungle.

Dear Lord, he had to be hurt worse than she had thought! If a rib had pierced his lung… No, he would be coughing blood in that case, wouldn't he?

She couldn't tell. But his ribs hurt. Damn it. If she healed them like that… She bit her lower lip. Hard. First things first.

"Episkey!" she whispered, pointing her wand at him. Dealing with the cuts and lacerations wouldn't do harm. "Episkey! Episkey!"

"Thanks."

She pressed her lips together. "Can you breathe without… tasting blood?"

"Yes."

That had come quickly. But Harry wouldn't be lying to her, would he? "Then your ribs probably aren't buried in your lung," she said.

"I think I'd notice that."

She scoffed. "You probably wouldn't notice a missing arm until you tried to pick up your wand."

He chuckled at that, then groaned.

Served him right! She clenched her teeth. How could he have done this? Sacrificing himself - again! - without telling her?

"Can you heal broken bones?"

"I know the spell," she replied in a whisper.

"Never tried it?"

She pressed her lips together. "I never had the opportunity to practice it."

"Well, now you have the chance."

And without a teacher or Healer to correct her mistakes. If she did this wrong… she could cripple him. "I take it you don't know the spell, then?"

"Sirius taught me the spell, but Mum wouldn't let me practice it."

"On yourself?" she gasped.

"On animals."

"Oh." That was… if she conjured an animal, she could practice the spell. But without light, she wouldn't be able to check if she had cast it correctly. And to hurt animals, even conjured ones, like that...

"Just do it. I trust you."

She felt herself briefly smiling at that. "Alright." She took a deep breath and pointed her wand at him. This would need her complete focus. She couldn't afford any mistake - the consequences would be... She closed her eyes, took another deep breath and forced herself to relax her jaws.

"Brackium Emendo!"

Harry groaned again, and she felt as if her heart skipped a beat. Had she failed? Crippled him? Killed him? "Harry?"

"Ah… that feels good."

Relief filled her. Then annoyance. She should break his ribs again to worry her like this! Pressing her lips together, she probed his side with her free hand. "Does this hurt?"

"No, it doesn't."

"And this?" She pinched his side.

He hissed in return.

"Just testing if your nerves are working," she told him. It wasn't actually a lie. Theoretically, she could've just numbed his side instead of healing his ribs.

"Right." He didn't sound as if he believed her.

"I can't do anything about any burns you might have," she told him.

"I should be fine. I managed to cast a Water-Making Spell before you dragged me through the flames."

She glared at him, even though he couldn't see her face. That had been his idea! Although… "So, you mean wet yourself?"

He chuckled. "I guess I deserved that."

"Yes," she told him. "You do."

"Sorry."

She hesitated. She wanted to lay into him. The memory of seeing him disappear in the jungle - in the burning jungle… She clenched her teeth. "Don't do it again, or I'll kill you myself."

He chuckled again. "I won't."

"Good."

She felt him reach out, hugging her, and she returned the hug. It made her feel safe. Safer - the pirates were still out there. She could hear the distant sound of an explosion. But the way she had dug the cave, straight into a steep hillside, any Human-presence-revealing Spells the pirates cast wouldn't detect them - or, rather, the markers wouldn't be visible. For now, they were safe.

She slowly started to relax in his arms.

Though she didn't believe that he wouldn't pull such a suicidal stunt again. Not really. She was certain that he would try to sacrifice himself if he thought that it was the only way. That was how the idiot worked.

She would have to make sure that wouldn't happen. Even if she had to sacrifice herself.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 17th, 1996

Harry Potter had Hermione in his arms. And her hair in his face, tickling his nose. And smelling like smoke and ashes. Or that might be him - the Bubble-Head Charm was great to keep a stench out, but if you were stinking... He snorted. The leg she was mostly resting on was all pins and needles, but that was a small price to hold her, feel her breath, her heartbeat.

He was happier than he had felt in a long time. They were alive. The pirates hadn't found them. Hadn't killed them. Or caught them.

He twisted his neck, trying to get a good look at the entrance of the small cave Hermione had dug. It was still dark - no light shone through the small slits Hermione had left in the lid she had created for air circulation and to check their surroundings. Which meant the sun hadn't yet risen. Which meant they had to get up.

"Hey, Hermione," he whispered.

She didn't react. Didn't even shift or make some amusing noise. He shook her - gently. "Wake up, Hermione. We need to go."

This time, he felt her tense, then try to sit up, but he held her. "Shhh. The pirates might be outside," he whispered as he felt her go for her wand.

She stiffened, then relaxed a little. "Alright," she replied in a whisper, squirming in his arms until she was on her belly - and his tingling leg - and staring through the closest slit. "It's dark outside. I don't see flames or fire, but there's a sort of glow a little away."

He followed her example, rubbing his leg as he took a closer look himself. She was right. "The fire must have spread and burnt out here."

"Good. That means we can hide in the darkness."

Unless the pirates had found them and were just waiting for them to crawl out of their cave… no. They could've easily taken them in the cave - they would've been trapped. "Where are we going? To the southeast or towards the village?"

"Southeast is the obvious choice, so the pirates will expect us to head there. Unless they think we died."

"Best not count on being so lucky," he replied. "We might have exhausted our luck surviving yesterday."

"You surely did," she said.

He winced. She hadn't taken his plan well - but there hadn't been time to explain and discuss it. And Harry had had the best chances to make it out - Hermione had the experience for digging a hole and summoning him, and Harry had the combat experience. Well, the duelling and Quidditch experience. But it was better than nothing. Although Hermione had flown their improvised ride quite proficiently. Once they were home, he would have to encourage her to try out for the team. Although she probably would need some training with a real broom. He could give her some private lessons! Help her pick a decent broom - maybe buy her a used one as a gift, or ask Sirius...

Harry blinked. "The broom," he whispered.

"What? Did you spot a broom?" Hermione gasped.

"No. But I got one of the pirates. Made him crash. When he was chasing us," he explained.

"Oh."

She didn't get it. "He crashed, and his broom went down in the jungle. Close to nightfall. In the middle of our battle."

"Of the chase," she corrected him.

He ignored the remark. It had been a battle. "They must have recovered him. But they would've done so hastily, so they wouldn't risk getting cursed by us. And they will have taken him back to the village."

"Oh. You think they forgot the broom?"

"Yes." A real broom - and a decent one!

"Even if they did, it might've burned in the fires," she pointed out.

"Only one way to find out." He flashed a smile even though she wouldn't see it in the darkness and tried to imagine the broom he had caught a glimpse of during the battle. "Accio downed broom!"

He cast the spell as well as he could. He focused on the image of the broom. The broom that had to be out there - the pirates wouldn't have been able to recover it, not in the chaotic battle. And afterwards… no, it had to be there. Had to be in range. He closed his eyes and concentrated. On the broom. On the spell.

Hermione didn't say anything. Wouldn't distract him.

Was this a tug? Did his wand twitch? Did he have to recast the spell? The broom couldn't be too far - he had summoned things from further away. Like coconuts. Harry had…

Something hit the lid with a dull sound, and both of them gasped. "Something..." Hermione started to say.

"It's the broom!" he whispered. It had to be. That was how the charm worked.

"What if it's a trap?" she asked.

"Then we're done for anyway," he replied. "But we can't leave the broom outside."

He opened the lid.

And smiled at the broom lying just outside the cave. It looked a little singed, but it was still whole. Harry could almost feel the broom's desire to fly again. Properly now.

"Now we've got a broom!"

*****​

Hermione Granger smiled despite their situation. A real broom! With working enchantments - she wouldn't have to guide a levitated pole or plank through the jungle any more! With a broom, they would be faster and more mobile - even with two people on it.

"Up!" Harry held out his hand, and the broom jumped into it.

"We need to get away as long as it's still dark," she whispered.

"Yes. Do you think we can fly through the wards with this?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "The wards on the village? Unless they need an amulet to pass through the protections, yes. Otherwise, using brooms would be very impractical. They would have to land at a gate or similar rallying spot and enter through it. But the wards on the island?" She grimaced.

"Too easy for a prisoner to escape and steal a broom?" Harry asked.

She bit her lower lip. The pirates hadn't chased the escaped French witch. So they must have been confident that she wouldn't escape the island. Not by swimming or flying - if she was a Veela. Although… "Do we want to risk it?" It was an option. They might have enchanted the brooms to work like the fishing boats. And should anyone attack them, the ability to pass through the wards, back and forth, would be a great tactical advantage. But…

"As a last resort?" Harry looked grim as well.

She nodded. If it didn't work, then the protections on the island would probably be nasty. And even a Stunner would be dangerous, even fatal, if you fell from a great height into the sea. Or if your Bubble-Head Charm ended before you woke up… She shuddered at the thought.

Harry took a deep breath. "Let's go then. Southeast. The hill will help block their line of sight."

"Yes."

They scrambled out of the hole, and Hermione put the lid back up, concealing their makeshift hideout. Better not to leave obvious tracks and examples of their tactics.

"Mount!" Harry was already straddling the broom.

She climbed up behind him, wrapping her arms around him. And suppressed a sigh when she pressed herself into his warm back.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

And they were off. Despite being weighed down by two people, the broom sped up quickly - and it was faster than a Hogwarts school broom. Quite fast, Hermione noticed as Harry flew close to the ground.

"Watch out!" she hissed when she saw that they were flying straight towards a fallen, burned trunk.

"I've seen it," he hissed back - but he kept going straight towards the trunk.

She gasped when he, seemingly at the last moment, pulled up to go over the trunk, only to hug the ground again. "Do you have to fly so low?"

"Yes! Just in case they have someone higher in the air."

"Would they really fly too high to see a floating marker?" Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's waist.

"Never know - every little bit helps!"

That sounded like something Oliver Wood would say. Hermione clenched her teeth and managed not to yelp when Harry rolled the broom to the side to pass underneath a tree canopy that was resting on a broken stump of a tree.

Harry on a broom was a maniac.

Then again, facing an entire pirate crew, they needed every little bit of help that they could get.

Oh, dear Lord! She was starting to think like him!

At least no curses rained down on them - and, as she kept glancing around, she saw no markers from her own Human-presence-revealing Spell appear. "We should be in the clear," she whispered.

"Better safe than sorry," he replied. And kept going at a breakneck speed.

They were now leaving the burned and shredded parts of the jungle. "Don't go into the jungle!" she hissed. At this speed, and in the darkness, they would ram into a tree in no time.

"What do you think I am, crazy?" he replied.

"Yes?"

She felt more than she heard him chuckle as he hugged the jungle's edge, flying between trees, bushes and the hillside. Still no pirates in the air or on the ground. And they were putting the hill between them and the village now.

But the sun was also starting to rise.

"We need a shelter soon," she whispered.

"I know… hillside?"

She bit her lower lip. The same hideout as before? It had worked, but would it work twice? But the island wasn't small - what were the odds of the pirates finding them without tracks for the dogs to follow? The sections of the hill suitable for digging horizontally into weren't that common, though. Still… It was probably the best they could do. "Yes."

They flew a little longer, but as the sky started to get brighter and a reddish glow appeared in the east, they found a steep part of the hillside, and Hermione began at once to vanish the earth and stones to create another cave.

Harry kept an eye on the sky while she worked. "As I thought, the broom's been painted in camouflage."

And on the broom, it appeared. She almost scolded him but gritted her teeth instead. Harry should know what he was doing - he hadn't let them down yet. Unlike herself, a small, ugly voice in the back of her head added as she finished the cave and started to look for a lid.

"Oh, right." She sighed. "We need to get some coconuts for food, again."

Harry muttered a curse.

She nodded in agreement with the sentiment. She was heartily sick of the things. But needs must - they couldn't fish or hunt with the pirates aware of their presence. "See any?"

"I'll be right back," he replied, mounting the broom and speeding away before she could answer.

Shaking her head, she pulled a piece of wood out from her pocket and enlarged it, then cut a few slits into it before starting to stick plants, rocks and earth on it.

Harry returned with two coconuts before she was finished. "I plucked them while flying, he said. "No tracks on the ground."

"Good." That would, or so she hoped, stop the dogs from finding them. She looked up. The sky was more blue than dark now. "Let's go hide."

They entered the cave - they had to crawl into it, but she had made the interior a little larger.

"Will that hold?" Harry asked, looking at the ceiling.

"I've used some wood turned into metal to strengthen it," she told him.

"But will it hold?" he repeated himself.

She bit her lower lip. "I hope," she said after a moment. "I don't know - this isn't a shelter with a thin roof."

He slowly nodded. "Guess we'll have to chance it."

"Yes."

He sat against the wall and held out one of the coconuts. "Bon appetit."

"You'll have to eat as well," she said.

"I know."

"Good." She nodded, then cut the nut open. "Do you want a sip?"

Harry shuddered, and she emptied the coconut on the ground before vanishing the milk and cutting the meat up.

She took a bite, grimaced and gave Harry his share.

*****​

"What now?"

Harry Potter put his… breakfast? - down and looked at her. "We've got a broom," he told her. "That means we have more options."

"We still have to break into the prison. And if we don't want to risk just flying through the wards - and that's risky - we still have to steal a fishing boat - from the beach of the village," she pointed out.

"But with the broom, we can set fire to the jungle here and quickly reach the village," he retorted.

"That only works if the fire serves as a distraction in the first place," she said. "And since they set fire to the jungle first, they might not be concerned enough about another fire to arrive in force."

He sighed. She was right. "Then we need a better distraction."

"Do you have an idea?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. But it needs to be convincing and urgent enough to draw a large part of the pirates away. Our planned distractions in the village itself should still work." Dropping enlarged spikes on the ship should draw attention. As should a horde of giant mice in the village.

She nodded. "But they won't really help us sneak into the prison undetected. Not with the entire crew in the village."

"Since they were so quick to set fire to the jungle, setting fire to the village wouldn't work, I think," Harry said. "Not that we would do that, of course.," he added quickly when he saw her expression.

She shook her head. "We should fake an escape attempt," she suggested. "If they monitor the wards, they should react."

"That's dangerous," he said. And crazy - they had no idea how lethal the wards were. But if they were a couple centuries old...

"Yes. But if the wards are just tied to a stunning curse or something similar, then I can take it, you drag me away and wake me up, and we move to the village while they search the sea," she suggested.

He stared at her. Was she suicidal? "And if it's not a Stunner?"

She pressed her lips together.

He frowned. "Would you let me test it?" he asked.

The glare he received in return told him enough.

"I guess that means no self-sacrificing plans." He grinned at her frowning expression.

"That goes for both of us," she spat.

"Of course." He wouldn't let her sacrifice herself.

She sighed. "We still need a distraction."

He mulled it over. Fire wouldn't work - not when the pirates used it so… enthusiastically. "What if we lay a fake track… lure them on a chase through the jungle? Add traps?"

He saw her purse her lips as she thought it over. "That might work - unless they just start setting the area on fire."

"If they do, then that should occupy them for a while," he replied.

"But they know we can fly - they saw us escape on the plank."

"Yes. But they found us with dogs," he retorted.

"The first time. They might've spotted tracks at the beach the second time. We weren't quite as careful when we thought we only had to worry about the wyvern. And will they chase after us at night or wait until daylight, when they have the advantage?" She cocked her head to the side as she tore into his plan.

He clenched his teeth for a moment. "If we can't rely on that, then we need to use one of us as bait." He looked straight at her. "On a broom, I can lead them on a chase. Draw them away from the village. If I start dropping spikes on the ship, they're bound to react."

She got it at once - he saw her glare at him. "You want me to sneak into the village and free the girl, then steal the fishing boat."

"Yes."

"And what about you?" She crossed her arms. "I'm not going to leave without you."

"I can circle around, lose them, and rush back to the village." He met her eyes.

She shook her head. "We need a better plan. We can't coordinate if we split up. I could be stuck in the prison, dealing with some protection, when you're coming back. Or we need to leave, and you're still being chased. It won't work."

It would be hers - and the girl's - best chance. Harry could try to flee with the broom afterwards, chance going through the wards. But the way she glared at him, he better not mention that. "Then I lead them away, lose them, and return, and then we enter the prison."

She slowly nodded.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 25: The Lure

Algiers, Algeria, July 17th, 1996

From the balcony of their suite, Fleur Weasley could see the slight shimmering effect that the spells that hid Magical Algiers in the middle of the muggle city had if you stared at the borders between the magical and muggle quarters. The spells that hid this festering boil.

She hated Magical Algiers. She didn't mind the heat - Egypt was, on balance, worse, and she spent a lot of time in the Valley of the Kings there. The architecture was similar as well - not surprisingly, of course, since both Egypt and Algeria were, if only nominally these days, under the control of the Ottoman Empire.

But where Egypt was a slightly backwater area, its claim to fame being the tombs of the pharaohs, attracting both tomb raiders and Curse-Breakers as well as the odd historian or two, Algiers was the centre of the Barbary Coast. Pirates from all over North Africa sailed here to sell their ill-gotten loot. And deal in slaves.

Slaves they kidnapped all over the Mediterranean, sometimes even from as far as the Atlantic Coast of Iberia and France. Wizards and witches, often children since those could be more easily caught and kept by the pirate scum.

And by their clients in the Ottoman Empire, the Sultan first amongst them. Fleur didn't believe for a second that the Sultan had stopped purchasing slaves kidnapped abroad, as his father had promised after Dumbledore had all but stormed his palace decades ago. The Ottomans had merely become a little more discreet, the raids of the pirates a little less frequent. But the Ottomans couldn't rely on their own country to supply their Janissaries and harems. Not with their Empire's provinces becoming more and more independent, unwilling to sell their children to Constantinople's markets.

Which left raiding Europe's coasts for slaves - a trade the Barbary Coast pirates had gladly engaged in for centuries, the increased danger after Grindelwald's War balanced by the increased profits.

She clenched her teeth at the thought of people taken from their homes and families, sold as if they were animals. Magical Algiers had a known slave market, all but doing their filthy business in public! Relatives of hers had been sold there! Just a few years ago, her family had driven off a pirate raid that had struck too close to the Château d'Aigle. If Gabrielle had been outside, far from her home…

She wanted to burn down the entire town hidden by magic. Salt the earth so the pirates would get the message. Clenching her teeth, she felt her anger grow hotter and closed her eyes. She couldn't transform. Not here. Not in muggle Algiers. And certainly not in Magical Algiers.

"Fleur?"

She blinked, then turned, a smile appearing on her face. "Beel." Her anger receded - as usual when she saw her Bill.

He put a tray down on the small table on the balcony. "Room service."

"Ah." She sat down and filled a cup with black coffee, then grabbed a croissant. Bill must have ordered - it was her preferred style. "You could've ordered an English breakfast," she told him. While she wasn't a fan of it, Bill had grown up with it.

He grinned. "Mum will feed us breakfast every day after this."

Fleur nodded. Her mother-in-law was a great if unfortunately very English cook. Fleur had made some inroads with more French dishes at family gatherings, but it was mostly limited to desserts.

"We'll find them," Bill whispered as he buttered a croissant of his own.

"Yes," she replied, though she wasn't convinced. Usually, the Barbary Coast pirates gave the British Isles a wide berth, unwilling to provoke Dumbledore, but that didn't mean British wizards and witches were perfectly safe. Sometimes, they were caught in raids on vacation, sometimes a pirate crew got greedy or too bold or simply made a mistake. And as long as no one knew who had done the deed… Who could say that the newest Janissary in training had been British, after Obliviation and a False Memory Spell? It wasn't as if even Dumbledore could inspect every harem or barrack in Constantinople. But if the victim was too prominent, if the consequences seemed too dangerous…

Who would ever know if a victim was killed and the body vanished without a trace?

No, the muggleborn girl, Miss Granger, could easily disappear into a harem or the Janissaries. But Harry Potter? Son of the Potters? Godson of Sirius Black? Personal friends of Dumbledore?

Fleur hadn't said anything, but they all knew that there was a chance that Harry was dead and vanished already.

Not that this would stop them. They would find the scum responsible. And they would save Harry - or avenge him.

*****​

Fleur Weasley once again checked if her cloak was concealing her face and form before entering Magical Algiers through the door hidden inside an arc. A few spells made sure it couldn't accidentally reveal her, but in light of the trouble being recognised, either as the Triwizard Champion of Beauxbatons or simply as a Veela, could cause in the middle of Algiers, she would rather be safe than sorry.

And having to do something helped with her frustration at the whole situation. "We should burn the whole cesspit down," she whispered.

Bill snorted, but Pettigrew shot her a glare. "Don't even joke about this!"

She glared back. "Who said I was joking?"

"It was a joke," Bill stepped in before the spy could say anything else. "We're all a little on edge."

She switched targets and scowled at Bill. She didn't need him to handle Pettigrew. Or make excuses for her; she could stand on her own.

He smiled in return, though she saw him wince a little for a moment.

"Well, in my opinion, the city could only be improved if a few sections of it burned down," Black said with a toothy grin.

"Sirius…" Pettigrew hissed.

"I know, I know, anti-fire wards will prevent this from happening despite our best efforts, and Fiendfyre would get the ICW after us," Black replied, sighing theatrically. "And we'd risk retaliation and blah blah. But a wizard can dream, can't he?"

Fleur nodded. She knew all the arguments - had heard them before several times. Though she also knew that the ICW cared only for the statute of secrecy. If only Dumbledore were willing…

"Let's go," Pettigrew hissed.

"Right, right!" Black stepped through the veiled gate with a smile on his face. Fleur, Bill and Pettigrew followed.

And they were in Magical Algiers. Fleur clenched her teeth and hunched over a little. They were here for Harry Potter, she reminded herself. And Miss Granger. Not to root out the pirate scum.

Not yet, at least.

They made their way through the bazaar, where Fleur kept some of the riff-raff from pulling on her sleeves - and possibly trying to pick her pockets - by drawing her wand.

"Don't buy anything, Sirius," Pettigrew muttered.

"Don't worry, I don't need anything… although this brooch looks nice, doesn't it?"

"Sirius!"

Fleur gritted her teeth. This wasn't the time for jokes.

Fortunately, they reached Amir's home without incident. The wizard was as congenial as last evening as he welcomed them, even though it was noon now. Fleur almost liked the man - he was a shrewd merchant and a deft hand with his wand in a scuffle, as he had proven in an encounter with bandits, but to live in Magical Algiers…

"Come in, come in! Have a seat! I've got good news!"

She perked up. Good news? Amir was quick to embellish, of course, but he wouldn't lie about good news.

"You found Harry?" Black blurted out.

Amir laughed in return as a servant served tea and coffee. "Unfortunately, no. But I might have a clue." The wizard smiled. "I took the liberty of spreading the rumours of Dumbledore being personally involved in the search for Mr Potter and looking at this town as a possible location of interest."

"And?" Black frowned.

"He's trying to smoke out the pirates who might feel guilty," Pettigrew explained.

"Exactly!" Amir grinned again. "And I am happy to report that as soon as I talked to my good friend Karim, the proud owner of the best café in Algiers, several wizards who make their living at sea, so to speak, left the café post haste. Karim wasn't happy, of course, but he understood that such grave news should be shared."

"Several pirates fled? Can we track them all?" Bill asked.

"We don't have to track them," Amir said. "We merely need to track the waves they make."

"Waves?" Black asked again.

"Not literally," Pettigrew cut in. "The effects on their suppliers and partners. If they leave Algiers earlier than planned, this will show up in changed orders amongst the merchants trading with pirates."

"Indeed!" Amir almost clapped his hand. "And I have friends in the right places. Coupled with my information about which crews were in port, I think there'll be interesting tracks to investigate."

Fleur knew that expression. "You already have a suspect."

Amir nodded. "Khalil Haddad. He is a middleman for the Ottomans. He has missed two appointments this morning - one with the Bey."

"And that proves he is involved?" Black didn't seem to think so. But he didn't look like he'd shy away from pursuing the matter, either.

"No. But he is quite likely to know about the status of various crews," Amir explained. "And if he is getting worried, then some of his contacts must be worried already."

"We need to have a word with the man, then," Black said.

"I can make the arrangements," Amir said.

"Don't stick out your neck too far," Bill told him.

"Oh, this isn't a risk - anyone can see that I'm helping to keep Dumbledore from paying our fair city a visit." Amir's smile widened. "And many will realise that, should anything happen to me, the likelihood of such a visit will increase."

Fleur nodded. She couldn't say whether or not that was true - but the wizards of Algiers would assume so since that was how things worked here. The strong and powerful protected or avenged their clients.

But she knew about Haddad. The man handled both ransoms and slave trading. She almost wished he'd attack them.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 17th, 1996

Afternoon. It was far from sunset, but noon was past. Hermione Granger could see the shadows on the ground slowly growing longer again. In a few hours, they would have to move out and start their attack.

She sighed. She wasn't happy with the plan that she and Harry had come up with, but she hadn't been able to think of a better one. And she'd had enough time to consider the matter in the time they had spent waiting - resting according to Harry - since morning. Even counting the hours she had spent napping.

To wait while the idiot risked his life luring the pirates away, betting on his - admittedly considerable - talent on a broom to lose them and return… she didn't like it. Not at all. But any alternative she had thought of - ambush the pursuit somehow, join Harry on the broom to send curses at the chasing pirates - was a worse plan.

She'd even considered abandoning the kidnapped girl and just taking the fishing boat and heading out, but… the pirates would realise that they were compromised, and they would flee and take the girl with them, or, even worse, kill her and vanish the body to hide any evidence of their crime.

Neither she nor Harry would be able to live with that. They had to save the girl.

Even though their plan was too optimistic for Hermione's taste. At least there was a chance that Harry would damage the ship enough for the fishing boats to be needed to support it, which should make it easier to steal one - or board one, to be technical.

She grinned. The thought of going pirate on the pirates had a certain charm to it. But then she reminded herself that they would have to fight pirates to take their boat, and any good humour vanished. They were students - admittedly, talented students if she said so herself - but they were facing experienced adult wizards. Pirates who had preyed on the shores of Europe all their lives. Harry's duelling experience and 'special training' by his godfather wouldn't help much, and Hermione, as much as she loathed to admit it, was worse at duelling than Harry.

Their only chance was to be sneaky. At least they had experience with that. In theory, having surprise on their side and the ability to pick the time and location for their attack should help. A lot, according to the books Hermione had read. But…

It wouldn't be the first time that a plan that had looked perfect failed when she had tried to implement it.

On the other hand, she didn't think their plan was perfect at all, so, perhaps… No! That was superstition. Things didn't work that way.

A small, weak part of her whispered that she should just hide. Keep hiding until someone saved her. Or surrender. They might ransom her, instead of…

She clenched her teeth and buried that part of her. She wouldn't hide and depend on others. She wouldn't abandon Harry or the girl. She would do her part. As well as she could.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up from where she was sitting in their small cave. Harry, sitting at the entrance, peering through the slits in the lid covering it, was looking at her. "You looked deep in thought."

She shrugged. "Just thinking of ways to improve our plan," she half-lied.

He nodded. "We've got our work cut out for us." With a smile, he added: "But we'll manage. They won't expect two fugitives to attack their stronghold. Not after we had to run from them."

That was because it seemed like a foolish idea. But she didn't say so. She nodded instead - thinking they would fail would cause them to fail. At least in Harry's case; Hermione was a little more realistic. But she wouldn't drag down Harry's mood either way.

He slid over to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Trust me. We can do this."

"I don't doubt that," she said. They certainly could do it. With a lot of luck.

"But you're worried."

She glared at him. "You better be worried as well! This is dangerous." And he had the most dangerous part!

"I know. But we can do it. We've got a decent plan. And they won't expect us." He flashed her a grin. "And we can hurt them. Damage or even sink their ship."

She nodded. Even if everything went wrong, and she really didn't want to think about that, they would have taken some - admittedly small - revenge.

She leaned into him, wrapping her own arm around him. Sliding a little into his lap. Until she was facing him.

And their lips met.

*****​

Harry Potter sighed - softly; he didn't want to wake Hermione napping in his arms - and looked at the ray of sunlight shining through the slit in the lid. The sun was going down. They still had an hour or so left until sunset. A little longer until it was sufficiently dark.

He would have to colour the broom black - no, dark grey, probably - for it, he reminded himself. And his clothes as well. He might even smear some ash on his skin.

He sighed again. He hadn't told Hermione, of course, but he was worried. Their plan was dangerous. It was difficult to hit a wizard on a fast broom, even more so at night, but it wasn't impossible - you just had to be lucky. Or unlucky, in this case. If Harry just had to escape, he wouldn't be worried. But he had to lure the pirates away. That meant making them think they could catch him.

And that meant he would have to stay in sight, in range of their spells for quite some time. The pirates would have a lot of opportunities to be lucky.

He closed his eyes. Hermione probably knew it, anyway - earlier, when they had done it again, she had felt a little…. desperate. Just a little too… as if this was the last time they could be together.

No, he told himself. This wouldn't be the last time. They would beat the pirates, escape the island and return home. With the broom, this was assured as soon as they passed through the wards - all they had to do then was to fly east until they hit land. Mum and Dad would find them. Probably before they reached the coast.

Then they would be home. Back with their friends and family. Back… He clenched his teeth. Things would change. They wouldn't be alone again. Not just the two of them, on an island, any more.

What if this was just stress? Just…

He gently squeezed Hermione.

He didn't want it to be. He didn't want things to return to normal. What they had been before. He wanted to…

He clenched his teeth. He almost wanted to stay on the island with Hermione.

No. That was foolish and selfish. And stupid.

They would get away. And get back home.

*****​

An hour later, the sun had set and Harry Potter finished colouring the broom and his clothes dark grey. Mostly.

"You might have to slightly recolour them depending on how cloudy it is," Hermione told him.

"This is for evading over the jungle," he explained. "Not for hovering above the ship." She was about to open her mouth, and he grinned. "And no, once they start hunting me, I won't have the time to recolour anything on the fly - or flight."

Hermione frowned, then nodded. "I'm still not happy with your plan to evade them."

Harry smiled as confidently as he could manage at her. "It'll work." He doubted that the pirates would be able or willing to chase him into the jungle. "And it worked before."

"A levitated plank can't go nearly as fast as this broom," she reminded him. "Don't go all out," she added with narrowed eyes.

"I won't." Unless he had no choice.

She didn't seem to be convinced. "If you fly into a tree or rock in the darkness…"

"I won't," he repeated himself.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"You better not," she whispered, taking a step towards him to hug him. "Or I'll kill you myself."

He snorted almost against his will as he hugged her back, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed and his face pressed into her shoulder and her hair.

"Let's get ready," she said after a while. "Before it gets too dark."

"Alright," he agreed, releasing her - and resisting the urge to hug her again.

"Do you have the spikes?" she asked.

He bit back on a sarcastic comment - Hermione was just nervous. "Yes," he said, patting the robe serving as an improvised pack. "Shrunken and turned to lead."

"Good." She nodded, seemed to hesitate, but then turned away and went to check the cave for anything they might have left behind.

He sighed and watched her, in her shorts and top, another improvised robe-pack slung over her shoulders. If only…

She returned. "The cave's clear. All that remains is camouflage."

"Right." He nodded and grabbed the ash they had prepared. It's like sun lotion, he told himself as he got ready to smear the stuff on himself - and on the parts of Hermione's skin she couldn't reach.

And there was a lot of skin on her to be covered.

*****​

Hermione Granger felt dirty. Literally. Her arms and legs and midriff, most of her back and even her face - everything was covered in sticky ash, smeared all over her. She wanted to cast a dozen cleaning charms to get rid of it. At the least.

But since she couldn't cast a Disillusionment Charm or had access to an invisibility cloak, this was the best they could do for camouflage. And they needed every advantage they could get.

At least putting the stuff on had been… enjoyable. When Harry had done it. And she had done it for Harry.

She sighed. She had to focus - she couldn't dwell on fantasies. They were on the way to the pirate village already. Sitting on the broom, behind Harry, she could see the dim lights of their target. "Set us down a little away," she said.

"I know," Harry replied. Well, he should - they had gone over that. But it was better to verify than to assume anything. Especially when it was a matter of life or death. Which attacking a pirate village most certainly was.

She clenched her teeth and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. They had to do this - this was their only chance to escape. That didn't make it any easier, of course. She wanted to close her eyes, hug Harry, forget about everything else and just fly on, to freedom.

But that was impossible. Instead, she studied the village as they approached. The lights looked like during their first visit. Did the pirates think that they had killed Harry and Hermione and were back to normal? Or was that a trap? The ship looked the same as well. Could the pirates really burn down half the island and just keep going on as usual in the village?

It was possible. Would they expect the same people who ran from them and barely escaped to attack them? Probably not. But they didn't know for sure.

They would find out soon, of course. The hard way.

Harry set down about a hundred yards from the edge of the jungle, at the foot of a slight ridge. "This will serve as a landmark," he said.

So he could find her quickly when he returned - every second would count. She nodded. "I'll watch from the ridge." It wasn't perfect - she could only observe half the village, the other half hidden by the trees - but she would have the ship and the prison in view.

"Alright."

They stared at each other for a moment, Harry on the broom, Hermione standing on the ground. She could barely make out his face in the dim light, but it was enough. She leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back. She shivered. If this was the last kiss they ever shared… No! They would make it. They had to.

Then she broke the kiss and pulled back, licking her lips as she stared at him again. "Don't…" She trailed off. 'Don't die' was a stupid thing to say. "Don't take too many risks," she said instead.

He nodded, flashing a grin. "Don't worry."

She scoffed - once. Of course she'd worry. And he had to know it. Just as she knew that the idiot was going to take risks.

He nodded, then shot into the air on his broom.

And Hermione cautiously climbed on top of the ridge to look at the village in front of her - the parts she could observe, at least. In a couple of buildings, the lights were still on, but not on the ship. Would Harry be able to hit it from high in the air? It was a big, stationary target, she reminded herself. And Harry could hover.

She looked at the prison. That building was also dark - if anyone was present, other than the prisoner, then they would be asleep. Or laying in ambush, she suddenly thought, clenching her teeth. She had to keep that in mind when breaking the girl out.

The tavern - the presumed tavern - was busy, though. That didn't seem to indicate an ambush. Unless the pirates were counting on that… She scoffed again. Trying to second-guess the pirates would lead her nowhere. Besides, once Harry started dropping their giant spikes on the pirate ship, any ambushers would probably surge out of their hiding spots and give chase.

That was the plan, after all.

The fishing boat was at its usual place. Good. That would've been embarrassing to miss halfway through the night. But… was that shadow near it someone walking towards it? Or past it?

Past it, she realised as the figure passed a spot of light on the road. Good. Now… how much longer until Harry started dropping the spikes?

She tried to spot him, but it was too far, and the sky too dark.

Exactly as planned, she told herself to try and bury her annoyance. And her worry.

This has to work, she told herself again even as she bit her lower lips, fretting. This will work.

*****​

Harry Potter took a deep breath and looked down again. The tiny dark shadow that was the pirate ship was directly beneath him. Well, almost. He nudged his broom forward a little, then turned it towards the village and backed off a yard… one more. Yes.

Now he was directly above the ship.

He licked his lips briefly. This was it. This wasn't a duel. Or hallway fight. This was it. Once he started his attack, he - they - would be committed. Do or die. Literally.

He took another breath and swallowed. Could he do this? Did he have an alternative? He shook his head. No choice but to go forward.

Clenching his teeth and holding his breath, he reached into his pack and pulled out one of the shrunk spikes. This would be tricky.

"Finite!" he whispered, and the spike grew to the size of a small tree trunk, slipping out of his hand at once. He flicked his wand.

"Engorgio!"

Halfway to the ship, the spike massively grew. A second later, it hit the ship's deck - he heard the crashing noise it made as it slammed into - and hopefully through - the wooden planks.

Harry released his breath and grabbed the next spike.

"Finite. Engorgio."

"Finite. Engorgio."

"Finite. Engorgio."

Three more spikes fell, two hitting the ship, one getting deflected by the mast and splashing into the water, before he heard the first shouts.

The pirates had noticed the attack.

Clenching his teeth, he grabbed the next spike.

"Finite. Engorgio."

Another miss. He cursed under his breath and moved the broom forward, then banked to the side.

"Finite. Engorgio."

This one hit. Was the ship tilting to the side? Three spikes had gone into the right side of the deck.

"Finite. Engorgio."

Something - someone - was moving below. Pirates on brooms.

"Finite. Engorgio."

A spell flew up towards him - no, too far away. No prob…

It exploded in a bright flash of light, and Harry cursed as he shielded his face with his hand. What the…?

He blinked. He was almost blinded. No. He still had some spikes left. But he couldn't see the ship below. But the pirates wouldn't be able to see him, either. So...

Another spell rose from below. He closed his eyes at once. Even so, he could tell when the spell went off - it was so bright.

He glanced down - he was still above the pirate ship.

"Finite. Engorgio."

Another spike hit the ship. Harry blinked again - yes, the ship was tilting to the side; he could tell from the mast.

Six spikes left. That would be…

He took the broom into a dive, barely evading a yellow curse flying past him. They had seen him. A green curse flew overhead as he banked to the side. Other spells followed. He should keep his altitude, but more curses flew towards him - and this broom wasn't as good at climbing as his own.

He needed speed, and that meant more diving. Gritting his teeth, he banked again, then dipped down once more, spiralling downwards like a struck plane.

At mast height, he pulled out of his dive and pulled to the left, passing the ship's stern. He pointed his wand at the ship. "Reducto!"

The spell hit the hull and exploded, but Harry had to bank to the right before he could see if it had done any damage - the pirates were chasing him now.

He pulled up slightly, two red curses passing below him, and then turned left, circling around the ship. Two more Reductor Curses hit the ship, and he thought he saw splinters fly through the air in the light cones from the pirates' spells on the ship and in the air.

Half a dozen pirates were on their brooms now - at least - and three more were on the deck, all sending curses at him whenever they caught sight of him. Or when they thought so; he could see a few curses veering wildly into the night, not even near him. And even when they caught him in a cone of light, he was too fast to get hit.

But that wasn't a good thing - he couldn't lead them away like that; they would abandon the chase too soon.

Gritting his teeth, he turned left again, then shot straight up. One curse almost hit his shield, two more went wide.

He drew a hissing breath, then reached into his pack again while rolling to throw off their aim.

"Finite. Engorgio."

He didn't check if he hit - he kept climbing. If he sunk the ship, that should make the pirates mad enough to…

Another blinding light went off near him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, weaving back and forth randomly while his eyes were useless. How did the pirates avoid blinding their own with that spell?

Panting, he levelled out, still flying as fast as he could in random patterns. Where were the pirates on their brooms?

Another light went off - above him. He cocked his head, grimacing, and glanced up, squinting at the blinding light.

And saw six curses flying straight at him from above.

Harry rolled and veered sharply to the right, dodging the volley of curses, but they kept coming.

And the light hadn't gone out. How was that possible?

More curses flew at him. One clipped his Shield Charm.

He pulled on his broom and turned sharply to the left, then started climbing.

How could they see him and not be blinded by that bright light? He could barely look up without seeing stars!

He weaved, dipped and veered, curses missing him left and right as he climbed higher and higher. Another one hit his shield, shattering it. He was too close to the pirates, then.

Harry dove down again, recasting the Shield Charm, then pulled up as sharply as before. That threw off the pirates' aim again, and he gained more altitude. He just had to get above the pirates and...

It was a searchlight, he realised. A magical one - like the spells they had used the night before, just even more powerful. No wonder the pirates weren't blinded! They could just keep shining that light on him and follow up with curses.

Not even climbing higher than the pirates would help.

He gasped - what was he thinking? This was perfect! He wanted them to chase him, didn't he? And with that, they would be able to.

Baring his teeth, he entered a dive, rolling and weaving as he shot towards the ship.

Not that it mattered now. Harry had to lure the pirates away; that was all that counted.

The water below him grew closer. He ignored the curses flying by and focused on the sea. It was just like a Wronski Feint - if he mistimed his flight, he would crash.

He wouldn't. He was the best Seeker in England in decades.

Almost.

A green curse missed him by what felt by inches. He kept going down.

A brown curse flew by, hitting the water below.

Almost.

A yellow-purple spell went wide.

Now! He pulled on the broom's shaft with all his strength, pushing up. He was still going down, though, and the water was growing even bigger. He wouldn't… he would!

He pulled the broom out of the dive and into level flight a moment before he would have crashed into the sea - his shoes hit the top of a wave, almost throwing him off the broom.

Yes!

He clenched his teeth, elation filling him for a moment, as he flew on - straight towards the pirate ship. This wasn't Quidditch; no one was trying to get a snitch.

But they were trying to get him. And if they were as focused on him as an opposing Seeker…

He pulled the broom up some more, clearing the ship's railing by a foot at most, and shot across its deck in a split second.

When the spells which missed him hit the ship, he was already in the clear. He pulled to the left again, looking back for a moment, and grinned at the sight of the struck ship covered in smoke.

He wanted to cast an Amplifying Charm and yell 'Gotcha!', but the cone of light from that searchlight spell caught him again. He immediately jinked to the right, then climbed up and pulled to the left again as a new barrage of curses flew past him.

More than six, he thought. And with the one casting the searchlight spell… still not enough. They needed a dozen gone, at least. And they were close again. If they got too close, they would have a much easier time hitting him.

Scoffing, he pulled up, over, then corkscrewed down and swung around, making another run at the ship, which had lost its mast by now. He weaved left and right, the waves behind him churning with the impact of more curses, as he lined up the broom.

Then curses flew at him from the ship, coming far closer than the ones sent at him by pirates on brooms. He cursed as he jinked, only to have his shield shatter once more when a Cutting Curse slashed into it.

Harry bent over the shaft, feeling the heat as a bolt of fire flew over his head, and pressed on. He rolled, jinking back and forth, as spells from above, behind and the front crisscrossed around him. Another curse barely missed him - no time to recast his shield now - before he flew across the deck of the ship again, and more spells from the chasing pirates slammed into the hull.

Hah!

He pulled up and to the left again, recasting his Shield Charm, and started to climb up some more to get a better picture of the situation.

He didn't manage. Two cones of light caught him, and far too many curses followed, forcing him into desperate evasive flying.

It was too much - he had to escape now. No, lure them away.

He gritted his teeth and dived once more, levelling out at the last moment, then shot towards the village. A barrage of red curses - Stunners, probably - followed him, with one yellowish curse splashing against the house closest to him - someone still hadn't wised up to his plan. Or they just didn't care about others.

He passed overhead - a few more curses went up from the ground, but not many - and then hugged the earth as he flew towards the jungle.

As soon as he left the village, the curses rained down again - the pirates were still chasing him. Though none of the pursuers had managed to catch up to him, he noted. And this looked like a dozen. Plus two with searchlight spells.

Good. Now all Harry had to do was survive until they were far enough from the island, then lose them while making them think he had gone to ground there before returning to Hermione.

That shouldn't be too…

The jungle in front of him blew up as half a dozen curses struck the treeline, pelting his shield with fragments and splinters. One hit the broom, and he had to struggle to keep from crashing.

"That's my tactic!" he snapped through clenched teeth. "Bloody copycats!"

That meant he had to either fly high enough that the enemies wouldn't be able to hit the trees to cover him with splinters - or low enough they couldn't see him in the jungle.

There was no choice - he had to lure them away. And he couldn't cross the ridge where Hermione was hiding, or she might be caught in a blast. Or by a stray curse.

Scoffing, he climbed to double the jungle canopy's height as a dozen curses flew after him.

"Let's see how good you really are in the air!"

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 26: The Prison Break Part 1

Magical Algiers, Magical Algeria, July 17th, 1996

Sirius Black scoffed as he looked at the small manor in front of him. Unlike others, Khalil Haddad obviously lacked any style. The building was gaudy, the decorative ornament overdone, and the whole house felt cramped - as if one had forced a far larger palace into a space too small for it. "We should just break in," he said. "Grab the man and question him."

Peter, as expected, sighed. "The palace's protections are too strong, Sirius."

"We've got two Curse-Breakers and you," Sirius retorted. "And it's not a palace." Palaces were bigger.

"The wards are too strong to bypass, much less take down, quickly enough to avoid notice," Bill cut in.

"Oui," Fleur, of course, chimed in. "While I would love taking down this fils de putain, we can't do it."

"Well, not without more preparations," Bill added.

"Oh?" Sirius perked up. "Do you need gold?"

"Time, mostly," Bill said.

"It's not practicable," Peter pointed out. "Let's talk to the man and see if we can get what we want without starting a war."

"It wouldn't be a war." Sirius scoffed. "The Bey would disavow the man in a heartbeat if it meant avoiding a visit from Dumbledore."

Peter, the spoilsport, shook his head. "The Bey can't afford to show too much weakness. And if we attacked Haddad unprovoked, then he can't let that go. And Dumbledore can't be seen to bail out raiders just because they're British. And French," he added with a nod towards Fleur. "That would weaken his stance against raids in general."

"Pirate raids and punitive raids aren't the same!" Fleur protested.

Sirius nodded in agreement.

"We don't even know if Haddad is involved in anything that would justify a punitive raid - at least in the eyes of the ICW," Peter retorted.

"He's dealing with slavery and kidnappers," Fleur pointed out. "And he buys slaves for the Ottomans."

"Which is legal here, in the Ottoman Empire," Peter told her.

Sirius scoffed. "Kidnapping isn't legal, though."

"That's harder to prove. Which is why the pirates are so nervous. And why we need to be a little more careful, so the pirates won't panic and make Harry and Miss Granger disappear."

Sirius sighed. Peter, as usual when it concerned such shady things, had made a compelling argument. "We can still hope that Haddad will attack us."

Fleur nodded emphatically.

"Let's go then! It's already late!" Sirius exclaimed.

"It's not really late - not for Algiers. This is when much of the business is being done," Bill said. "It's cooler in the evening."

Sirius scoffed. "That's what cooling charms are for."

"Those are a relatively new invention - people here lived for centuries without them," Bill replied.

"As my dear unlamented mother proved, blindly following tradition is a recipe for disaster." Sirius shook his head. "Anyway, let's go!" Bill and Fleur's friend had arranged a meeting for them, after all.

He strode off towards the door. He was a Black, and that meant something.

Behind him, Peter sighed. He was such a worrywart. It came with being a spy - all that hiding and sneaking around wasn't good for you. Sometimes, all you needed was a quick wand and a quicker curse.

*****​

Haddad's manor was as gaudily decorated inside as its outside led one to expect. It made the guards - and there were plenty of those; Sirius Black had counted four in the entrance hall and two more that escorted them to Haddad's salon - stand out. Not the best strategy, unless it was just a feint, and the wizard had more subtle defences. That was how the Blacks used to do it - as mother had been fond to say, it was the hidden curse that got you.

Or they were fresh hires and hadn't had time to adapt.

"Good evening."

And their 'gracious host' was very nervous. It could be an act, but… Sirius didn't think so. What would the man gain by acting as if he were nervous? Was he trying to lure them into attacking him? That would be a little too obvious - no one would fall for such an obvious trap.

"Good evening, Mr Haddad. Thank you for your invitation." Sirius bowed - in the British manner. He was a Black, after all.

"I could hardly refuse a request from such illustrious people, could I?" Haddad laughed, but it sounded fake. Could he really have been shaken so much by the rumours of Dumbledore planning a visit? He was involved in the slave trade, yes, but was there more behind this?

Sirius smiled and leaned forward a little, eyeing the four visible guards - and looking for additional traps and guards. Perhaps the servants or slaves bringing refreshments were more than they appeared to be?

While Bill talked about the weather, because you couldn't just come to the point in Magical Algiers even in the midst of a crisis, Sirius studied them. They didn't look like assassins just waiting to curse him and his friends - but then, assassins rarely did. But they also didn't look like slaves kept in line with threats, punishment or spells. On the other hand, Haddad wouldn't risk being embarrassed by a slave. Certainly not when he had visitors from Britain and France in the middle of a rather delicate diplomatic situation.

Slaves or assassins? Or both, like the Janissaries? Haddad might not be the official representative of the Sultan, but he certainly had quite some influence at court, and at least the unofficial protection of the Sublime Porte, the government of the Empire, thanks to his services in procuring slaves. It would stand to reason that he might be protected by slaves raised from childhood to serve as guards.

So, if negotiations failed, who should Sirius take out first? The visible guards or the slaves? He couldn't just kill the slaves, of course. Even if they might be assassins. Killing slaves would be… They were here to save people, not to kill slaves who didn't know better.

Stunners for the slaves before they could react, then the guards. Who might be slaves as well, of course, but you had to draw the line somewhere, and Sirius preferred to draw it where people wielded wands against him in service of a slaver without being under a spell.

Besides, Fleur would burn the guards at the first chance, and Bill would help her. Peter would secure Haddad.

"...and yes, the tea is excellent, Mr Haddad," Bill said, lifting his cup with a smile that almost looked sincere.

"I had it imported directly from the Burgher Kingdom," Haddad replied. He didn't look as nervous as he had been at the start. Perhaps there was something to this idle chatting.

"Part of Ceylon," Peter whispered as if Sirius hadn't known that - he might not care for his family's views on muggleborns, but mother had taught him all about tea. Still, he inclined his head as if he were impressed.

Fleur, of course, sniffed, showing she wasn't impressed - then again, she was French and preferred coffee, so her taste in tea wasn't exactly relevant.

Haddad might have noticed her mood, though, since he cleared his throat. "But enough of my meagre efforts as a host. You come to me in the middle of a delicate situation. There might be a lot of misunderstandings. Possible misunderstandings."

Sirius grinned. "You mean about Dumbledore's favourite students - my godson amongst them - having been kidnapped by pirates based in your country?"

Haddad's face froze in a fake smile. "That is one of the misunderstandings I mentioned."

"We know that the Portkey that took them led to the hideout of a gang of pirates from the Barbary Coast," Sirius told him.

"That, ah, might have been the case when the Portkey was created, perhaps."

"'Perhaps'?" Sirius didn't think the man was merely speculating.

"The Ottoman Empire, as you certainly know, doesn't condone piracy. Hence, those unscrupulous criminals have left our country and taken up hiding in other countries while they ply their despicable trade."

"Such as kidnapping children whom you then buy for your friends in Constantinople," Sirius said.

"I would never be party to enslaving kidnapping victims. That would break the Law of the Sultan." Haddad's claim wouldn't have fooled a muggle under a Confundus Charm.

Sirius showed his teeth. "Dumbledore would really like to have all his students at Hogwarts when school starts again."

The Ottoman wizard twitched. "I see. And when would that be?"

"September First."

"Ah." Haddad nodded. "Quite the concern. Although I can assure you that I haven't heard of any, ah, attempts to pass on British students as, ah, natives."

Sirius sighed. "Let's stop playing games. Which band of pirates has my godson and his friend?" He ignored Peter's whispered 'Sirius!' and Bill's sudden, hissing breath. "You know something."

"I can assure you that I don't know anything about this." Haddad shook his head, but he was sweating now. And the guards had tensed. As had the two slaves ready to refill their cups, but then, that was to be expected whether they were assassins or not.

"Do you really want to risk Dumbledore taking charge of this himself? You would make a great scapegoat for your 'friends' at home. A slaver who acted without the Sultan's knowledge, broke the law…" Sirius shrugged. "Whatever favours you are owed wouldn't be enough to risk another visit of the Vanquisher of Grindelwald, would it?"

Haddad stared at him for a moment.

Sirius had his wand in hand, twirling it as if he were merely idling. But a flick would send a Stunner at the closest slave, followed by a nastier curse at the guard behind her. And he could almost feel Fleur's rage burning brighter.

Then their host sighed. "I may have heard some rumours about a band of criminals having... difficulties."

Sirius blinked. What did he mean?

*****​

Unknown Island, July 17th, 1996

Hermine Granger bit her lower lip so hard, she expected to taste blood any moment. She couldn't help it, though - Harry was fighting for his life in front of her eyes, and she wasn't doing anything to help him.

She was hiding and watching as the entire pirate village hunted him, curses flying after him whenever those huge cones of light caught him. Which was far too often, in her opinion - the pirates knew how to use those spells.

Modified Wand-Lighting Charms, she assumed. The pirates had used them before, when they had been hunting Harry and Hermione in the jungle, though she didn't remember the spell's effect being quite so powerful. This wasn't a flashlight-like spell but a searchlight. Which, she reminded herself as Harry managed to skip into darkness, a pirate ship - or any ship - would need, so it made sense someone would have created such a spell.

She should've anticipated that, too. Instead, she had blindly assumed that the pirates didn't have better spells than the ones they had used before. That had been sloppy. Sloppy and stupid.

And now Harry might pay the price for her stupidity. She held her breath as Harry was caught in the searchlight's cone again - and pulled up sharply instead of flying lower to use the jungle as cover. What was he doing?

Flying southwards, as planned, of course. But too high. He was probably doing this so Hermione wouldn't be at risk of being detected by anyone's Human-presence-revealing Spell, but it meant he was in more danger.

She gasped when she caught a glimpse of a pirate on a broom in the light, followed by another. They were chasing after Harry. As planned.

She turned her attention to the village again. And the ship in the cove, which was listing heavily. The spikes must have holed her several times. And the pirates had trouble fixing her. Which was a little surprising - Mending Charms should work, after all. Unless the ship was warded against such spells. But why would you do that? Although… if it was an old ward, and the ship did look old, then chances were, it had developed some quirks. Interactions with other spells were common in such cases.

She bared her teeth. Served the pirates right! If they lost their ship, then that should put a stop to their raids - at least for some time.

Hermione looked at the prison. She couldn't see any lights there. If everyone was focused on saving the ship, then they should be able to break into the prison without resistance. But escaping with a fishing boat would be more difficult as well. Or even impossible - if their next distraction didn't work.

All was moot, though, if Harry didn't make it back to her.

She didn't want to think about that. Not at all. But she couldn't help it - and she had to plan ahead. If they caught Harry and locked him up in the prison, would she be able to free him? She doubted it. Even if the planned distractions with conjured enlarged animals worked perfectly, the pirates' numbers would be too large to draw all of them off to fight the animals, leaving her able to break into the prison.

No, if Harry were captured and she had to rescue him, then she'd need a more… effective distraction. She'd have to set up a danger to the village that couldn't be ignored and would draw every pirate to fight it.

And that narrowed down the available options quite considerably. Harry and she had gone over alternatives to the current plan already. This was the most effective distraction they had been able to think of.

The alternatives left were… questionable. Very questionable.

She pressed her lips together. She could think of only one way to distract all the pirates.

Fiendfyre.

She knew the incantation - she'd found it in some of the older books she had bought last year. She had never attempted to cast it, of course, but it wasn't supposed to be difficult to cast - just to control.

And Hermione wasn't planning on controlling the fire. Start at the opposite end of the village, unleash the cursed fire, and then use the chaos as the pirates tried to hold it back to evacuate the buildings in the eastern part of the village to sneak into the prison.

But Fiendfyre would ravage the entire island. With the pirate ship in danger of sinking, would the pirates even have the means to evacuate? Did they have enough brooms and smaller boats to save everyone? And would Harry, Hermione and the girl be able to steal a boat in the first place when everyone would be trying to flee?

If she was honest, then Hermione had to admit she didn't think so. The best they would be able to do was to swim for it. Somehow.

And there was a significant chance that pirates and their families might perish in the fire. Could she risk that?

She clenched her jaw. She didn't know.

But if they killed Harry…

*****​

They were doing all they could to kill him, Harry Potter knew. He rolled and banked, then swooped down towards the jungle, pulling up again after a quick dive - just in time to avoid the blast from another curse blowing up the trees below and behind him.

Something appeared in front of him, and he pulled to the left, rolling, as a bird of some sort hit his shield and splattered all over it. Harry winced at the gore dripping from his Shield Charm and dived towards the jungle's canopy again.

The pirates were getting creative. He had to find a way to lose them, and quickly. He pulled hard to the right, managing to escape the cone of light following him for a moment. It dipped low, then up, and caught him again.

So, they expected him to dive for the jungle. Well, that was his plan. He just had to figure out how to avoid getting shredded when they sent Blasting Curses after him. He glanced over his shoulder as he weaved back and forth, avoiding a barrage of curses. Over a dozen brooms behind him, judging by the number of spells flying past. Sooner or later, one of them would get lucky, and his shield wouldn't stop it.

Time to roll the dice and go for the Snitch, then - he was far enough from the village so Hermione would be safe. He snorted at the thought that she would kill him if she knew what he was doing. Then again, he might just save her the bother if this went wrong.

Taking a deep breath, he dived again. A green curse missed his shield by a hair's width, and more spells flew past before he reached the trees below him.

And kept going, straight through the dense foliage. Twigs and branches splintered as his shield ploughed through them. A trunk appeared in front of him, and he barely managed to turn enough to miss crashing into it.

Then he was through the canopy, above the underbrush. He kept going, veered to the side to avoid another tree trunk, then went even lower - he couldn't fly too high, or they would easily track him with spells. And he couldn't slow down, or their Blasting Curses would get him. He had to speed up. Any moment, the jungle would blow up.

He bared his teeth as he flew straight into the underbrush, his shield shattering when a particularly thick branch was broken, and pulled hard to the left, turning as tightly as he managed. He almost crashed into a trunk on the way, sliding past it close enough to rip his trousers, and finished his turn. Then he urged his broom forward, back towards the village. Back towards the pirates flying above him. No time to weave. No time to slow down. He could just fly and hope he didn't hit a tree.

And hope that the pirates' next Blasting Curse wouldn't hit until he was clear.

He gasped when he burst out of a bush and a trunk loomed ahead of him, throwing himself to the side, pulling the broom with him, wrenching the shaft left with all his might and weight. The tip of the broom cleared the trunk by inches.

His foot didn't. He heard a sickening crack and was thrown off-course as he careened to the side, smashing through some denser underbrush, losing speed, the pain… the pain…

The jungle blew up behind him, the brief flash of light illuminating the jungle in front of him - and the trees.

Harry bent over, tried to ignore the pain from his mangled foot, and flew as fast as he could, by memory rather than sight.

At least for the first two dozen yards.

Then he was flying blind again. And through underbrush that would blind him anyway. He had to slow down.

He didn't.

He barely avoided another tree, sent into a spin by his frantic evasive flying, then shook his head. He had to… where was north?

Another explosion told him where south was, and he turned and sped off again. A little slower, this time. And gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain from his foot. Broken for sure. Probably multiple times - he remembered the match where Malfoy had bumped him into the Hufflepuff stalls.

Were the trees thinning out? It looked like it. That meant he was close to the coast now. So, he would have to turn west, towards the village. Probably.

He kept going until he saw the surf of the beach in the dim light of the stars. Yes! And the pirates were still blowing up the jungle to the south.

Now he had to hurry to Hermione.

*****​

Hermione Granger could still hear faint explosions from the southeast. That meant the pirates were still chasing Harry. Or trying to kill him. If they hadn't already done that without noticing.

No! Harry was alive. He was following the plan - lure the pirates deeper into the jungle, then lose them.

He had to.

She bit her lower lip until it hurt. He had to be OK.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. Focus on the village below - the pirates still hadn't repaired the ship. And the prison was still dark. Now all she needed was for Harry to return, and...

"Hermione?"

She whipped her head around. "Harry?" she whispered before she could help herself.

"There you are!"

She saw him about ten yards away, guiding his broom towards her. "I got lost a little," he said.

She didn't care - she rushed to hug him before he could dismount. "Harry!"

He was alive. The pirates hadn't caught him. Or killed him. And he was… "Are you alright?"

"Ah…"

She hissed and took a step back, pointing her wand at him. "Where are you hurt?"

"It's mostly just scratches."

"Those can get infected if not treated, and… 'Mostly'?"

"I hit my foot."

She clenched her teeth. "Show me."

He didn't step on it when he dismounted, she noted. And even in the dim light available, she could see that his shoe had been torn. The force to cause that… She pressed her lips together. He must be in great pain.

She prodded his foot, and he hissed in response. "That hurt," she said.

"Yes."

"I have to check it more closely," she told him. "I should vanish the shoe, but…" They didn't have a replacement. "I'll cut it off. We can mend it." After she mended his foot.

A Cutting Charm took care of the mangled shoe and sock. Then she could finally examine - as far as she was able to, at least - his foot.

And it didn't look good.

"I think it's broken," she told him. "I can mend the bones, but…"

"But?"

"I can't do anything about torn ligaments or tissue," she replied. Other than casting some small healing charms to stop the bleeding. Which she did now.

"As long as it's not broken any more." He was trying to make light of it, of course.

"You won't be able to walk on it."

"Oh, I can transfigure a cast. Sort of. I'll be able to walk."

"But the pain…"

He shook his head. "Just mend the bones. The pirates won't blow up the jungle for much longer."

Right. She took a deep breath, then pointed the wand at his foot. "Brackium Emendo!"

He sighed - though it sounded like a hiss. "Thank you."

She didn't answer. The foot was swollen, and she couldn't do anything about that. Harry couldn't even pull the shoe on, she realised. And he wanted to walk on it? Had to walk on it, she reminded herself, if they wanted to escape. "Stay on the broom," she told him.

"I'll try."

She nodded. "Let's go!"

Hermione mounted their broom behind Harry, carefully keeping her foot away from his. "Let's start conjuring and transfiguring the animals now, before enlarging them, she said." At least, in the darkness, they'd be safe. Relatively.

"Yes," Harry said in a tense tone.

She raised her wand. "Avis! Avis! Avis!"

A swarm of birds appeared, flying around her. They were waiting for her directions, unlike the mice Harry would be creating from pebbles and bits of wood.

But now to enlarge them. "Engorgio! Engorgio! Engorgio! Engorgio!"

Soon, the sounds of flapping wings made talking in low voices impossible.

And beneath them, a horde of giant mice was forming. Though the first mice were already wandering off. "We need to make them move to the village!" she said, then repeated herself, raising her voice.

"Set the forest on fire!"

Was that his solution to everything? She shook her head. "I've got a better idea." She focused and waved her wand.

And her giant birds started diving at the enlarged mice, driving them towards the village. Soon, a veritable stampede of squeaking, panicked mice entered the village, followed by screeching birds the size of large eagles. Or extinct eagles.

And Harry and Hermione were on the way towards the prison.

*****​

His foot was still hurting, of course - the bones might be mended, but everything else was still a mess. But Harry Potter had to bear the pain. For Hermione's sake - if she thought he couldn't stand it, couldn't pull his weight… who knew what she would do? Harry didn't, not exactly, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't be a good thing.

At least, as long as he was on the broom, he didn't need his foot. And it didn't hurt much like this.

He guided the broom along the edge of the village. Outside the range of the lights lit in the port - half the buildings had the lights on. And the ship was brightly lit - several pirates were flying around it with some Wand-Lighting Charms, and more were on the tilting ship. That would be a decent distraction by itself.

Halfway to the prison - still dark - he heard shouting from the eastern part of the village. They must have noticed the birds and mice. "Not very attentive," he commented.

"That might change now that they are aware they're under attack."

Right. Perhaps they should've skipped the distraction and just sneaked into the prison - but what was done was done. Second-guessing yourself in the middle of something was generally a bad idea, as Sirius had taught him. They just had to press on.

And, he added silently, since the screaming and shouting was still going on - and growing louder - the distraction was working as planned anyway.

"They're split between the swarms and the ship," Hermione whispered into his ear. "We won't get a better opportunity."

He nodded in return and urged the broom on, approaching the prison from the west, using the building itself to block the rest of the village from seeing them.

"Bring us to the window on the first floor!" Hermione snapped.

He flew up though he couldn't help wondering if she had said that to keep him on the broom. "I can't keep an eye on the village like this," he whispered.

"And they can't spot us," she retorted. He heard her whisper: "Avis!", and another bird appeared and instantly grew into a huge size. "That's to test for additional protections once I remove the bars."

They had gone over that before, but he knew that Hermione liked explaining things.

"Evanesco!"

The bars didn't vanish. Harry flicked his own wand. "Evanesco!"

"It must be charmed against it," Hermione replied. "We could try to dispel it, but…" She pointed her wand at one bar, and a Cutting Curse hit it.

Harry cocked his head. There was a cut in the metal - about a third of the diameter had been cut. "That seems to work," he commented.

She didn't answer but started casting more curses in quick succession. Harry followed her example. After a minute or two, the bars began falling to the ground.

Harry caught all except the first with a Levitation Charm. "The shouting's dying down," he said. "They'll have dealt with the swarms."

"We could redo them," Hermione suggested in a whisper as she cut the last bar.

"They'll realise it's a distraction then. Let's go in before they finish!"

"Wait! I'll send my bird in!"

The bird - larger than any eagle Harry had ever seen - landed on the windowsill, folded its wings to fit through the opening - and exploded in a cloud of gore and feathers. Several bits and pieces struck Harry's Shield Charm and fell down on the ground.

He cursed. That was a potent curse. Old wards - dark, too.

"I can't dispel that curse, certainly not quickly enough," Hermione whispered. "We'll have to go through the wall."

"It'll be protected against the Vanishing Charm."

"But it might not be protected against Reductor Curses," she retorted.

Harry snorted almost against his will. That was… "They'll hear us for sure," he told her.

"Do you have a better idea?"

He didn't. "We need a distraction for the blasts, though," he said, turning his head and looking towards the sea. "We'll start casting Reductor Curses at the ship and at the edge of the village. Then we fly down and break into the prison." The pirates would be too busy protecting their ship and their homes to worry about the prison.

"Alright. But hurry."

He pulled on the broom's shaft, and they quickly rose above the prison. The village was brightly illuminated now. And the eastern end of it was shrouded in smoke.

"They didn't just dispel them," Hermione muttered.

Good for them, Harry thought. That meant the pirates weren't as smart as they had feared. "I'll take the ship. You take the buildings!"

"Alright."

Harry cast his first Reductor Curse, sending it against the pirate ship's hull, followed by another before the first spell hit.

The curses detonated, causing more yelling and screaming. A moment later, more explosions followed from the village.

Harry quickly started flying in random search patterns, to throw off the pirates trying to track them, and cast two more curses.

"I can't aim like this!" Hermione complained.

"You don't need to aim - you just have to hit the village!" he told her.

"What if I hit someone by mistake?"

He didn't have an answer for that. None that he liked.

But they had no choice - he couldn't stay in place, or the pirates would track them.

He cast another curse at the ship - he hadn't seen much damage so far, but the pirates acted as if the ship was sinking, or so it seemed - then started to fly back to the prison. Halfway, he cast a Ventriloquism Charm to make it appear as if they were above the eastern edge of the pirate village.

Time to find out if their plan had worked.

*****​

"Surrender! We have sunk your ship! You cannot escape any more!"

Hermione Granger gritted her teeth at the yell coming from behind them. Really? Where did Harry get his dialogue from? Action movies?

She twisted, turning her upper body, and pointed her wand at a house straight at the edge of the jungle. Her Reductor Curse hit it and exploded against its side, followed by another that hit the trees next to it.

Too late she realised what kind of splinters this would send flying. If anyone had been outside without a Shield Charm… They are Pirates. Slavers, she told herself.

They flew over the prison, and she sent another Reductor Curse back, this time aimed further into the jungle. That would, or so she hoped, make the pirates think they were still attacking from that direction.

Harry brought the broom to a stop in front of the window they had opened, hovering in mid-air, using the prison as a shield.

Hermione swallowed. "Watch your Shield Charm," she whispered. Then she sent a Reductor Curse straight at the wall. Splinters and brick parts flew as a small cloud of dust obscured the impact. She didn't wait to check - the curse wouldn't have gone through the wall - and sent another at it. And a third. Harry started casting as well. Fragments pelted her shield, but it held. Harry was moving a little bit away from the prison, though.

"Keep us close," she told him, "the wizards on the ship can see us otherwise."

He guided the broom back, and she sent another curse at the wall. A moment later, the dust and smoke cloud was blown away - Harry had cast a spell.

The wall had been cracked - but the hole wasn't big enough to crawl through, much less fly. She aimed her wand at the sides, widening the gap with a few more quick curses while Harry did the same on the other side.

Almost wide enough to enter… But it was taking too long.

"We need to send a few more Reductor Curses at the village," Harry told her.

"Alright. Take us up."

He tilted the broom back - she had to grab his upper body to keep herself from sliding off - and moved up, towards the edge of the roof.

Right before he reached it, though, he dipped down again. "Broom riders. Too close."

She gasped. No. Their distraction… wouldn't work any more. "The pirates have returned?"

"Must have," Harry said in a flat voice. She felt him take a deep breath. "Alright." Another deep breath. "You crawl through the hole. Get the girl. And then sneak to the beach to steal the boat."

"No!" she hissed.

He went on as if she hadn't said anything. "I'll lure them away. I'll… lose them and return to the point where we hid to observe them."

"No!" She hugged him more tightly. "That won't work."

"It's our only chance."

"It's suicide!" His suicide.

"If I don't lure them away, they'll get all of us. And you can't fly as well as I can."

She dug her fingers into his shirt. "No!"

"Please." He grabbed her hands and tried to pry them loose.

"No! We need a better plan!" One that didn't involve the idiot sacrificing himself.

"We don't have a better plan."

She wouldn't let him kill himself. Not like this. Not at all. But he was right - they didn't have a better plan. And the longer they waited, the higher was the chance that someone flew close enough to spot them.

But she couldn't let Harry do this. Not now. Not when they were so close. There had to be another way! If only they could… Oh.

"We shrink ourselves - and the girl. And we hide," she told him. "They'll think we've escaped already, and they'll look for us on the island."

"That's too…"

"Not any more dangerous than your plan." At least for him. "And you wanted to do this, didn't you?"

She felt him tense up, then sigh. "Alright."

And despite the fact that she had not too low odds of killing herself with her plan, she smiled.

"Let's go in!" She reached for the battered edge of the hole in the wall. If the ward covered this as well… She closed her eyes and grabbed the stone, then pulled herself over, quickly scrambling through the hole.

She didn't die.

"Come on!" she hissed to Harry. Any moment, a pirate could fly over the prison and spot them - or his spell could detect them.

He guided the broom into the hole, bent low over it, and managed to squeeze through - with just some tearing against the ragged bricks. And some bumping of his mangled foot that made him grimace in obvious pain.

Hermione acted as if she hadn't noticed. "Come on." She hurried through the hallway to the cell she remembered from their earlier visit.

The girl was in her cell, curled up in a corner, shaking with fear.

She was afraid of them, Hermione realised with a sinking feeling. Oh, no! They were still covered in ash and soot! "Mademoiselle?" she whispered. "On est venus pour te sauver!"

The girl froze. She understood French, then. Good. "Qui êtes vous?"

"Hermione Granger et Harry Potter." She started cutting the bars around the lock of the cell. Harry quickly joined her.

"Vous n'êtes pas des pirates?"

"Non." One bar cut. Still no alert outside. Maybe they would be able to escape…

Another bar cut. Hermione and Harry worked together on the third, which quickly gave way as well, and she pushed the door open. "Viens!"

The girl dropped her blanket and trotted over. She was wearing slightly tattered robes. Silk ones, though.

"I think we can escape now - they haven't noticed us yet," Harry said.

"Unless they're waiting for us to leave," Hermione said. "Like the wyvern."

"That's not sure," Harry said. "Might be safer than shrinking us."

Follow the original plan and escape on the broom? Or risk shrinking themselves and hide and wait?

Hermione bit her lower lip.

What should they do?

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 27: The Prison Break Part 2

Algiers, Algeria, July 17th, 1996

"So… someone is hunting pirates," Sirius Black summed up their new information as soon as they were back in their hotel room. "And that's all we know. We don't know who, why, or where."

"We also know who they are hunting - which band of pirates," Peter added. "And we know their approximate location."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Approximate, as in 'somewhere along the Moroccan Coast'. And it's a hidden island."

"Which would fit what we know about the Portkey's location," Bill pointed out. "If Dumbledore didn't manage to find the kids, then they have to be in a hidden place - and a centuries-old pirate island perfectly fits the bill, doesn't it?"

It would figure that the Curse-Breaker didn't realise how little that would help. "And how are we supposed to find them if the island is hidden?"

"By finding out from those who have visited the place before, of course," Bill replied with a grin.

Fleur nodded with an almost feral expression. "They'll talk."

Sirius sighed. "Yes, so we have a chance - a chance, mind you - to find this hidden island. But we don't know if it is the island Harry and his friend were transported to. All we know is that a mysterious force of wizards is attacking the pirates." And as talented Harry was as a duellist, he had never fought for real. Sirius had fought in the war; he knew perfectly well that being a good duellist didn't help as much as most duellists thought when you had to fight outside the ring and without rules.

"Actually, we only know that the pirates think that they're under attack because someone killed their pet wyvern and spied on them," Peter corrected him again.

Sirius frowned at him. "You think that's Harry's doing?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm just trying to keep you from jumping to conclusions." With a small smile, he added: "Harry's a great wizard, but killing a wyvern? And spying on pirates? Lily and James taught him better than that."

"I'll have you know that I taught him everything he knows about duelling and pranking," Sirius protested. "And my godson is certainly a talented student!"

"Talented enough to kill a beast that is nearly as dangerous as a dragon?" Fleur shook her head. "I think not."

"I'm not saying that it was Harry!" Sirius protested. "But I'm not saying that it's impossible, either."

"So, you think there's a chance that Harry's on that island?" Peter sounded as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

Sirius glared at him. "It's theoretically possible. But Haddad thought that we're behind the attacks. And we know that none of our friends are doing it." They'd better not, he thought. If any of his friends started something like this while Sirius was stuck in Algiers...

"You think they're bounty hunters?" Bill asked. "There isn't a reward for the kids' safe return, is there?"

Sirius nodded. "Not officially, but people know there would be a reward." Really, not rewarding people for saving your children or godchildren simply wasn't done. "But Haddad also mentioned that the pirates had a 'hostage'."

"Yes. Céline de Ciel." Fleur spat the words out. "I know of her family."

"And they could've hired bounty hunters." Peter nodded. "We don't have any evidence that Harry and Miss Granger are on that island, but it's the closest we have to a trace. And we know that none have admitted to having 'found' the kids."

"So…" Bill grinned. "We don't have anything better to do, then?"

Sirius sighed. "No, we don't." At least they would be doing something, even if the chance that Harry and his friend were on the island was low. Hell, Sirius hoped that the two weren't on the island - otherwise, there was a decent chance that the wyvern had killed them already. "So… we're going pirate hunting."

"Good." Fleur flashed her teeth.

Peter nodded. "I'll go and see what I can dig up. Haddad left us with some leads."

Sirius blinked. "He did?" He didn't recall that. Fleur and Bill looked confused as well.

His friend grinned. "Well, while you were talking to him, I took the liberty to look around."

Sirius frowned. "You didn't go to the bathroom, did you?"

Peter inclined his head. "Now that would be telling." He straightened, growing serious. "I've got a few names that seem promising." He pulled out a sheet of parchment and dropped it on the low table in the lounge. "I think I'll be needing some backup for this. Just in case those pirates have more friends here than I expect."

Sirius's grin matched Fleur's. Cursing some pirate scum? That sounded much better than sitting around and waiting for someone else to save Harry.

*****​

Magical Algiers, Magical Algeria, July 17th, 1996

Waiting. While Peter had the time of his life spying in the harbour tavern, they had to wait outside, in the cold, for a signal that might not ever come.

Leaning against a corner leading into a dark back alley, Sirius Black sighed. As loud as he could.

"Shh," Bill told him quickly and predictably.

"No one's going to hear us," Sirius told him. "There's no one around to hear us. And if they did, they wouldn't hear me over the noise from the tavern."

"That's no excuse to be sloppy," Fleur added in a whisper. "We're surrounded by pirate scum."

"A target-rich environment," Sirius joked.

Both of them frowned at him - obviously, they weren't familiar with the saying. Well, Sirius only knew it because Harry had heard it from his cousin.

"It's not funny," Fleur said, a little louder. "Those… crapules… have kidnapped so many of my family and compatriots."

"Well, not all of the sailors in the tavern are pirates," Bill pointed out.

"Pirates, friends of pirates, business partners…" Sirius shrugged. "Seems one and the same to me. And if anyone attacks us, we'll deal with them. And with whoever might help them."

"And Peter's target escapes in the confusion," Fleur retorted.

"Or he captures the pirate in the confusion." Sirius grinned. "Peter's a very good spy." He had infiltrated the Death Eaters under the Dark Lord's nose, after all.

"Yes. So… let's relax," Bill spoke up. "If everything goes well, we'll just leave without fighting anyone."

Sirius nodded. Though he would much prefer fighting someone.

Then he felt the mirror in his pocket vibrate. Once. Twice. Three times.

It seemed he would get his wish. "That's our signal!" he snapped. "Let's go curse some pirate scum!"

He rounded the corner, casting an Anti-Apparition Jinx on the tavern as he rushed towards it. Before he had crossed the street, an explosion shook the building, blowing out all the windows on the ground floor - a few shards even bounced off Sirius's shield.

The door was pushed open next, two figures stumbling out, looking over their shoulders - they were still looking at the scene behind them when Sirius's Bludgeoning Curse smashed into them and slammed them into the wall.

"Careful, we need our man alive!" Bill snapped, sending a stunner at a wizard trying to climb out through the window. The man collapsed, blocking the exit. Sirius reached the door and crouched down next to it. A flick of his wand conjured a cloak, and a wave sent it fluttering into the open door.

Three curses hit it before it fell to the ground, ripping through it and setting it on fire.

Fleur retaliated by sending a few fireballs through the far windows. Bill didn't tell her off, of course! Smart man.

But Sirius had a job to do. He leaned to the side, just far enough to catch a glimpse of the inside - which was filling with smoke - and sent a Reductor Curse into the ceiling, then swung around and cast another Bludgeoning Curse at the two wizards who ducked under the splinters raining down at them.

They broke the table behind them, and a yellowish curse - an Entrail-Expelling Curse! - hit his Shield Charm. Snarling, Sirius hit the scumbag trying to kill him with dark curses with a Blood-Boiling Curse. Dark wizards didn't deserve any mercy!

The man started screaming as his blood began to cook him alive, and Sirius used the distraction to slip into the tavern. A Stunner caught a pirate trying to push the unconscious pirate stuck in the window out.

Where was Peter? There! He saw his smaller friend duel a broad-shouldered pirate and moved to assist. His Cutting Curse shattered the man's shield, and the pirate quickly dove behind the bar. Sirius grinned as Peter suddenly seemed to disappear and sent a few more Reductor Curses into the mirror behind the bar and the ceiling above it until he saw a red flash behind the bar. A moment later, Peter reappeared from where he had sneaked past the pirate as Wormtail.

"Got him?" Sirius asked while he used a tripping hex to stop a charge of a pirate wielding a sabre of all things - was that a squib?

"Yes." Peter pulled out a card and dropped it. "And gone."

That meant the Portkey had worked. Time to vacate the premises, then.

Not that there was anything or anyone left to fight, anyway - Fleur and Bill had taken care of the rest of the pirates, those who hadn't fled at the first sign of trouble.

But the Bey's guards would soon arrive, and Sirius would prefer to avoid an international incident.

He knew everyone would blame him for it.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 17th, 1996

Risk shrinking themselves - and the little girl - or risk a pirate ambush outside the prison? Harry Potter clenched his teeth. His first urge was to use the broom to fly all of them out. "Would the pirates prepare an ambush? Without checking if we're actually still here?" Which would be the natural thing to do - if you found a hole in your prison, you checked if someone escaped.

"They might already know that thanks to alarm charms or similar spells," Hermione replied. She was biting her lower lip.

"'Might'," Harry retorted. "Or we could be worried about nothing and wasting time while they're still dealing with our distraction." He should just take the chance and find out. With his mangled foot, he couldn't do much else. But if Harry did that, Hermione probably wouldn't...

"We can't underestimate them. We did that already and almost got killed for it," she said.

But overestimating an opponent was a bad idea as well - if you counted on them realising an obvious ploy only to do something else, and they didn't spot your feint… But then again, this wasn't a duelling match. If they misjudged the pirates, they were dead. On the other hand, if they bungled the Shrinking Charm, they would wish they were dead. And they were running out of time.

He looked straight at her. "Can you do the charm?"

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Yes."

He took a deep breath. "Then let's do it." He dismounted the broom, standing on one foot, and shrunk it with a wave of his wand.

Hermione took a deep breath - he saw her chest heave - and pointed her wand at herself, then stopped.

"Do me first," he told her. She was better at casting spells outside a duel.

Their eyes met. He nodded at her.

"Alright." Clenching her jaws, she pointed the wand at him. And cast.

For a single, horrible second, everything shifted. Then everything grew. No - he shrank. The floor turned into a square, covered in rough stones. And he was standing next to giants twenty times his size. Or more.

He tore his eyes away from Hermione's huge form and checked his body. Everything seemed to be OK. At least he didn't find anything obviously amiss.

Then the girl shrank as well, almost disappearing from sight. Harry quickly grabbed his broom - now properly sized relative to him again - and flew over to her. "Are you alright?"

She was trembling. Panting.

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" she asked.

"What? We shrunk you so we can fool the pirates," he explained. Or tried to - the girl didn't speak English. And they hadn't told her what they were doing.

Damn.

Then Hermione shrank. And the short step she had been away grew to what looked like over two dozen yards. "Uh…" Harry looked at the girl. "Come on, let's join her!"

"Quoi?"

Right. He pointed at Hermione. "Let's go to her." Wait… "Allons-y?"

"Harry!" Hermione was already on the way to them. "We need to hide, quickly - whether or not the pirates are already aware of our break-in, they'll soon enter!"

That meant they had to go downstairs and find a hiding spot where a Human-presence-revealing Spell wouldn't show their presence - where the markers would be hidden in a wall or a piece of furniture. "Alright," he replied. "Hop on the broom. And tell her that, too!" They couldn't leave a trace on the ground for a dog to follow.

"Mont!" Hermione said, pointing at the broom. "Entre nous."

They mounted, the girl sitting between Harry and Hermione. He felt her short arms wrap around his waist before he guided the broom up.

With three people on it, the broom wasn't very much faster than their levitated pole had been, but it was easier to control - and Harry could use his wand to blow the air around, hopefully diffusing whatever trace a dog might follow through the air.

He rose until about a foot high - almost ten yards, or so it seemed - and then raced towards the stairs. The girl - they hadn't asked her name, had they? - shrieked, but Hermione muffled her.

And not a moment too late - he could see movement outside the building through one of the windows on the ground floor. "Find a tall armoire," Hermione said. "There should be one in the guards' room. We can hide beneath it."

He rose as they reached the floor - no need to fly too close to the bottom and leave an easy track for the dogs - then tried two cells before they found a room with an actual armoire. It looked old, with carved ornaments.

And enough of a gap beneath it to comfortably let them hide underneath it. "Bend over!" Harry snapped, then guided the broom under the armoire.

Shouting and yelling in a language he didn't understand was heard from above them, and the girl cringed and clamped on to him, but they were safe. For now.

*****​

Hermione Granger held her breath when she heard the sounds of giant steps coming closer. This had been a stupid idea. They weren't safe - at their size, even a small dog was a deadly threat. A huge monster. And the pirates...

The girl whimpered when a giant boot appeared in the doorway - they couldn't see much more from beneath the armoire - and Hemione pulled her closer. "Ne t'inquiète pas!" she whispered.

But the girl kept sniffling. Which was perfectly understandable, of course, given what she had suffered through so far.

The pirate stepped into the room, walking around. Each step made the ground tremble, and his muttered words almost hurt her ears.

Hermione swallowed, then clenched her teeth. If the pirate looked under the armoire…But he didn't. The boots left again.

"That was close," Harry whispered.

"We were lucky," she said. "So far, at least."

They heard more shouting and yelling from the floor above and from outside. More giant pirates stomped through the room. They sounded as if they were arguing, though that was a mere guess - Hermione didn't understand the language. She couldn't even identify it, though a logical deduction would point at Arabic.

Not that it mattered.

"They'll soon tire of searching an empty prison," Harry said. Then we can sneak out and look for the boat."

"If we expose ourselves, a spell might detect us," Hermione retorted. "We have to wait until they aren't looking for us any more. They will assume we have disillusioned ourselves, and that will make them extra vigilant." At least she would be if she were in place of the pirates.

"We can't stay here too long," Harry countered. "And they won't expect us to stick around."

"We don't know that," Hermione protested, though Harry was probably correct. And yet… they couldn't afford a mistake. And the pirates would be patrolling the village. "We have to wait a little longer until they relax and assume we're gone for good."

"But not too long. We…"

Barking interrupted Harry, and Hermione gasped. A dog. If a dog had found their trace… if the dog tracked them, even the dullest pirate would check under the armoire! "Use your spell to disperse the air some more," she whispered. Every little bit would help.

Harry looked a little pale as he nodded and swished his wand.

Hermione barely kept from biting her lower lip until it bled - blood would certainly attract a dog. Especially one trained to track people. But even Harry's spell might not be enough to sufficiently disperse their scent.

The little girl - she needed to ask her name, Hermione realised - was shaking again, whimpering. And latched onto her arm. This wouldn't… She took a deep breath.

Then she heard footsteps, loud ones. And… there was the dog. Its paws, at least. And its nose, down on the ground. Headed towards them. No!

She froze for a moment. They could leave their compromised hiding spot, return to their natural size and overpower the pirate and the dog. But they would be cornered - there were more pirates around. And shrinking wouldn't work any more. Even if she managed to shrink everyone without mistake once more.

The sudden barking made her gasp - and gag from the dog's hot breath as it tried to push its snout under the armoire. For a moment, she saw the wyvern's maw open up and shuddered. They were… No!

"Harry! Transfigure a mouse, now!" she snapped.

The pirate was saying something - asking the dog what it had found, probably. Any moment now, the man would kneel down and peer under the armoire.

He dropped a piece of coconut from his bag, then waved his wand, and the piece turned into a tiny mouse - which promptly tried to run away from them and the dog.

But Hermione was already casting her own spell. "Engorgio."

The mouse, almost out from underneath the armoire, suddenly grew to - relative at least - giant size. A moment later, it was out on the floor.

And the pirate cursed. At the dog, presumably.

The dog was still barking, but the man cursed it again.

A moment later, the dog was dragged away by its leash. His paws were scratching the floor as he tried to get at the armoire, right up until the pirate closed the door behind them.

Hermione sighed with relief. "That was close," she whispered.

"Yes. But we fooled the pirates. Once again." Harry, still astride the broom to keep from having to stand on his mangled foot, sighed as well.

Though the girl was still trembling and sobbing. Hermione patted her head. "C'est bon - on est sécure pour le moment," she tried to reassure her. "Quel est ton nom?"

She had to repeat the question twice until the girl replied. "Céline. Céline de Ciel."

*****​

Sitting on the broom, Harry Potter gritted his teeth as Hermione talked to the girl - to Céline - in whispered French. He was so useless! With his foot mangled, he couldn't stand well, much less run. He didn't speak French - well, not much - so he couldn't help explain their situation and plan to the girl. And he couldn't even scout at the moment since they were locked in a room with a dozen pirates outside looking for them.

At least he could do magic, he thought - Céline was too young to have a wand. No, that was a stupid, selfish thought. If Céline were older, they could give her their spare wand and would have three wands to deal with the pirates.

But he doubted that the girl could cast even a Wand-Lighting Charm. Which would be a good idea, actually - he could barely make out anything in the dim light from the small window. On the other hand, no light meant that they would be spotted if they created a light - though, given their current size, a Wand-Lighting Charm might be mistaken for a glow-worm or something.

Harry remembered reading about that - something about magic and Shrinking Charms affecting each other, but the Enlargement Charm not doing the same. Which meant making yourself grow to a giant's size wouldn't let you throw around giant-sized Reductor Curses. Hermione would probably know why things worked that way.

"I've explained to Céline what we'll be doing," Hermione said.

"Good!" He grinned, though he wasn't sure she could see it in the darkness. "Now, you just have to explain the same to me."

She snorted. "We'll have to wait until they stop searching for us."

"That might take too long," he said.

"We can wait a day - we have enough food," she countered.

"A day? The pirates know we're a threat to them - this is their secret base, after all," Harry said. "They can't let us escape… Oh."

"Oh?"

"If they think we already escaped, they might evacuate the island before we might return with reinforcements," Harry said.

Hermione gasped. "But… wouldn't they already be evacuating then?"

"They might not think we've escaped." Harry nodded. "Hence, we might not be able to wait them out."

"And if they evacuate, they might take the fishing boats with them." Hermione sighed. "So, we can't wait until they evacuate, or we risk getting stuck on the island until the pirates return - at which point we're back to square one. And we'll have missed the train to Hogwarts."

"The other possibility is," Harry told her, "that they want to know how we managed to get onto the island in the first place."

"Would they risk an attack for that?" Hermione asked.

"If we were going to attack them, why wouldn't we have done it with more people?" Harry pointed out. "It wouldn't have taken too much effort to hire a few mercenaries, I think." At least the stories Uncle Peter sometimes told him and Rose featured wands for hire regularly.

"So… We have to assume that they assume that we're stuck on the island," Hermione summed up. "That means they won't give up looking for us. And they might have a decent idea that it's just us two - they saw us, if at night and from afar, before."

Harry nodded in agreement. "They might even suspect it's us if they know about the Portkey."

Hermione shook her head. "If they had suspected that, they would have started their search for us much sooner. They know that there's two of us - at least we have to assume so - but they won't have identified us."

"Yet," Harry said. "But if they do…"

Hermione nodded. "...they might want to erase all traces of our presence."

Which included their presence. "They might want to obliviate us and then claim they saved us for a reward," Harry suggested.

"Do you think so?"

Harry scoffed. "After we did our best to sink their ship? No. They'll want revenge."

"So, we're committed then." Hermione nodded once more. "We need a plan to reach a fishing boat without being caught."

"Tunnelling?" Harry shrugged. "If the building isn't protected against it, it's an option."

"We'd dig blindly, and there's the risk of getting spotted when we return to the surface. Or we dig into the sea. We wouldn't drown, but we would be in the same position - they might spot us before we reach the boat." Hermione said.

"We only have to get out of their spells' range," Harry said. If the broom weren't much slower, relatively, we could just fly up and be away before they realise what happened." But as it was, they would be caught while shrunk. Or cursed if they returned to their normal size.

"There has to be a way to escape from this prison," Hermione insisted. "We'll have to take a look outside."

*****​

Their original plan wasn't feasible any more. Hermione Granger was well aware of that fact. They had no chance at all to grab a fishing boat and sneak out while the pirates were distracted - even if they shrank it and took it with them on the broom, to drop it into the water outside the cove, odds were they would be spotted on the way, now that the pirates were actively looking for them. And they would likely notice a missing boat. "We need a way to get a boat without being noticed," she said.

"Unless they're stupid, they'll keep an eye on them. They might even have trapped them," Harry pointed out. And the pirates weren't stupid, as they had proved before.

"If we manage to leave a decoy in place of it…" Hermione shook her head before she finished her thought. "No. We can't create a convincing boat." Stupid. And they hadn't even thought of a way to get out of the prison without being spotted. "Let's take a look outside - through the window."

"Alright." Harry nodded and let them mount the broom - they weren't leaving Céline alone under the armoire.

Harry took them up and onto the windowsill, remaining on the broom while Hermione dismounted and moved to the window proper - hidden by its wooden frame. Any marker from a Human-presence-revealing Spell would float too high above her head to be visible through the window, either.

Unfortunately, that was it for good news. Hermione pulled herself up and peered through the window, but what she saw confirmed her fears. The village outside was brightly lit by spells of all kinds, and she saw two pirates on brooms fly past, with more on the ground. The area between the prison and the beach wouldn't offer any cover.

"The ship's a loss, I think," Hary commented next to her, on his broom, Céline clinging to him.

Hermione took a look. The ship was on her side, mast and rigging in the water. "They might be able to save her," she said. "Ships have been recovered and raised in worse conditions. And without magic."

Harry muttered a curse under his breath.

"It might be a good thing for us," she told him. "That should keep the pirates busy. If all of them were free to hunt us down…"

"Right." He still sounded as if he preferred it if the ship had been sunk. She could understand it - sinking the pirate ship would have been a blow against their filthy business.

"But we need to find a way to get out of here - and to the shore," she repeated herself. "Before they either save or lose the ship."

"There are a lot of pirates out either way," Harry retorted.

"Don't even think about trying to draw them away," she hissed.

He didn't flinch, But the way he pressed his lips together… She sighed and shook her head. "I can't do this alone," she said in a lone voice.

"Qu'est-ce qui ce passe?" Céline asked.

"On est en train de décider comment on va fuir l'île;" she told the girl.

"What?"

"I told her we're looking for a way to escape the island," Hermione said.

"Vous n'avez pas de plan?"

Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes. "On a eu un plan." They'd had a plan. It hadn't been perfect, but it had been a plan. They just needed to adjust it. Significantly.

"Pouvez-vous nous déguiser comme pirates?"

Disguise themselves as pirates? Hermione drew a sharp breath. It sounded ridiculous, straight out of a cheap movie, and they didn't have any Polyjuice Potion, but… "Je pense qu'on peut faire ca. Peut-être."

"What did you say?"

"Céline suggested disguising ourselves as pirates," Hermione told him. "I think it would work - if we can capture one or two pirates and take their clothes."

"They'll see through our disguise. We don't have Polyjuice Potion," Harry replied. "And we don't speak the language."

"We only need to reach the boat and sail away," Hermione retorted. And if we move at night, they won't see our faces." It was bright enough outside to spot anyone walking around, but not bright as day. And while the village was small, there should be enough residents so that most people wouldn't realise they were a stranger without seeing their face. Especially with the distraction of a sinking ship and a burning jungle and animal attacks.

"They'll still stop us - at the very least, they'll ask what we are doing with the boat," Harry pointed out. "They might suspect we want to desert. And once they take a closer look…"

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Then we need to capture a pirate and convince him to come with us to avoid such trouble."

"And how can we prevent them from shouting for help - or telling them about us while acting as if they're playing along? We don't speak their language," Harry said.

"They won't do it if they're too scared to cross us," Hermione replied.

"That's a rather risky bet you want to take."

"I know. But what else can we do? A distraction won't work again. Or not long enough for us to get away with the boat," Hermione retorted. "Unless… if we cause a distraction that sends everyone into the air, then someone already on a broom, disguised as a pirate, wouldn't look out of place!" She smiled. "You could land at the boat, shrink it and take it with you before anyone realises it. Without us weighing the broom down, you could outrun them."

"And you?" Harry stared at her.

"We'd stay shrunk. At least until we're on the boat - far from prying eyes on the other side of the island." She licked her lips. It was still dangerous - and they still needed to ambush a pirate without alerting the other, somehow, unless… "Oh. We need to see if there's some laundry hung out to dry! Then we don't need to capture a pirate!"

Harry frowned, but he was mulling it over - she could tell. And she could also tell that he was coming around - he usually made that face when he'd really liked to find a fault but couldn't.

"We still need to find a way out of this building," he finally said.

Hermione frowned as well. He was, unfortunately, still correct about that.

*****​

They couldn't just fly out of the building - the pirates would be expecting them to disillusion themselves, which meant every pirate would have the Human-presence-revealing Spell cast. Harry Potter knew that. He still wanted to fly - he felt safest on a broom. Even when his foot wasn't mangled. On a broom, he was in control. He didn't have to depend on anyone - and he could outfly anyone.

"We could attempt to summon clothes for a disguise," Hermione suggested.

"I would have to unshrink for that," Harry said. "And the pirates might spot clothes flying through the air. If we had seen such clothes in the first place to summon them."

Hermione frowned with a pouty expression, and Harry smiled a little - he was sure that she was not just annoyed because her idea didn't work, but because he had pointed it out to her. His amusement didn't last, of course - they were still in a bind. They needed to get away. "We could start a fire here," he said. "Create lots of smoke - we could escape in the confusion." It worked for escaping the wyvern, after all.

"There won't be too much smoke, and the pirates would wonder why anyone would set an empty prison on fire," Hermione retorted. "Even if they don't, they would probably use Water-Making Spells from above and afar, encircling the prison."

"They know we've freed the prisoner. Destroying the prison could be revenge for her - and for everyone else kept captive here," Harry replied.

"It would be revenge for all of them," Hermione agreed. "They could rebuild it, of course - but they might not be able to recreate the wards. Though we might have trouble actually destroying the building without getting exposed since we'd have to cancel the Shrinking Charms for that."

Harry nodded. At their current size, they would barely make a dent in the wall with their strongest Reductor Curses. And the prison would be protected against fire, even though they might be able to set some furniture ablaze, though… "What if they think the fire is a distraction? Make them think they have seen through our plan, and when they move to the other end of the village, we can get out."

"After dealing with the half a dozen pirates - at least - whom they'll send to deal with the fire?" Hermione shook her head. "We're too far from the shore for that to work. And the village is too small for this to give us enough time to get out, through the pirates, to the boat and then away before the other pirates return."

Harry sighed. "If we can't create a distraction, can't just fly out and can't tunnel out…"

"We could use a tunnel, but we would have to be lucky to avoid the sea and getting spotted when we climb out and end the Shrinking Charms," Hermione cut in.

He rolled his eyes for a moment. "In any case, if we can't get out or summon robes to us, then we either have to make a disguise ourselves or lure a single pirate into the prison so we can ambush them and take their clothes."

Hermione bit her lower lip again. "I don't know if we can recreate a convincing disguise using our own robes. A few Colour Change Charms could help, but we'd need to alter our own robes significantly to match the fashion here." She pointed at one of the pirates standing between the shores and the prison, looking around.

"It doesn't have to be perfect," Harry pointed out. "Just good enough to fool an observer at a distance at night." And moving as if they were perfectly at ease would help. Fewer people questioned you if you acted with confidence.

Hermione seemed to mull it over. "It's possible, then. But anyone taking a closer look won't be fooled."

"That leaves luring - or summoning - a pirate into the prison, stunning them and taking their clothes," Harry said. "And for that, at least one of us would have to be their normal size." Which meant there would be a greater risk of being discovered.

"And we would need to find a pirate who would either enter alone without alerting the others - or one who can be summoned without anyone else taking notice," Hermione told him. "I don't know if we should base our plan on such a coincidence."

"No, we shouldn't," Harry said, sighing. But they might have to. If only… Oh! He grinned. "I think I have a solution!"

*****​

Harry Potter eyed the robes Hermione had altered. She had been correct - they didn't look like much. The vest looked rough, as did the trousers and shirt. And the… what did you call the hat? Fez? - looked, well… Hermione had tried her best, but the hat looked as if it had gone through a battle already. And had lost.

Hermione looked apologetic. "It's the best I can do - I don't know enough about tailoring."

Harry nodded. Céline had helped with the design, which had probably been embarrassing for Hermione, but that hadn't done too much either. "It should work," he said. "It only needs to hold up long enough to fool one pirate."

"Provided we can catch one of them alone," Hermione pointed out.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he retorted. "If this doesn't work, we'll have to think of something else."

"Well, let's put it on," Hermione said. Her frown told him that she still didn't like this part of the plan. But Harry was the obvious choice - he was the better duellist. And his mangled foot wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. And if Hermione took his place instead, and something went wrong, then she would need to take Harry and Céline and flee on the broom - they couldn't afford to weigh the broom down with more than one person at their natural size. And they both knew who had the better chances to escape the pirates on a broom.

Harry sighed and pulled the disguise on - with Hermione's help. It felt weird, but he would manage. He had to. "Alright. Let's check if we can find a target."

They flew up to the windowsill again. It was late at night by now. Not quite dawn, fortunately. In theory, the pirates should be at their most vulnerable now. And it seemed their numbers - the numbers of the pirates out and about - had thinned somewhat. The ship was still half capsized, and Harry could see two wizards on the hull. Some would be in the air as well. And…

"There's a man walking towards the prison. No, along the shore," Hermione said. "But going in our direction."

Harry saw the man - and he didn't see anyone else around. His field of view was limited, but it was late, so… "Let's do it!" he said with more confidence than he felt.

"Alright," Hermione replied.

They flew down to the floor, then quickly made their way out of the room through a small gap under the door, to the entrance of the prison.

The door was closed, but through the small gap at the side, they could see the man walking past. It was now or never.

Harry landed and dismounted - carefully so he didn't stand on his bad foot. Leaving Hermione in control of the broom, he pointed his wand at himself to cancel the Shrinking Charm.

"Finite!"

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 28: The Prison Break Part 3

Algiers, Algeria, July 18th, 1996

"Where is the island your gang is based on?" Sirius Black repeated himself.

The pirate on the chair in front of him kept looking at him with the dumbest expression he had seen since James had managed to switch Snape's potion with a fizzy muggle drink in their fourth year.

"I don't think that he understands English," Peter commented.

Sirius clenched his teeth. "I can see that."

"Why did you keep asking him, then?"

"I didn't want the Veritaserum going to waste," Sirius told him with a frown. "And I wanted to make sure he wasn't faking it."

"That makes no sense," Fleur objected.

Sirius glared at her, and Bill whispered into her ear. Probably something about Sirius being frustrated or something. Well, he was. "We need a translator," he said. "We need your friend. Saidi." The pirate would speak Arabian, at least. If he didn't… Sirius exhaled through his clenched teeth. Any minute they were wasting endangered Harry.

"I'll go fetch him - unless you want to take our prisoner to his house," Bill said.

"No, no. Get him here!" Sirius shook his head. He didn't trust Saidi too much, and the odds of an attack or ambush were a little lower in muggle Algiers - no one wanted to be accused of endangering the Statute of Secrecy. That didn't mean such things wouldn't happen, of course - he had seen, and done, his fair share of combat in muggle areas during the war.

"I'll be right back." Bill grinned - and disapparated.

Sirius sighed and threw himself onto the couch. He crossed his legs and leaned back, staring - glaring - at the ceiling. "Why can't everyone speak English?"

"Why should they?" Fleur shrugged in that French manner of hers - he saw when he tilted his head to the side.

"A lot of muggles speak English. Or something they think is English," Peter pointed out.

"See? The muggles know what's good for them!" Sirius leaned forward, clapping his hands. "We wouldn't have to wait for a wizard of dubious trustworthiness if the pirate spoke English."

"It's just a small obstacle to deal with," Peter said. His friend acted as if nothing was amiss, sitting calmly in an armchair and reading some muggle newspaper. In French.

"Unless Saidi mistranslates," Sirius pointed out.

"He won't risk angering us - and Dumbledore," Fleur said, crossing her arms.

"I would've expected you to say that we can trust him because he's your friend," Sirius told her with a slight frown.

"I don't trust anyone in this country." Fleur scoffed with a sneer.

"Saidi seems to like you." Peter didn't look at them, Sirius saw - he kept reading his newspaper.

"So he says. That doesn't make us friends." Fleur shook her head. "Beel likes him but knows better than to trust him."

"And we're trusting him to save Harry?" Sirius shook his head as well. That didn't sound good.

"It's in his best interests to help us," Fleur said.

"Ah. Self-interest." Sirius sighed. "Let's hope it's enough. Shouldn't they be back here already?"

"Saidi might need some time to instruct his servants how to behave in his absence," Fleur said. She did seem a little less sure than she sounded, though. At least in Sirius's opinion.

But then, two figures appeared in the middle of the room. Sirius recognised Bill and Saidi a moment after he had aimed his wand at them. "Ah, there you are. We were just talking about you," he said, standing up.

Meanwhile, Peter moved his wand behind their backs. Trust, but verify, as the saying went. A moment later, his friend nodded at Sirius. They were safe, then.

"Alright. There is the scumbag," Sirius said, pointing at the pirate who was still drooling on the chair they had stuck him to. "We need to know where his island is. And how we can travel there." No time to chat about the weather now.

"Of course!" Saidi was all smiles. He bowed to Fleur, then turned to the prisoner and started talking in whatever language they spoke.

This time, the pirate replied in the typically dull tone of a man affected by Veritaserum. Sirius was familiar with it, from both sides - another legacy of the war. With spies abound, the Order had had to be careful about leaks.

Saidi didn't seem to like the answers - he kept asking questions with a frown on his face for a few minutes until he turned to address the group. "The man has told me where the island on which his gang is hiding is located. Unfortunately, it cannot be accessed by Apparition, and he cannot make a Portkey, either."

Sirius cursed. That complicated things.

"And we can't use brooms either - at least not to fly through the island's protections, though, given the distances involved, I would caution against making the trip on brooms anyway," Saidi went on. "I fear we need a ship."

"'We'?" Sirius asked.

The other wizard smiled at him. "You will need a translator, won't you?"

Sirius slowly nodded. The man was correct, after all.

"We'll need a translator - and a ship, then," he said. "How much for a ship?"

"That depends on its size," Bill said.

Sirius rolled his eyes. That was obvious. "How big a ship do we need to reach the island?"

"Ah… if the weather's fair, you can reach it in a fishing boat," Saidi told them. "But if it's not fair…"

"...then we sink." Sirius shook his head. "And a larger ship needs a crew, doesn't it?"

"That depends on your experience with sailing," Saidi replied.

"I can swim," Sirius said - and glanced at Peter. Perhaps his friend once had to sneak on board a ship as a rat and managed to learn about…

Peter shook his head before Sirius could finish his thought. "I never learned anything about ships - except for the fact that they sink if you blow a hole into them."

That sounded like a story Sirius wanted to hear. He smiled at Peter. "Well, we need that kind of experience - we'll be facing a pirate ship." And pirate ships needed to be sunk.

Fleur nodded. "They'll attack us as soon as they spot us."

"A crew would also help with evening the odds," Saidi commented. "According to our friend here, the pirates number three dozen people. Which is quite a significant number compared to our own."

Sirius snorted. Three dozen? That was a little much. Even for him and Peter. "Well, so we need to hire a ship with a trustworthy crew. I don't suppose you'd know such a ship?"

Fleur scoffed, and Bill reached over to pat her hand.

Saidi, though, was smiling widely at Sirius. "I happen to know a trustworthy captain with a suitable crew and ship."

"A pirate?" Fleur asked with narrowed eyes.

"A reformed pirate," Saidi told her - the man's smile slipped a little. "He has seen the error of his ways and abandoned this filthy trade."

"And how long ago was this… change of views?" Bill asked.

"Before or after he heard about Dumbledore's interest in his business?" Fleur scowled.

"Before, actually. As I have heard it told, he fell in love with one of his victims, and, in an attempt to win her love, he swore to forsake his trade," Saidi said. "That was five years ago, and, apparently, he's still trying to court her." He shrugged. "His apparent, ah, unwillingness to admit defeat in that matter aside, he's a skilled sailor and an experienced hand at fighting. And, as my inquiries proved, he hasn't engaged in piracy since his vow."

Such a sacrifice for love? Well, Sirius could respect that. That still made the man a former pirate who had traded in slaves. Such a stain didn't vanish after a few years - nor did the temptation vanish. But they didn't have many alternatives. None of them was a sailor. On the other hand, while three dozen pirates - and probably a few more from their families - would be bad odds indeed, Sirius wasn't about to trust pirates to fight pirates. He would get help from England. James and Lily would kill him anyway, if he didn't inform them about this. Remus probably as well. "Alright. Let's meet your 'reformed pirate'," he said.

"He should still be celebrating his latest trip to the New World in his favourite tavern," Saidi said. "I think it might be best if I am present to help with the arrangements."

Sirius nodded. But they would keep an eye on both the pirate and Saidi.

*****​

"An attack on a pirate island?" The Captain, Abdul the Black, or so he presented himself in accented English, snorted. "By ourselves?"

"We just need your ship," Sirius corrected him. "We'll gather enough wands to deal with a few dozen pirates ourselves. That way, we can avoid accidentally cursing your people in the battle."

"You're quite confident," Abdul told him with a hint of a sneer.

But Sirius had dealt with far more arrogant people. Even if he didn't count his own family. "We've beaten Voldemort and his Death Eaters. A few pirates won't be a problem," he said.

"Voldemort? The Dark Lord?" Abdul raised his eyebrows. Apparently, Saidi hadn't informed him about who exactly was hiring him.

"We're members of Dumbledore's order," Sirius told him. Well, technically, only Peter and he were, and the Order was effectively defunct, but… sowing some fear into the hearts of pirates that Dumbledore would lead his private army to the Barbary Coast was never a bad idea.

"Dumbledore himself has taken an interest in this affair," Peter added.

"I see." And there went all the arrogance, replaced by a forced smile and fake cheerfulness. "Far would it be from me to refuse to help such a noble endeavour. Indeed, what better way to prove to my love, my dear Claudine, that I am a changed wizard than to battle pirates myself?" Abdul held out his hand.

"Does that mean you won't need payment?" Sirius asked, baring his teeth.

Abdul's laugh sounded honest for the first time this evening.

As the haggling began, Sirius had a good feeling about this. They would crush those pirates.

And save Harry and Miss Granger.

*****​

Unknown Island, July 18th, 1996

Hovering on their broom, off in the corner of the corridor, Hermione Granger held her breath - and held Céline - while Harry, with his back to the door, yelled - though not too loudly - "Stop!" and acted as if he was wrestling with someone.

"Tout va bien," she whispered. "Everything's going to be OK." She hoped Céline believed her. "Maintenant!"

And Céline started yelling as well. "Non! Lachez-moi! A l'aide!" Thanks to the amplifying Charm Hermione had cast on her, her words sounded loud enough to carry outside. Hopefully, not too far.

And the pirate running towards them seemed to have heard her. He had his wand drawn. But would he be fooled long enough to enter the prison? Was he fooled at all, or was he just trying to get close enough to hit Harry with his first curse?

"Non! A l'aide!"

While Céline yelled some more, Harry moved further into the hallway, away from the door, as the pirate approached. He had to keep his distance and stay in the shadows, Hermione knew - their disguise was shoddy and wouldn't hold up to even cursory glances from up close.

But it seemed to be working - the pirate entered, leading with his wand, and yelled something in a language Hermione didn't understand.

And Harry whirled, throwing the remains of the chair he had been holding straight at the man.

The pirate gasped, and his wand sent a curse into the wooden parts. They blew up, and Hermione gasped as splinters were sent flying - in her direction as well. She bent over, trying to shield Céline with her body; her Shield Charm wouldn't stop a splinter bigger than her shrunken body.

Something passed close by - she felt the air current - but nothing hit them. She looked up, guiding the broom away, to some sort of cover behind a shelf.

The pirate was on the ground, yelling, but Harry cut him off with a Stunning Curse. What had… Oh. The splinters would have hit the man; he was too close and hadn't had a shield up.

Serves him right, Hermione thought, then bit her lower lip. She shouldn't feel like this about a man getting hurt.

She felt Céline tremble in her arms and whispered: "Tu as été très courageuse!"

"M-merci," the girl replied. She didn't relax, though.

"Episkey!" Harry snapped, painting his wand at the pirate as he dashed forward to the door. "Episkey!"

He passed the stunned man and stopped at the door, peering out.

"Doesn't seem as if anyone has noticed," he said in a whisper that still carried far better than Hermione's yelling due to the size difference.

But an Amplifying Charm solved that - even though casting it to whisper at normal volume felt somehow wrong. Not that she could ponder this, not now. "Good." She flew up to Harry's head with Céline. "Grab the pirate's clothes; I'll keep watch." She didn't have to say it since it was the plan, after all, but she said it anyway.

And Harry turned and got to work.

Hermione forced herself to focus on the area outside the prison. Harry could strip the pirate easily - he didn't need her to look over his shoulder. Or stand on his shoulder, in this case. In a pinch, he could just cut off the robes, then mend them once they were off the pirate.

Still, while only a short time passed, it felt far too long. She stared at the shore, at the sky, watched a pair of pirates fly overhead, towards the still capsized ship in the middle of the bay. And at every moment, she expected someone to yell in alarm, sending a curse towards the prison.

"I've taken his jewellery as well," Harry whispered. "Some of it might be enchanted to let us pass through protections."

She looked over her shoulder and gasped. "Harry! What did you do?"

He grinned. "I cut off his beard, too - and stuck it to my face. It improves the disguise, doesn't it?"

"As long as none takes a closer look," she said. "The beard - or what remains of it - covers more of the right side of your face than of your left side."

"Oh." Harry shrugged. "No problem then - I'll just show my right side to them!"

She snorted against her will.

"Alright. We'll slip into… your front pocket, So you can carry the broom and unshrink it in advance," she whispered.

Harry peered into the pocket in his captured vest. "Oh… one moment, please."

He pulled out a small - well, small relative to his size - silver box. "Now you've got enough room."

"OK." Hermione licked her lips, then guided the broom over to Harry's shoulder. He held out his hand, and she dismounted on it, followed by Céline.

And tried not to yelp when Harry moved his hand to the top of his pocket so they could climb in. If they fell from this height…

But they didn't, and while the entire pocket smelt like tobacco - Harry's Cleaning Charms must have been sloppy to miss that and get the blood - it was comfortable enough.

As long as Hermione didn't think of what would happen should Harry fall down on his front.

*****​

Harry Potter took a deep breath. He could do this. He just had to walk out, stroll over to the shore, where the fishing boat was tied up, wait for their distraction to draw attention, then shrink it, unshrink his broom, and fly away without anyone noticing.

Piece of cake. If not for his mangled foot. But he could use his broom.

First, he had to shrink the pirate, though - they couldn't set fire to the prison with the pirate stunned inside it. Well, they could, but… He grimaced. No, they couldn't!

He tried not to think about the whole thing and pointed his wand at the pirate. "Incarcerous!"

Ropes wrapped themselves around the prone form. It wouldn't do for the man to wake up in the middle of this. Even without a wand and in his underwear - Harry wouldn't wear that, disguise or not - the pirate could be dangerous. Especially for Hermione and Céline, who were shrunk as well.

The man shrunk until he was barely over two inches tall. He looked OK - Harry couldn't see any obvious mistakes he might have made with the spell. And there wasn't the time to check more thoroughly, anyway. Harry picked the figure up, carefully - he couldn't put pressure on his foot - cast a Bubble-Head Charm on him and put him into his other vest pocket.

He didn't like that - if anything hit his chest, or if he fell… But it was the least bad option to transport shrunken people. If only he had an extended pocket!

"Alright," he said, for Hermione's benefit. "I'm starting the fire."

"OK," he heard her whisper.

He pointed his wand at the wood gathered in the corner - parts of it wet with water thanks to a quick Water-Making spell - and focused. "Incendio!"

The dry wood in the centre quickly caught fire, and he could see the first wisps of smoke rising from the stack. He had to wait a little before he could leave - this wouldn't be much of a distraction without more smoke. A Bubble-Head Charm would keep him from inhaling too much smoke.

The fire grew a little more slowly, but soon enough, smoke started gathering under the ceiling, drifting to the stairs - and the open door. It was time to leave.

Then he heard voices outside. Alarmed voices. And his stomach dropped. Someone had noticed the smoke already. No!

He clenched his teeth. "They noticed the smoke already," he whispered.

"No!" Hermione replied. "That's… We can't..."

"I guess we'll find out how good the disguise is," Harry said. He tried to sound confident, but he grimaced since Hermione, stuck in his pocket, couldn't see his face.

This was bad. Very bad.

Perhaps he could… no. He couldn't use the captured pirate as a distraction. Not while wearing his clothes and beard. It was still dark outside, but - as a quick glance at his watch told him - it wouldn't be for too much longer. And the smoke was getting worse.

He used the Water-Making Spell to douse himself - he heard Hermione squawk; apparently, the pockets on the vest weren't waterproof - and then smeared some soot on himself. Even though he was still somewhat covered in ash and soot from before.

Showtime.

He kept the spell going, spraying water all over the floor and the walls, not aiming at the fire itself, and limped out of the door, groaning with each stumbling step. It was a relief to let himself fall on his back to squirm in the sand and dirt before carefully rolling over while lifting his chest to avoid squashing Hermione and Céline.

Before he could get up to his hands and knees, a pirate landed next to him but stayed on his broom. He asked something Harry didn't understand but could guess. Not that it mattered. Harry kept staring at the ground, hiding his face, and flicked his wand beneath him, casting a Ventriloquism Charm.

The pirate repeated himself - or close enough. And he sounded more urgent. Harry wet his lips, tasing sand grains on his face, and used the charm.

"You'll never get us alive!" his voice rang out from the prison. "Avada Kedavra!"

The pirate next to him jerked and yelled something. Harry heard someone above them - the second pirate - reply. If only he spoke their language!

"Come and get us!" he made his voice yell. "Pirate scum!"

Harry himself groaned and coughed, still hiding his face by staring at the ground. He retched as well.

The pirate next to him suddenly grabbed his shoulder, asking something. Damn.

Harry flicked his wand and looked up. He saw the man's eyes widen, but before the pirate could yell a warning about an impostor, Harry's Stunner hit him straight in the chest, and he collapsed.

Harry pushed himself up - using just his good leg - and screamed incoherently as he sent a Reductor Curse towards the prison's entrance. The door vanished in a cloud of dust and smoke, and Harry grabbed the stunned pirate, then his broom, using it to drag them away from the prison, towards the shore.

Another spell flew towards the prison from above him - the flying pirate must have fallen for his ploy. Harry sent a Bludgeoning Curse into the smoke himself and gritted his teeth - the pirate was heavy!

More of the man's comrades were arriving on brooms and on foot, and Harry cast a Stunner at the prison, waving the other pirates on.

Unfortunately, one of the newcomers rushed towards him, obviously wanting to help the stunned pirate. Harry turned his face away and cast a Shield Charm.

And once the pirate reached him, Harry stunned him as well, then used a Reductor Curse on the ground next to him to throw up sand and smoke.

Then he flew out of the cloud, still screaming and casting curses at the prison, which was now half-hidden by the smoke.

And there was the fishing boat, just a dozen yards away!

Harry smiled. Just as planned! Mostly. He looked over his shoulder; it seemed everyone was focused on the burning prison. Perfect!

He rushed the last few steps, then dropped from the broom to the ground next to the boat's bow, where it was tied to a post. The knot looked complex, but a quick Severing Charm would make short work of the rope.

It didn't. Instead of being cut apart, the rope remained untouched.

And a loud sound, like a bell being rung, started up - Harry had triggered an alert! No!

He whirled. Two pirates who had been kneeling next to the one he had stunned were looking at him. Wands raising.

Harry sent a Reductor Curse at them. The explosion threw one of them over the beach like a ragdoll and the other ran away, holding his face. Harry pointed his wand at the rope securing the boat and cast a Cutting Curse. That did the job - the rope parted. Now he just had to… Duck!

He sat down, almost falling over, when a purple curse flew at him. But he couldn't drop - he would crush the others. Another curse clipped his shield as he slid around the boat, taking cover behind it. This was bad. Worse!

"What's going on?" Hermione whispered from his pocket.

"The rope was charmed and alerted the pirates," he said. Another spell flew over his head. He peered over the boat and sent a Stunning Curse back, then ducked down again.

The boat shook under the impact of another spell. No choice - he couldn't stay and let the boat be destroyed! But… Cursing, he pointed his wand up. "Accio pirate's broom!" He focused on the second pirate's broom.

More spells flew over the boat and his head - couldn't they aim any better? Even in the darkness? Or… He looked up. If the pirates on brooms were about to flank him…

The summoned broom planted itself in the sand next to him. Good. They had two brooms now. That meant they had options.

The boat shook from another hit. He shrunk the second broom, dropping it in his pocket - and ignored Hermione's 'Ow!'. Then he took a deep breath and shrank the boat.

He heard yelling, and as he grabbed the boat, now the size of a toy, a curse shattered his shield.

He threw himself to the side, not letting go of the boat, and landed on his back. His foot hit a rock, and he screamed with pain. Another curse barely missed him, hitting the sand next to him and covering it in sizzling green liquid. Cursing under his breath, blinking through tears, he stuffed the boat into his pocket, recast the Shield Charm and grabbed the broom. "Up!"

The broom rose, dragging him in the air as he hooked one leg above it. A Bludgeoning Curse struck his Shield Charm, shattering it again and almost threw him off the broom - he barely managed to keep a grip on the shaft as another curse passed overhead. Panting, he hooked his leg over the shaft again and pulled himself up. It was more difficult than it had to be since he had to keep Hermione and Céline from getting crushed, but he managed. While urging the broom to keep raising and speeding up.

Then he was bent over the shaft, still panting, and flew as fast as he could towards the hill.

"What's going on?" Hermione hissed.

"We're in the air," he replied, yelling.

"I noticed!"

One curse missed him - he saw the red flash pass him. He banked left, looking over his shoulder. Two of the broom riders were after him. And behind them, he could see the horizon taking on a red hue.

Time was running out.

"Hold on tight!" he snapped. A moment later, he started a dive. He heard Hermione squeak, probably frightened, but they had no choice.

He flew down towards the island in a rapid spiral. Pulling on the broom's shaft with one hand, he cast yet another Shield Charm, then levelled out - and pulled up, turning and rolling, until he was flying straight towards the two pirates chasing him. And cast a pair of Stunners.

He had to roll and bank, narrowly avoiding yellowing and brown curses, but his own curses struck one of the pirates, shattering his shield - but missing stunning him.

Gritting his teeth, Harry adjusted his course - and flew straight into the descending pirate. His own shield shattered on impact, and he was thrown around, clinging to the broom with all his strength.

But the pirate's broom had been shattered, and the man screamed as he fell to the Earth.

Harry hesitated a moment, then dived after the flailing wizard. He flicked his wand. "Levicorpus!"

The spell caught the man's ankle and stopped his fall - and the screams changed from horror to pain when the man's ankle snapped like a twig.

And Harry was past him. The second pirate would have to save his comrade, and the other pirates hadn't yet caught up.

Good. He wouldn't miss this opportunity.

*****​

Hermione Granger knew she shouldn't do it - it was foolish - but she couldn't help it. She couldn't stay any longer in Harry's pocket, being jolted around without any idea what was happening.

"Reste ici!" she whispered to Céline, then started to climb up to the opening of the pocket. It was harder than expected - she was thrown around since Harry was flying like a maniac, and, once, she was almost thrown out of the pocket; only a quick Sticking Charm saved her.

But she reached the edge of the pocket and, after another charm, stuck her head out.

And wished she hadn't - they were flying at high speed directly at the jungle! "What are you doing?" she yelled.

"Escaping the pirates!" Harry replied.

She couldn't see any spells flashing by. "Are we being chased?"

"I can't see anyone."

Well, she couldn't see anyone or anything behind them. "Don't fly into the jungle!"

"What? Go back into the pocket!"

"No!" She was fine here - her spell prevented her from falling out.

"You can't do anything like that!"

"I can see!"

"In the darkness?"

"As well as you can!" she retorted. They weren't in the brightly lit village any more.

"That's not reassuring."

"Says the wizard flying straight towards the jungle!"

"I'm not going to fly through it! I just need to make them think I did!"

"What?"

"So they'll search the jungle, not the sea!"

"But they know you stole the boat!" she pointed out.

"That's why I'm going through the jungle!"

"What?"

And then they broke through the canopy. Hermione screamed out of reflex when the branches splintered before she realised that Harry's Shield Charm protected her as well.

"Calm down!"

"I am calm!" she lied - flying through the underbrush was worse. Fortunately, Harry showed some sense of self-preservation and slowed down, then changed course and flew towards the hill.

"You want to sail westwards?" she asked, as calmly as she could, as they left the jungle.

"They'll expect us to try eastwards since the African Coast is that way," he replied.

"Or they'll expect us to anticipate that and sail west."

"I don't think they think that far," Harry replied.

"Let's hope that they'll think we'll go south." That was the most likely course, in her opinion - straight away from the island and shielded from view by the hill between them and the village. Not that that would stop a broom rider from spotting them. She looked at the horizon. "The sun's rising soon."

"Enough time to get away with the boat," Harry said.

She licked her lips, looked at the growing line of red out in the sea, and nodded even though he couldn't see it. If they flew a little longer, they'd only have a small distance to sail in the boat. "Yes. Let's do it. But don't fly too far."

"I won't."

Harry flew them around the hill, using it as cover, then dashed over the still smoking remains of the forest the pirates had set on fire. She even recognised their shelter - it had been torn and blasted open, or so it seemed. If they had tried to hide in there…

But they were already over the beach, passing a few familiar rocks. "Not too far," she reminded him. They didn't know exactly where the wardline was. Not even approximately. And if they misjudged the distance, they would only realise it when whatever curses protected the island activated...

"Yes, yes," he replied.

And he slowed down, then stopped. And reached into his other pocket, pulling out a shrunken pirate and a shrunken boat.

A quick charm later, the boat was restored to its natural size and in the water, and Harry landed in it. And cursed.

"Your foot?" If he had bumped it against the boat...

He didn't answer. Instead, he held a shrunken broom out to her.

She grabbed it, then helped Céline onto it before flying down to land on the boat's middle bench.

Time to restore their own natural size. She aimed her wand at Céline. "Finite!"

The girl rapidly grew and almost crushed her when she fell off the bench. "Ow!"

"Sorry," Hermione whispered. It wasn't her fault, but Céline was a little girl. And she had gone through so much, the last thing she needed was recriminations.

Hermione took a deep breath, then ended the Shrinking Charm on herself.

She, too, almost fell off the bench. But she was back to her natural size herself, and without having suffered any side effects - at least as far as she could tell.

"Alright," She said. "How's your foot?"

"It's fine."

It obviously wasn't, but Hermione wouldn't push the issue. Not so close to freedom. "Let's go." She looked around. "There aren't any oars?"

"I didn't check," Harry said. "We'll have to use magic."

Great. Hermione didn't know any boat-propelling charm. Another stupid mistake of hers - she should've learned what charm moved the boats with the First Years across the Black Lake.

And she should've realised this before starting this. Sloppy. Stupid and sloppy. They had counted on there being oars to row the boat. That couldn't be too hard. They could paddle, at the very least. "The pirate we took prisoner could know how to move the boat," she said.

"But will he?" Harry asked.

They could try to force the man, of course. But… what if he was too stubborn to cave? Even in the face of threats? Could they hurt the man to make him move the boat? Could Hermione? She didn't answer. "We don't have sails, either."

"And figuring out how to activate the enchantment on the boat might take a while," Harry said. He looked at the horizon, which was now glowing red.

"And we would lose the cover of darkness," Hermione said, clenching her teeth. The pirates would already be looking for them. On brooms. They were running out of time.

"I can pull it on a broom. If we're fast enough, it'll slide through the wards on its own," Harry suggested.

"After you crash into the wards?" Hermione said.

"I can swim and push the boat," Harry countered.

"With your foot?" She shook her head. "I'll push the boat. You keep an eye out for sharks and other threats. She grabbed her top to pull it off, then stopped. Push the boat through the water. Like… "An octopus!"

"What?" Harry looked around. "Where?"

Céline looked alarmed as well.

Hermione ignored their reactions. "An octopus, like a squid, propels itself through water by expelling water - a sort of jet propulsion!" she explained.

They looked at her with blank expressions. Well, Céline didn't understand English. But Harry?

"The Water-Making Spell!" She blurted out.

"Oh! Yes!" Harry grinned at her. "Good idea!"

She snorted. It was a great idea. "Let's hurry!"

She pointed her wand at the sea and cast. "Aguamenti!"

Water shot from the tip of her wand.

"Aguamenti!"

"Into the water," she said, lowering the tip of her wand into the sea.

Harry followed her example.

And the boat started to move.

Yes!

She looked up, at the shore, to gauge their course. Good enough, she decided. "Keep going!"

The sun started to rise as well - the island and the hill to the east still blocked the line of sight, but the darkness was fading anyway. It didn't matter, though. Just a little bit more, and they would be free. Though since they didn't know how far exactly the spells protecting the island reached out, they would have to keep going for some time to be on the safe side. Literally.

She snorted at her own unintended pun.

"We're rather slow," Harry commented.

"Yes." She could see it - she wasn't blind.

"And the sun's rising."

"Yes." That was obvious as well.

"We'll have trouble avoiding the pirates when we switch to brooms," Harry pointed out. "It'll be day by then, and we'll be visible from afar."

"If they are looking for us," she retorted - but then, they would be scouring the sea for them. The pirates couldn't afford to let them escape and tell others of the island. "Which they will be," she added.

"They're already looking for us, I'm sure," Harry replied. She heard him take a deep breath. "Look…"

"If you tell me that you'll serve as a distraction, I'll curse you myself, shrink you and carry you in my pocket!" she cut him off.

He drew a sharp breath for a moment. She had been correct. "Look, we have three people and two brooms - we won't be able to outrun them. Someone has to keep them busy. And I'm the better flyer."

"Then you need to ensure that Céline gets to safety," she retorted. "Besides, I have a plan."

"You have?"

"Yes."

"Does it involve us shrinking ourselves again to escape on the back of birds?"

"No." They had been lucky to be able to shrink themselves - and Céline - once without issues. "We might not have the time for that before the pirates find us, and they wouldn't let a bird escape. Not after our distraction."

"Right. So much for Tolkien."

She had to laugh at that, even though the sky was turning blue now, and they were - by her reckoning - still too close to the shore to be safe.

"So, what's your plan?" Harry asked after a moment.

"It actually does involve birds," she told him. "If I conjure a swarm of them and enlarge them like before, we can…"

"Brooms!" Harry snapped, interrupting her. Straight behind us!"

She looked up. Yes, right in the direction Harry was indicating, she could see dark dots flying above the hilltop. But… "They haven't seen us. Not yet," she said.

"Not yet. How much farther?"

She bit her lower lip, hard enough to hurt, as she looked at the shore, trying to guess the distance. "A little more to be safe," she said. "Just a little more."

Harry muttered a curse under his breath. "About that plan…"

She licked her lips, staring at the tiny broom riders in the distance. They were quite far away, and it was still somewhat dark. Perhaps they wouldn't see them… "Yes. The summoned birds can serve as…"

The broom riders moved. In their direction.

"They've seen us," Harry snapped.

Céline gasped. "Non!"

And streaks of light shot up from the flying pirates. Signals, Hermione realised.

The two pirates were alerting the others that they had found them.

"Keep going!" she snapped, pulling her wand out of the water. "Avis!"

"Birds won't stop them! They can just plough through them with their shields!"

"Birds are easier to hit than brooms," Hermione snapped back. "Avis!"

"Oh."

He got it.

"Engorgio! Engorgio! Engorgio!"

Hermione started to enlarge the birds.

And the first pirates started to cast spells at them.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 29: The Chase

Off Gibraltar, Atlantic Ocean, July 18th, 1996

Peter Pettigrew was calmer than he had expected as he watched the sun rise behind them. They had made good time - they had sailed from Algiers to the straits of Gibraltar in a few hours, much faster than a muggle sailing boat, or most muggle ships, could've managed - but it would still take at least half a day to reach the pirate island.

Something that should've been obvious from the start. It had been - at least to him.

"Can't this hulk go any faster?"

Sirius, though, hadn't made the calculations. And hadn't taken the 'news' well. Peter looked over at the other side of the bridge, where Sirius was pacing.

"We should've taken a Portkey!"

Peter shook his head. "And find a ship with a trustworthy crew in Morocco?"

"Yes!"

"And how would we have found such a crew amongst the glut of untrustworthy Barbary Coast pirates?" Peter raised his eyebrows.

Sirius hissed through clenched teeth. "We could've used Veritaserum."

"So, we would've kidnapped pirate after pirate, used Veritaserum, all without the rest of the pirates noticing that their numbers were dwindling? When everyone's already on edge because they think Dumbledore will appear and hunt them down?"

Sirius perked up and grinned at him. "That's a good plan! Anyone who doesn't run when Dumbledore arrives is trustworthy!"

Peter lowered his head. "And if everyone runs? Or those who stay are too frightened to run?"

"We could deal with that if it happened."

Peter shook his head. "We found a fast ship with an experienced crew. And James, Lily, Remus and Dumbledore, and whoever else is coming, will join us as soon as we reach Gibraltar. We're doing well, Sirius."

"Not well enough. Harry's out there. Alone. Well, with Miss Granger. Amongst pirates! Barbary Coast pirates!"

Well, Caribbean pirates, such as there were left, wouldn't be any better. British wizards didn't have the best reputation in the Caribbean. "We don't know if Harry's actually amongst pirates," Peter pointed out. "As far as we know, it's a pretty big island - plenty of room to hide." They also didn't know if Harry was actually on the island, but mentioning that wouldn't help Sirius calm down.

His friend scoffed. "He's on the island. My gut tells me so!"

"Like your gut told you that Rebecca Brown fancied you?" Peter cocked his head with a slight grin.

"She was smiling at me whenever we had classes together!"

"She was smiling at Lily, who was sitting behind you."

"I thought she was too shy to meet my eyes. Anyone could've made that mistake!" Sirius huffed again.

"Not many would've assumed that she fancied them," Peter pointed out.

"Of course not! They aren't me!" Sirius pushed his chest out and ran a hand through his hair.

Peter rolled his eyes, but he grinned. At least his friend wasn't pacing any more.

The sailor - Emir - manning the helm snorted, obviously amused. "You have troubles with witches?" he asked with a heavy accent.

"What? No! That was years, decades ago!" Sirius said.

"Barely two decades," Peter said. "But Sirius doesn't have troubles with witches. Not any more. Not at all."

"Exactly! I've…" Sirius broke off and narrowed his eyes. "What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing at all," Peter replied. "I'm just remarking that you haven't had any trouble with witches in a while."

Sirius's glare intensified. "I'm still popular! Attractive! Many witches wish they could be with me!"

"Yes, Sirius." Peter nodded. Polite agreement was the best way to rile his friend up, he knew from experience.

"I'm telling you," Sirius said, clenching his teeth, "I'm regularly dating witches."

"No one claimed anything else," Peter said, still smiling as earnestly as he could.

Emir chuckled. "If we make port in Morocco on the way back, I can introduce you to Moroccan witches. The most beautiful and most passionate witches in the world! Most dangerous too, if slighted."

Sirius stared at the sailor. "That's very generous of you, but I'll be busy tending to my godson once we've dealt with the pirates."

"Ah." Emir nodded with obvious and fake understanding.

And Sirius turned to glare at Peter. "That's your fault!"

"What? That you received a very nice offer to be introduced to beautiful witches?" Peter tilted his head.

"That people think I need such help!"

Peter snickered, then laughed at his friend's expression. After a moment, Sirius snorted and shook his head.

And Abdul appeared on deck. "Ah, a few miles off Gibraltar. As planned! Isn't she a beauty? No other ship in the Mediterranean would've made the trip as fast as mine!"

Sirius frowned, then turned to stare ahead, at the rock which was slowly fading into view.

And Peter smiled. Soon, they would be on the way again. If Harry was on the island, he would only have to hold out a little longer.

*****​

Wizarding Gibraltar, July 18th, 1996

"Ah! Gibraltar! The gateway to the Atlantic!" standing at the railing of his ship's bridge, Abdul spread his arms wide. "In ages past, it was the cornerstone of the British Empire!"

"Gibraltar still belongs to Britain," Peter Pettigrew pointed out. Both Wizarding Gibraltar and the muggle one.

"The whole village of Wizarding Gibraltar, yes." Abdul snorted. "Or is that Hamlet? What do you call a dozen buildings?"

"A dozen buildings and a port," Peter replied. "What do you call a side alley in Algiers? Magical Algeria."

Abdul laughed. "I'm not Algerian. But point taken. Still… any sailor with an appreciation for history can't help but feel sad at seeing how far Gibraltar has fallen."

Peter shrugged. With the advances in brooms, Portkeys and the Floo Network, as well as the loss of much of their colonies and oversea territories, Britain didn't need a fleet any more. "Well, except for the Spanish sailors." Spain still wanted the rock back - both of them. Even though Wizarding Spain didn't have any need for the port any more, either. But they had never forgotten how they lost it, back when both countries still had fleets.

Abdul laughed again. "Oh, yes! And, of course, my former colleagues who are still plying their despicable trade. They are very happy that the Royal Navy has long ago ceased to be a danger to them."

"Replaced by our Hit-Wizards and Aurors." Peter frowned a little. He wasn't much of a patriot. Not really. He knew too much about his own country to take offence at someone mocking it. But Abdul had an air to him… Like a challenge. It made Peter a little prickly, too.

"Oh, yes. Only a fool would dare raid Britain. However, your Aurors do not patrol the straits, nor do your Hit-Wizards scour the Mediterranean for pirates. They protect their own country, not anyone else."

They sailed into the port proper now. A handful of sailing ships were tied up at the piers, not more than a dozen. Small ones, too. The port could fit much more - the first wizarding governor of the port had been a little too optimistic when he ordered the magical port built after the Statute of Secrecy had caused Wizarding Britain to lose the old port to the muggles. "And yet, Britain is more capable than ever to lay waste to the entire Barbary Coast," he said. "Not that we would unless forced to."

"You mean Dumbledore is able to lay waste to the coast," Abdul corrected him. "Emir! Turn towards the free pier there!"

Peter nodded as if he conceded the point. Though, privately, he didn't share Abdul's opinion. Of course, Dumbledore overshadowed everyone - but as bloody as the war had been, it had left Britain with veterans. And a lot of alcoholics and nightmares. But, in Peter's opinion and experience, few countries, the wizarding enclaves of the East Coast of the New World one of those rare exceptions, had as many wizards and witches who had seen war. Actual war.

And a number of them would soon be sharing the deck with them, Peter added to himself when they pulled up alongside the pier.

"Finally!"

Peter shook his head at Sirius's outburst. His friend had been standing at the bow for the last half an hour as if he thought he would arrive faster that way.

"Alright, you louts!" Abdul yelled. "Secure the lines, and let us see where our new passengers are waiting."

"Right at the pier," Peter told him.

"What?" Abdul turned to look at him, then back at the pier - just in time to see a group of people apparate on it.

James, Lily and Remus, as expected. And Dumbledore.

Peter heard Abdul suck in his breath before muttering a curse under his breath at the sight of the old wizard.

"Good morning. May we come on board?" Dumbledore asked, a quick charm carrying his soft question to the bridge.

"Of course!" Abdul replied, just shy of yelling. Then he turned to face the deck and snapped: "Make way, make way, you louts! For Dumbledore!"

"Thank you." Dumbledore smiled warmly at the sailors as he stepped on deck. James and Lily, unsurprisingly, looked grim and barely managed to smile when Sirius greeted them and Remus.

"Captain Abdul." Dumbledore inclined his head at the man.

"Yes, yes. Call me Abdul!" The sailor smiled widely, but Peter was certain that he was far more nervous now. "We'll be on our way as soon as I have settled things with the harbourmaster."

"I took the liberty to handle this matter in advance," Dumbledore replied, handing Abdul a sheet of parchment.

"Oh." Abdul blinked. "You must have caught him on a very good day. Usually, he isn't awake so early."

Dumbledore chuckled. "He wasn't, actually, when we arrived. But he was very understanding of the urgency of our request."

"Right, right! And so are we! Cast off, you louts! We have no time to lose!"

*****​

Unknown Island, July 18th, 1996

Two pirates bearing down on them. And they were stuck on a small fishing boat, unable to dodge. Harry Potter clenched his teeth and sent curses at the pirates. At this distance, he didn't have a chance in hell of hitting them - but he'd make them flinch and spoil their aim. Or so he hoped.

A pirate's curse hit one of the birds Hermione had conjured, and half of the bird's body seemed to vanish in a green cloud. Another curse barely missed the boat.

Céline screamed.

Hermione conjured more birds.

And Harry kept casting Stunners.

The pirates rolled and weaved. Evasive flying. Harry's Stunners missed. But so did their curses. And they kept closing. The closer they were, the easier it would be for them to hit the boat.

But the pirates weren't close enough to be easily hit yet. And they probably wouldn't get close enough.

Or so they thought. Harry cast a pair of Cutting Curses, then glanced at Hermione.

She finished enlarging another bird, then flicked her wand.

And the birds shot towards the incoming pirates. The two pirates veered off, their brooms much faster than the birds, and started to evade them.

But they were now close enough to the birds. Or would be. Harry pointed his wand at the left-most bird. "Reducto!"

Hermione's own Reductor Curse followed a moment later.

The bird was flying in a straight line and straight away from the boat. Even Malfoy wouldn't have missed. His curse hit the bird, and the bird, together with two more, vanished in an explosion that engulfed one of the pirates as well.

Hermione's curse hit as well, and another explosion filled the sky with smoke and shredded bird parts.

The shockwaves threw the pirates away, the bone shards shattering their shields. Harry's target almost lost his grip on his broom - Harry saw him grip the shaft with both hands as he tried to regain control. Harry's Stunning Curse missed, though, and there was no bird near enough for another Reductor Curse.

Another explosion followed. Apparently, Hermione's pirate hadn't been thrown away too far from the rest of the birds. Harry glanced over and saw the pirate corkscrewing towards the water. Damaged bristles, he realised. And the Levitation Charm was failing. The pirate looked hurt as well, Harry noticed - the man was holding his side before he hit the water.

Céline was still screaming.

Harry looked at the second pirate. The man had regained control of his broom and was flying away - no, he was flying in a wide curve, away from the remaining birds. Either towards the pirate in the water or to flank their boat.

"Harry!" Hermione snapped. "We need to get moving."

"Right." He stuck his wand into the water. "Aguamenti!"

They started to move a little. Hermione was still casting more birds. Why would she…?

At least the second pirate had stopped near his wounded friend. Harry was tempted to send a curse at the man, but if the pirate dragged his friend out of the sea then he wouldn't be attacking the boat.

Though if more pirates were coming… Harry looked up. He didn't see anyone flying towards them, but they could be disillusioned. Probably were - they would have seen what had happened.

But if they were disillusioned, then Harry and Hermione's Human-presence-revealing Spell wouldn't show them until they were close enough to curse them. "We need more birds!" he hissed.

"I know. I'm casting as fast as I can," she replied in a tense voice. "Engorgio!"

A bird grew in size and started circling the boat with the others. A living shield of sorts. Not too close, of course, so the pirates couldn't copy their tactics.

But that meant that the birds had to cover too much space. Around them, above them… Harry clenched his teeth. At any moment, a pirate could arrive above them - or even in front of them - and the first thing they'd notice would be the curse flying at them.

And with just his Water-Making Spell propelling the boat forward, they were moving very slowly. Too slowly.

Half a dozen new birds joined the swarm surrounding them.

"How much longer until we're through the wards?" He asked.

"I don't know. We can still see the island, so we're not out of the protections yet," she replied. "Avis!"

Right. They might be close, or they might be too far to reach the wardline. He clenched his teeth. Just a little bit further. A little bit…

A bird exploded.

*****​

Hermione Granger couldn't help but shriek in surprise when one of her birds suddenly vanished in a small cloud of blood and gore. "Did you see where the curse came from?" she asked, looking around as she hastily conjured more birds.

"No, I…. there!" Harry snapped.

Hermione gasped once more and threw herself down in the boat moments before a green spell flashed past, hitting the water next to the bow. "They're behind us!" She directed more birds to their rear.

"They'll be circling us," Harry said.

Damn. She clenched her teeth. He was correct - the pirates would be encircling them to catch them in a crossfire from outside the range of their Human-presence-revealing Spells.

"We need to get on the brooms!" Harry yelled.

"We can't!" Hermione replied, frantically casting even more birds. "We can still see the island - we must still be inside the wards!" They wouldn't be able to pass through the wards on brooms. Probably.

Judging by Harry's cursing, he agreed.

Just as when Hermione was wondering if they had crossed the wards, another bird exploded - and the shockwave rocked the boat. Blasting Curse, she realised as she struggled to keep her balance on her knees, and Céline screamed in fright. They were copying her idea! She had to send the birds further away, but that would make it easier to target the boat…

Perhaps if they got into the water? Dived and… No. If they were too slow, a single Blasting Curse cast into the water would kill them all.

Smoke? They had nothing to burn except for the boat itself, and that would be stupid and take too long, anyway.

Two birds vanished, and another spell barely missed the boat, leaving a stain of green liquid on the sea as they sailed past it.

Then her shield shattered, struck by another curse. Once more, she dropped down, hastily recasting her Shield Charm. Céline screamed even louder. Harry grunted - he must have hit his mangled foot.

They had to get away. And fast. No choice. "Hold on!" she yelled. "Harry, hold on to Céline!"

"What?"

Another bird turned into a red mist. They were surrounded now. "Do it!"

She moved her wand as Harry scrambled past her and covered Céline. If she misjudged this… No choice. She pointed and cast.

And the sea behind them exploded. A column of water rose as the waves hit the boat, lifting it up and then pushing it forward. Hermione had to struggle to keep her grip on the bench in the boat when it went down the wave, almost diving into the sea.

"Ah! You're crazy!" she heard Harry's shout over the screaming of Céline and the noise from the water falling down amongst screeching birds.

"Hold on!" she yelled back, rising again to repeat her action. Another Blasting Curse hit the water as a bird was cut apart by a curse, and a second curse was deflected by her shield.

Once more, the sea blew up, and the shockwave pushed the boat on. And decimated the birds she had conjured, she realised as she came up.

A thin cloud of steam rose from the water as well, but it wasn't enough to obscure them. And the birds weren't numerous enough any more to shield them effectively. Although… She waved her wand and ordered the birds to the side and the stern, then cast a few more.

"Push us on!" she snapped, enlarging the next bird.

"No more explosions?"

"Not for now!" She ducked as another bird - to their side - caught a curse. There couldn't be too many pirates, and they had to be staying out of range and in motion, or they'd have been cursed already. More than one pirate, at least. But how many?

More birds moved to that side as Harry got them moving again.

"The bow's not covered!" he said.

"I know," she replied. A curse hit the sea right behind their boat, splashing seawater over them. That had come from the other side!

"Why wouldn't you… Oh!"

"We have to be close to the wardline," she snapped.

The sea erupted once more, but to the side. "That wasn't me!" she yelled as the boat was caught by the wave and almost capsized. Then she grunted with pain when she was thrown into the hull of the boat.

And Céline went overboard!

"Accio Céline's robes!" Harry yelled before Hermione could react.

The girl shot out of the water, screaming like a banshee, and flew towards them. Hermione gritted her teeth and cast a Water-Making Spell. They couldn't be too far from the wardline.

A cracking noise and a scream made her turn her head - just in time to see a flailing, jerking body falling into the sea, barely ahead of the boat.

"Lightning spell," Harry said.

The wardline! The pirate must have triggered one of the protections!

Hermione swallowed and kept the boat moving.

Now they would find out if the boat protected them against the wards.

*****​

They were at the wardline. Harry Potter clenched his teeth and held Céline. "It's OK," he whispered. "We'll be safe soon."

Or dead. Or captured, depending on the protections they'd trigger, if they were wrong about the boat being enchanted. But he couldn't tell the girl that. Even if he could speak French, he couldn't frighten her like that. If anything went wrong, it would be over quickly, anyway - judging by the example the pirate had made.

Who hadn't come up, he realised. The man had sunk under the water. If he hadn't cast a Bubble-Head Charm beforehand, he would…

Harry shook his head. That hadn't been his fault. Nor Hermione's. The pirate should've known better than to fly into his own wards. Even though Hermione had baited him. She could be rather ruthless. He tried to ignore the pain in his foot. Hermione's crazy plan had made him bang it against the boat's hull several times.

They passed the floating remains of a broom, and Harry closed his eyes. Any moment now. Any moment…

Seconds passed. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes and looked back. The island had disappeared. They were outside the wards! They had escaped the island! Yes! "We did it!" he blurted out.

Then another bird blew up. Right. The pirates couldn't follow them, but they could still send spells after them.

"We need to get on our brooms!" he snapped. "Quickly!"

"We need to take the boat with us!" Hermione protested. Her birds were now forming a sort of wall to their rear, with the pirates unable to flank and encircle them any more.

"We can summon it from afar," Harry replied, already pulling his broom out. "But we need to leave, and quickly. Before they follow us!"

"Alright," Hermione finally agreed. "You take Céline." She waved her wand, and more birds appeared.

"Of course!" Harry mounted the broom. "Come, join me!"

He needed to repeat himself twice before the trembling girl mounted the broom as well, sitting behind him.

Hermione was still conjuring and enlarging birds, but they seemed to die as quickly as she created them. And that meant she wouldn't be able to mount her broom and protect the boat.

Harry clenched his teeth. "Send the birds after them!"

A moment later, the remaining birds were flying straight back, towards the still disillusioned pirates.

"Get on your broom!" Harry snapped. And started casting Reductor Curses.

He had aimed the first curse at the left-most bird, but even so, the explosion took out two more birds.

His next curse took out two on the right.

Then most of the birds in the centre vanished in a green cloud. Something acid - he didn't recognise the spell. In exchange, he snapped off a pair of Stunners right back through the slowly drifting cloud.

Hermione had finally mounted her broom. "Let's go!" he yelled.

"Not yet!" She waved her wand. The boat shrank.

And the sea below exploded.

Harry heard Hermione scream a moment before the water engulfed them, and he was swatted away, thrown through the sky, his broom turning and twisting uncontrollably. And Céline was gone!

He gasped, forcing the broom to level out. "Accio Céline's clothes!" he yelled, flicking his wand.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then something flew through the steam and falling water. Towards him. The little girl! He reached out to grab her, pulling her onto the broom in front of him, this time.

She was drenched like Harry himself and crying and trembling, but alive. That left…

"Hermione!" he yelled. She had been closer - she would've been thrown off the broom and into the water. "Accio Hermione's clothes!"

Another figure shot towards him. Still on a broom. And coming in far too fast! Gasping, he grabbed Céline and rolled, just in time to avoid getting speared by Hermione's broom as she shot past him.

"Harry! What are you doing?"

He ended the spell. How had she managed… He saw the way she rode, legs sticking out, but still stuck to the broom… Oh. Of course, she would've stuck herself to the broom. "I thought you had fallen off!" he yelled back.

"What? How…"

She was interrupted by more Blasting Curses hitting the sea below them, showering them with more hot seawater. And a few other curses flew towards them.

"Let's get out of here!" he yelled.

"Yes!" Hermione shouted back.

And they were off, racing westwards, the pirates' curses quickly tapering off.

They had escaped the island and the pirates.

For now.

They still needed to reach land. And they were currently flying away from the African coast.

*****​

"We need to change course," Hermione Granger said as she flew closer to Harry and Céline. She tried to adjust her position on the broom, but she couldn't get comfortable. She needed to end the Sticking Charm, she realised, but if the pirates managed to send another Blasting Curse at them...

"Yes. But we can't do that in sight of the pirates!" Harry replied. "They'll be able to follow us, otherwise."

"They can't pass through their own spells without a boat," Hermione told him. They should've destroyed the other boats when they had the chance.

"They can shrink their boat and carry it to the wardline," Harry retorted. "I bet they're doing that."

"They still need to fly back and return," Hermione pointed out. "And they won't be able to rush forward."

"Still, we need to gain more distance to lose them," Harry said. "And we need to fly lower to the sea."

She clenched her teeth. Lower? Skimming the waves? Yes, that would allow them to hide from the pirates more easily, but… it would also make crashing into the water easier. No time to correct any mistake.

But they had no choice, so she guided her broom downward. Not quite as low as Harry took his - his shoes had to touch the tops of the waves when he flew over them! But low enough. Or so she hoped. If the pirates managed to follow them… they wouldn't be able to escape. Not with three people on two brooms. She knew that Harry was the better flyer, yet she had to slow down to keep pace with him.

But they had no choice. Shrinking Céline was too dangerous in their current position. Reeling from their fight and escape, on top of speeding brooms, tired after a sleepless night… it would be worse than that Charms test in third year after she hadn't slept at all for a day. That had been her most humiliating experience in class.

And she would happily switch to suffer through that for a month instead of fleeing from pirates on a looted broom.

She looked over her shoulder. She couldn't see any pirates, but since they were disillusioned… She should've left some birds at the wardline, to know when they were out of sight. But the pirates would have destroyed them anyway.

So, they had to play it safe. Fly straight away, to gain the most distance - and hope the pirates didn't catch up before they changed directions. It wasn't ideal, but, on the other hand, even if they were flying straight away, the pirates would have to search a large area of empty ocean. And as history showed, that was harder than it appeared.

She smiled. They could do this. Soon, they would be able to turn south, then east. The sun was still rising, but it was easy to determine the directions even without a Four-Point Spell. As long as they could see… She blinked, then frowned. Those clouds hadn't been in the sky earlier today, had they? The sky in the east was turning overcast.

Hermione bit her lower lip. Overcast wasn't bad. England had plenty of such weather. It would even be helpful if they didn't have to suffer the full tropical sun on their flight.

But the clouds were growing quite thick in the east. And quite dark.

They might have a problem at hand.

For the next ten minutes, she was looking back more to check the clouds rather than for pursuit. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, the sky was darkening. And the wind was growing stronger.

"We have a problem," she told Harry.

"Pirates?" He looked over his shoulder, and she saw his eyes widen. "Oh."

"No. Worse. A storm's brewing," she said.

"Yeah."

"We might be able to outrun it, but…"

"'Might', yes." Harry shook his head. "Can we fly around it?"

"We can try. We should head south anyway."

"Yes."

They turned south. The sun was still visible, if barely, and Hermione quickly checked their direction with the Four-Point Spell. Directly south.

"At least that should keep the pirates from following us," Harry said.

Hermione snorted. That was a very slim silver lining. Although they probably had better chances to survive a tropical storm than another pirate attack. Just how much better was the question.

They flew on, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they wouldn't be able to get out of the way of the storm before it overtook them. Hermione could already see the rain in the distance, the sky was now completely overcast and the winds were doing their best to push them off-course.

"We can't go on much longer," she told Harry - and she had to raise her voice, too, so she could be heard.

"We have to try," he replied. "The more distance we gain, the better!"

"We have to prepare for the storm!" she shot back.

"How?"

"By going underwater!"

"What?"

"We can ride out the storm underwater!"

Harry stared at her.

She stared back. It wasn't a perfect plan. Not even a good plan - they wouldn't be able to stay close to the surface but had to dive down at least a little. And the storm would mean the waters would be darker than normal. She really wasn't looking forward to spending hours underwater in the dark and probably cold as well, with only a Bubble-Head Charm to keep them alive.

But it beat trying to ride out a tropical storm in a fishing boat or on a broom. That would be suicide - the boat would be sunk, and the brooms would be dragged apart or battered into the water.

So, either way, they'd end up in the water, and Hermione would rather do it on her own terms. And with at least some time spent preparing.

"Alright," Harry said. "But you need to explain it to Céline."

Hermione winced but nodded. "Prepare the rope so we can tie ourselves to each other." They had to ensure they wouldn't be separated no matter what.

By the time she had explained things to Céline and had calmed the poor girl down, rain was hitting their Shield Charms, and it was as dark as if it were late in the evening. And the winds were already starting to overcome the brooms' enchantments.

It was time to dive.

Hermione recast the Bubble-Head Charms on herself and Céline while Harry tied them together and cast his own charm.

Then they lowered themselves into the water, shrunk the brooms and dived down.

*****​

The water was warm at the surface. But as they dived - clumsily, since they were tied and stuck together - it grew colder. Harry Potter leaned forward, pressing his head to Hermione's, so their Bubble-Head Charms overlapped. "We can't dive too deep," he said. "The cold will kill us."

"Hypothermia, yes," she agreed. "But we need to find a way to get neutral buoyancy. So we don't sink further and won't resurface either."

"Well, we better do it fast," Harry said. He glanced up. "The surface's already getting thrashed by wind and waves."

"Technically, the waves are the result of the wind," Hermione said.

He snorted in return.

"Alright. I've got some rocks with us. If we can enlarge them, we should be able to adjust our buoyancy," she went on.

"Let's get started," Harry said.

Hermione struggled a little to get the rocks out - he felt her arm wriggle between them and Céline as she pushed it into her pocket - but she finally managed to get them. "Hold them!"

"Alright." He held one in his hand. It was about the size of an egg.

Then he held a rock the size of a football in his hand - and had to grab it with both hands, awkwardly since he still held his wand, before it slipped and vanished in the depths.

"Let's see if that's enough. Just wait," Hermione said.

But a few minutes later, they were close to bopping on the surface, and only a hastily cast Enlargement Charm that turned the football-sized rock into a torso-sized small boulder dropped them before the storm dragged them away.

It took three more tries before they had a somewhat balanced buoyancy, and even so, Harry thought they were slowly descending. He'd have to keep an eye on that, even though Hermione declared that they were fine.

Clearly, they wouldn't be able to rest underwater during the storm. Not both of them together. "We'll have to take turns resting," he told Hermione.

"We should be fine in the water." He could barely make out that she was frowning; the light was almost completely gone.

"We're not stable. We might sink too low if we both fall asleep." Harry suppressed a yawn that threatened to overwhelm him right then - that would've been the worst timing; Hermione would offer to take first watch, and she had to be more exhausted than he was.

"But…" She yawned - he heard it more than he saw it.

"No 'but'. Sleep while I keep watch. I'll wake in an hour."

"Can you read your watch without light?"

"I can cast a Wand-Lighting Spell," he retorted.

"Oh, right. I thought it could attract fish, but…"

"You're exhausted. Rest," he repeated himself.

After some more grumbling, she finally agreed, and he soon felt her body relax. Céline had fallen asleep already. He hugged the girl with one arm - she was at the greatest danger of freezing.

They could only hope that the storm wouldn't last too long.

*****​

"Harry! Wake up! Harry!"

Harry Potter felt some pain in his side - someone had poked him - and opened his eyes. "What?"

"We need to resurface," Hermione told him. "Céline's shivering in her sleep, and I can't get her to wake up."

Harry cursed and looked up. Well, what he thought was up. He didn't see any light. "Is the storm still going on?"

"We'll have to find out," she replied. "If it's still going on…"

Harry nodded, clenching his teeth. If they couldn't get the boat out on the surface, Céline would…

Hermione flicked her wand, cancelling the charm on the rock, and Harry felt them slowly starting to move.

Then he saw a dim light above them, growing stronger. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

They broke surface thirty seconds later, and Harry took a deep breath - out of reflex; the Bubble-Head Charm was still working. The sky was still overcast, but the storm was… well, mostly gone. The waves were higher than when they had set out but manageable. And the rain had stopped.

"Let's get the boat out. We need to warm up Céline!" Hermione snapped.

Taking the boat out didn't take long - Harry held it up, and Hermione cancelled the Shrinking Charm on it. And his Shield Charm stopped the hull from braining him. Climbing into the boat took a little longer - or rather, after a few attempts, they resorted to levitating their clothes to get on board before the waves carried the boat away.

But then they were sitting inside the boat. Hermione cast a Drying Charm and then kept it going, letting the blast of hot air warm up Céline and Harry - her own clothes had dried up quickly, being rather smaller than the others'.

And Céline started to warm up as well; Harry could see her lips returning to their normal colour - well, he assumed they were her normal colour; he hadn't taken a good look at her during daylight so far.

But while she was still shivering and sniffling, she was awake again. She would live, as far as he could tell. Which was a great relief. If she had died because they hadn't been prepared to ride out a storm… Hermione would have never forgiven herself.

"So… now, do we head east? Or south then east?" he asked.

"Once we are able to use the brooms, South, then east - we don't know how far the storm drove us off-course," Hermione replied. "The storm, and the natural currents of the ocean. We can't take the risk of flying into the island's protections."

"What if we were dragged north and then east?" Harry asked.

"That's…" Hermione bit her lower lip. "That's unlikely. Very unlikely."

But he could hear some doubt in her voice. "We could fly west for a while, then head south," he suggested.

"We can't spend too much time on the ocean. Sooner or later, we'll have to rest, and keeping the boat out makes us vulnerable," Hermione retorted. "We should…" She gasped, her eyes widening.

Harry turned his head and looked over his shoulder.

A glowing thing was headed straight for them.

*****​

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 30: The Rescue

Unknown Island, July 18th, 1996

"We're close," the captain announced as he lowered his sextant. "Now, we'll find out whether or not our prisoner told us the truth!"

Lily Potter, standing on the bridge of the ship nearby - if you could call the area a bridge; she wasn't a sailor, after all - narrowed her eyes. "Are you questioning whether or not the Veritaserum worked?" She had brewed the potion herself, and while she might not be quite as gifted at Potions as Severus, and might have focused on spellcrafting instead of potions research after Hogwarts, she had earned her Outstanding N.E.W.T. in the subject.

"Oh, no. But it wouldn't be the first time that a pirate doesn't know as much as they think they know. Smart pirates take precautions against the exact thing we are attempting." Abdul grinned at her. "Isn't this exciting?"

Lily didn't think so. The pirate - former pirate - might enjoy the risk of things going awry, but she didn't. They were here to save Harry. And Hermione. Not to have an adventure. Besides, the man's bravado rang a little hollow to her. She had experience with braggarts, after all - teenage James and Sirius, especially. "The only way that our prisoner might have concealed things from us would be a very complicated Memory Charm."

"Exactly! So, it's not impossible that this might end with us fighting for our lives, caught in the island's wards."

"We have experience with such charms," Lily said, not quite rolling her eyes. Bloody experience. She pressed her lips together at the memories of people screaming with terror and pain.

"And I can assure you, my friend, that even a thorough examination of our prisoner's mind has not revealed even a hint of such a charm." Dumbledore smiled as he joined them at the railing.

"Ah, of course." Abdul's seemingly confident grin had vanished the moment he had noticed Dumbledore taking an interest in their conversation.

Lily smiled. She didn't like braggarts. Or people who sought out danger for kicks. She briefly wondered if Abdul would be different if he had fought in the Blood War. James and herself certainly had changed a lot.

The captain cleared his throat. "Anyway, we're close to the island. So, to continue sailing towards it will risk triggering the spells protecting it. We'll have to slow down and prepare to cross the wards."

"Not for a few more miles," Dumbledore told him with a polite smile.

"How would… of course," Abdul nodded a little jerkily.

"And rest assured, I'll be able to cast the spells necessary to pass through the island's protections quickly enough so we won't have to slow down," Dumbledore went on.

And there was Abdul's broad smile again. The man either had a mercurial temperament or had missed a great career as an actor. "Perfect! Storming an island at the Great Dumbledore's side - this will be a tale worth a thousand drinks! Perhaps even a tale worth a French bride?" He cocked his head sideways. "You wouldn't vouch for my character after this, would you?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I will certainly give my honest appraisal of your character, Captain, should you desire so."

"Ah… I'll have to consider this very carefully, then," Abdul replied with a forced smile. "But now…" He turned and bellowed something in Arabian to the deck below.

And the sailors rose, wands and blades raised to the sky, as they yelled in return.

"He told them to get ready for combat," Dumbledore explained.

"Thank you."

"And so should we," James said, stepping up to Lily. "As soon as we're through the wards, we're flying off."

She nodded. She would cast a Patronus Charm to send after Harry, and they would follow it. Abdul and his cutthroats could handle whoever was in the harbour; Lily, James and their friends would fly directly to her baby.

Dumbledore would do whatever he felt was necessary, of course. They'd have to trust him - but then, he had earned that trust, over and over, during the war.

She wet her lips. It was barely past noon now, and the heat was, even with the charms on her duelling robes, getting a little uncomfortable. But not much longer, now, and she would be in the air. Flying towards Harry.

He had to be on the island. He had to be.

"May I have your attention, please?" Dumbledore's amplified voice rang out over the ship. Instantly, the rowdy sailors fell silent. "We're closing on the wardline. We've already passed the Muggle-Repelling Charms. I will now cast the spell needed to pass through the actual protections."

The spell he had retrieved from the captured pirate's mind. At the cost of damaging the man's memory. Lily pushed the slight guilt she felt away. This was for Harry.

"I bet he's cutting it close," Sirius mumbled next to her.

"Shhh," Remus chimed in.

Fleur and Bill were a little off, hugging each other once more.

And Peter, as usual, remained a little apart from everyone else.

Dumbledore suddenly waved his wand in a complicated pattern, then raised it and spoke a single word. A light flashed over the entire ship, glowing motes racing up the mast, then disappeared.

A moment later, Lily felt as if a faint mist brushed over her face.

Then an island appeared in front of them as the spells hiding it stopped working, and Lily froze for a moment.

There was a capsized ship in the harbour, and at least two buildings had burned down.

She gasped. Had that been caused by the storm they had encountered earlier? No! The charms on Abdul's ship had easily held the storm's power at bay. Surely, any pirate ship would be similarly protected. That meant… someone else had attacked these pirates! Oh, no - Harry! What if he had been hurt in the fighting?

"Expecto Patronum!" She flicked her wand as her Patronus appeared in front of her. "Harry! We're coming for you!" She held her breath as the doe pranced.

Then her spell sped away, and she gasped with relief. Harry was alive! And he was on the island! Behind the protections, as they had thought! They had found him!

"It's too fast!" James yelled.

What? Lily looked. The translucent deer had already disappeared from view - and it hadn't been heading towards the island but out towards the open sea. She almost flew after it - but they had just passed the wardline; she would fly directly into the protections. "We need to turn back and leave!" she yelled.

"Heads up!" Bill yelled. "The pirates are coming!"

And indeed - half a dozen pirates were already rising into the air on brooms. And more were gathering at the shore.

Abdul yelled something in Arabian, and his crew sent curses towards the shore. Most spells missed, but a Blasting Curse hit the beach, and the explosion threw up a cloud of sand and dust.

"We'll take the flyers!" James snapped. "Take them down quickly so we can go after Harry!"

"Allow me," Dumbledore said, his voice still amplified.

Lily looked at him just in time to see him wave his wand. A moment later, the flying pirates were driven back, scattered by a strong wind.

The wind also dispersed the cloud of sand and revealed that one pirate had been felled.

Abdul's ship was still sailing on but turning to the left now, the crew sending curse after curse at the village. One building caught fire, but most spells didn't seem to do much - the distance was too great and the spells more apt to disable or kill people than damage houses.

Dumbledore stepped up to the railing and cast another spell. The capsized ship started to float - in the air. Big streams of water ran down its hull as it rose from the waves.

For a moment, everyone seemed to stare at the sight. An entire ship, flying through the air. One sailor near Lily muttered what sounded like a prayer, and Lily guided her broom upwards - if that ship fell into the water, it would cause a huge splash.

Once more, Dumbledore's voice rang out - over the entire harbour, it seemed. Lily couldn't understand what he said, other than that he mentioned his own name. While he floated the ship above the village, water kept falling from the holes in the hull.

The pirates broke. Some knelt down, dropping their wands, others turned and ran or flew away.

Abdul's crew cheered, and they quickly got onto their brooms, racing to secure the village. And their loot, Lily realised.

"No!" she said. "We need to turn back. Harry's outside the wards!" And there had been that terrible storm before they arrived...

Dumbledore didn't answer, but the pirate ship slowly started to fly back to the water, sinking lower and lower - and turning upright. Lily saw the holes in its hull and deck and wondered what kind of spell had done this. Some holes looked like the result of an overpowered piercing curse. Like a cannonball.

She shook her head. "We need to get Harry!" He was alive, but he could be hurt.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, letting the pirate ship settle in the water, then sighed. "We will have to wait a little until the village is secure. And we need to find out who attacked it before us - it would not do to run into a second group and start a fight we might have been able to avoid."

Lily wanted to protest, but the Headmaster was correct. But Abdul better hurry up! Harry was out there, in need of help!

"Let's speed things up!" James snapped. "Follow me!"

He flew off, the rest of their group chasing after him.

"Fan out and secure the pirates on the beach. Watch out for stragglers hiding in the houses!"

Lily suppressed the impulse to tell James that she had fought in the war as well; he had been doing this for years as Head Auror. Instead, she flew close to the shore and started casting Stunning Curses and Incarcerous Spells to secure the pirates who had surrendered.

"Should we hunt down the ones fleeing?"

"No. Secure the village, first," James said.

"I concur," Dumbledore agreed - when had he arrived? Lily watched as he took a look at the burning remains of a large building. "I wonder what happened here." A flick of his wand summoned the remains of a fence. No, bars.

"A prison, Albus?" Lily asked.

"It seems so," Dumbledore replied. "Although a rather large one."

"For slaves and hostages," Fleur hissed.

Like… Harry! Lily clenched her teeth. "They kept Harry in this prison?"

"That is what we need to find out, I believe," Dumbledore replied.

"Whoever attacked the village would have freed him," Sirius said. "Your spell didn't point at the prison. But who did this?"

"We'll find out," Lily said and pulled out a vial of Veritaserum.

*****​

Dumbledore repeated his question. Lily Potter didn't know what he was asking since the pirate didn't speak English, but she noticed that Dumbledore had asked the same question twice in a row now.

And now for a third time - at least she thought so. She glanced at Abdul, who was shaking his head. "What are they saying?" she whispered.

"It's nonsense," Abdul said. "They must have been fooled."

"What are they saying?" Lily repeated herself.

"They claim this - the ship sunk, the village set on fire, some guardian beast killed, a prisoner freed - was done by two wizards. No, a wizard and a witch." Abdul shook his head again.

Lily looked around. It wasn't impossible. With surprise and the right spells… Wait. "A wizard and a witch? How did they look?"

"I bet they were ten feet tall, both of them," Abdul said with a laugh while Dumbledore asked another question.

Lily didn't laugh.

"Lily? You don't think… Harry did this?" Remus sounded incredulous.

She didn't answer. She stared at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster seemed bemused as he turned to face them. "According to the description given by this gentleman here, they were attacked by a 'British wizard with hair the colour of the darkest night and a witch with a mane of brown hair, both of them wearing muggle clothes'."

Lily blinked. That sounded like…

"Harry did this?" Sirius blurted out. "Impossible!"

*****​

Atlantic Ocean, July 18th, 1996

"Down!"

Hermione Granger dropped automatically, grabbing her wand, when Harry yelled. Turning around, she saw a glowing light approaching the boat and gasped. If the pirates had found them…

Then she realised what they were seeing. A glowing, flying deer. A white, translucent doe. A Patronus Charm! Warmth filled her.

Céline made a surprised sound.

Harry gasped as well. "Mum…" he whispered.

"Harry! We're coming for you!" a female voice - Mrs Potter's, she recognised it - rang out as the doe pranced in front of them, standing on empty air.

"We're on the Atlantic Ocean!" Hermione blurted out.

Harry coughed as the doe faded. "The spell can't hear you. It's strictly a message spell. One-way."

"Oh." Hermione frowned. "That's…" That wasn't as useful as she thought it would have been. On the other hand, if the recipient knew the spell as well, they could easily communicate like that.

"But they can find us now. And they're looking for us," Harry stated the obvious. He was beaming, though.

As was Hermione. They hadn't been abandoned! People were still looking for them! And they were no longer hidden by the island's protections - they would be saved soon!

"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" Céline asked. She sounded timid and exhausted - unsurprisingly, of course - but also hopeful. Hermione saw her smiling shily.

"C'etait une message de la mère de Harry," she replied.

"Oh! On est sauvés?"

"Oui!" Hermione replied. They were saved. Or would be, soon. They just had to wait until they were found. She blinked. "Can they follow the spell to us?"

"Uh…" Harry briefly bit his lower lip. "I don't think so. They never did when they sent the spell after me before. Though… the spell doesn't appear instantly. It flies. And we saw it coming."

"It came from the east. Northeast," Hermione pointed out. "Unless we were blown off course, that's where the island should be." The island full of pirates. If the Potters had stumbled on it…

Harry, though, was chuckling. "Oh! Serves them right!"

"What?" Hermione frowned at him.

"Mum and Dad won't be alone. They'll have all their friends with them. Probably all the Aurors, too," Harry explained. "Those pirates have no chance!"

"Oh." Of course, the Potters wouldn't be alone, but with the Aurors. And maybe even with Dumbledore. Hermione shook her head at her own naivety. A band of pirates wouldn't be able to stand up to such a force. Especially not this specific band of pirates. "So… now we just wait?" If you were lost in the woods, you were supposed to wait at one spot so you could be found more easily. But they were in the middle of the ocean.

"Yes," Harry said. "They'll find us."

He sounded so confident. Hermione smiled. "What spell will they be using?"

"Uh…" He blinked. "I don't know. But they'll find us. If everything fails, they can keep casting the Patronus Charm and just follow the directions until they find us."

Hermione nodded. That sounded logical. And, using brooms, they would be able to cover long distances quickly. Though… "Then we should be seeing more spells soon."

"Yes." Harry nodded.

They waited in silence for about a minute. No more Patronuses arrived.

"They must be busy. Probably with the pirates," Harry speculated.

"That makes sense," Hermione agreed. Though she couldn't help but worry. Why had they sent the first spell out if they weren't ready to follow up with more? Just to assure them that help was coming? That had to be it. Otherwise… No! She wouldn't worry herself with hypotheticals.

But as more time passed without any spells arriving, she started to worry. As did Harry. He didn't say anything, but she saw how he was clenching his teeth and staring at the sky, towards the east.

Still no Patronus. Hermione wanted to ask how much time had passed - Harry still had his watch - but that would… she didn't want to make him worry even more. But they couldn't just keep sitting around and waiting to be saved. What if some pirates were looking for them, and the others were still fighting the rescue party?

"Do you think we should move?" she asked.

"I… I don't know. Mum and Dad are fine. They can handle the pirates. We handled them, after all. And they won't be alone."

He was repeating himself. And he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. Hermione took a deep breath. "I think we…"

She trailed off as she saw another bright light coming towards them. And two more. A Doe. A Stag. And a dog.

And she smiled as three voices talked over each other, and light and warmth once more filled her.

They were safe.

*****​

"Harry! We're coming!" "Harry! Hold out! We're on the way!" "Don't worry, we have everything under control!"

Harry Potter didn't mind that Mum, Dad and Sirius's voices were talking over each other as their Patronuses flew around the boat. He felt good. Better than ever. Even his foot didn't seem to hurt as much any more.

Mum and Dad were coming. And Sirius. They were saved. He closed his eyes and sighed with relief as the animals faded. "They're coming," he whispered.

"Les parents d'Harry sont en route," Hermione told Céline. "Nous sommes sauvés!"

The little girl cheered and chattered in French - too fast for Harry to catch. Even Hermione seemed to have trouble understanding her. It didn't matter, anyway. Soon, they would be safe. And home.

"Do you see anyone?" Hermione asked. "We don't know how far we are from the island."

"No," Harry replied. But he was staring at the horizon. If they weren't too far from the island, then Mum and Dad could be here quickly. They had the best brooms money could buy. As did Sirius. Speed was life in a battle as well as in Quidditch, as Harry's godfather liked to say.

He didn't see any approaching brooms, though. But they were coming. He knew it.

Another set of Patronuses arrived - the same as before.

"We're coming!" "Almost there!" "Don't run off!"

"'Don't run off?" Hermione asked. He looked at her - she had raised her eyebrows.

Frowning, he told her: "When I was little, I used to do that when they sent a Patronus after me."

"Ah." Was she smirking? It was hard to tell; she had been smiling widely since the first Patronuses had arrived.

"They must be really worried," he said. He hadn't done that in ages. Well, at least a year. But that had been justified.

"Of course they are. We've been missing for almost two weeks," she said. "My parents must have been sick with worry as well. Do you think they brought them as well?"

"To fight pirates?" He cocked his head at her.

She blushed and scowled at the same time. It was a silly question - why would they bring muggles on a rescue mission?

He didn't tell her so, though, and looked back at the horizon. And he saw something move, something dark. "I see something!" He held his breath. Were those…?

A few seconds later, he could make out details. Broom riders! Half a dozen of them!

Mum and Dad were here!

"Over here!" he yelled, waving.

"We're here!" Hermione's voice rang out - she had cast an Amplifying Charm.

He frowned at himself for missing the obvious spell, then copied her. "We're here!"

Céline started waving as well. "On est ici!"

And the brooms homed in on them. He could see Dad in the front - the red robes were a dead giveaway, and he was the best flyer amongst the three. Sirius was right behind him; Harry recognised the sheen of his duelling robes. And there was Mum! "Mum!" Harry caught himself sniffling and wiped his eyes. "Mum!"

"Is that… Dumbledore?" he heard Hermione ask. "On a broom?"

He tore his eyes off Mum and blinked. Yes, that was the Headmaster. Riding a broom. And quite skilled - his posture was perfect. Oh. "Those pirates are dead!" Harry blurted out. With his Amplifying Charm still on.

"Harry!" Dad stopped in front of the boat. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry told him - after cancelling the spell.

"Except for your mangled foot," Hermione remarked.

"Your foot?" Dad asked.

"Harry!" Mum almost jumped off her broom. At the last moment, she seemed to realise that she couldn't just land in the boat and climbed down into the boat. "Oh, Harry! We were so worried!" she said as she hugged him. Mum! Safe at last.

"Watch his foot!" Hermione exclaimed.

"His foot?" Mum said, gasping as she pulled back and looked down.

"It's not broken," Harry told her.

"Not any more," Hermione added. "As far as we can tell. But it needs to be seen to by a Healer."

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. "What did you do?"

Mum waved her wand at it. Then she gasped. "Merlin's beard, Harry! It's… what did you do?"

"Broom accident," Harry told her. "I rammed a tree."

"Broom? You didn't have your broom with you...." Dad said.

Harry was about to explain when the rest of the group arrived.

"Céline!" Fleur exclaimed. "Céline de Ciel!"

And more French followed between her and the little girl.

"Harry needs a Healer!" Mum exclaimed. "And we need to get everyone back to the ship!"

"You have a ship?" Harry asked.

"We hired a dhow with crew," Dumbledore explained. "And yes, I believe we should return to them post-haste. We cannot expect them to stay outside the wards forever, not with most of their crew on the island and several pirates still not accounted for."

"We can fly," Harry said, pulling his broom out. "Just not too fast with Céline riding with us."

Hermione was already on her broom.

"You had a broom with you?" Dad repeated his question.

"No," Harry told him as Céline climbed up behind him. "We took them from the pirates."

"What?" "What?" "You did what?" "Harry!"

"They attacked us first," Hermione quickly added.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to help at all.

*****​

"What were you doing?"

"What were they doing?"

"What happened?"

"I believe we should wait with more questions until we are back on the ship."

"Ah, of course, Albus."

"Yes."

"But…"

"No buts!"

Hermione Granger smiled at the Headmaster's words. The middle of the ocean, on brooms, wasn't the place to explain what they had done. What they'd had to do to stay alive, she corrected herself. They hadn't done anything wrong, after all. All they had done had been perfectly justified.

She hoped the Aurors would share her view. Technically, they had been using magic while underage, and she wasn't entirely sure if being stuck on an island justified breaking that statute. It should, but the Ministry's laws weren't always fair. Or sane. Especially with regards to muggleborns.

Still, it couldn't be too bad. They were alive and safe. Finally. Harry's foot would be treated. Healed. Céline would be reunited with her family. Hermione would be reunited with her parents!

Dad and Mum… She missed them. And her friends. Lavender! Oh, dear Lord - they must have been so worried! Harry was lucky - his parents were both here. And fawning over him. Which was perfectly understandable, of course. It wasn't their fault that Hermione's parents weren't wizards and couldn't be here.

They were flying in a wide turn, she noticed. Avoiding the island's wards? But how did they know where… Oh. Dumbledore was leading them now. Of course, he would know how to avoid the wardline!

Then she saw the ship on the horizon, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. The pirates had returned! She gasped, her wand appearing in her hand before she realised it. "Harry!"

"Yes!" Harry, too, had his wand out.

"Harry? What are you doing?" Mrs Potter asked.

"That's the ship we hired!" Mr Potter said.

Oh. Hermione blinked. It looked so much like the pirate ship…

"You hired pirates?" Harry blurted out.

"What?"

"We hired former pirates, Mr Potter," the Headmaster explained - without looking back, Hermione noted. "I can assure you that they hold no love for the pirates whom you've met and revealed themselves to be quite trustworthy during our voyage to the island."

"As long as you were there to keep an eye on them, Albus," a man with black hair and an aristocratic manner added.

Judging by the Headmaster's chuckle, he didn't disagree.

Hermione frowned. That didn't really endear the ships' crew to her. If they only were trustworthy as long as they were cowed by Dumbledore… She glanced at Harry. He didn't seem to be happy, either.

Well, Dumbledore was with them. That counted for something.

Hermione would still keep her wand ready. Just in case.

They approached the ship.

"Ahoy!" a big wizard dressed like a pirate shouted, waving to them from the bridge. "You've found your wayward children, I gather!"

Children? Hermione narrowed her eyes at the man. They weren't children - they were teenagers. Hermione was a little over two months from being an adult in Wizarding Britain.

"We found them! But we need a Healer!" Mr Potter yelled back even as the first of their group landed on the ship's deck.

"A Healer?" The man - apparently the ship's captain - yelled something in another language. Hermione only caught a name: Ahmed.

Then she landed and dismounted, shrinking the broom and stuffing it into her pocket before anyone could take it from her.

Another wizard approached them, and Céline shied away from him, clutching at Harry's shirt - he was still astride his broom.

"Calme-toi! Il n'y a aucun risque. On va te protéger," a witch told Céline - one of the Potters' friends. And one of the most beautiful women Hermione had ever seen, now that she took a second look at her. A Veela, she realised. And French.

Céline still looked scared, though.

"N'aie pas peur," Hermione said, showing her wand. "On est en garde."

That seemed to help. Céline released Harry but stayed close even as the wizard examined Harry's foot.

The apparent Healer said something to the captain, who translated. "He says it needs a few spells, but it's nothing serious."

Hermione clenched her teeth - it most certainly was serious! And extremely painful! But she held her tongue.

"He also asks permission to treat the boy," the captain went on.

"He has it," Mr Potter said. Mrs Potter nodded.

Harry clenched his teeth, Hermione noticed. They hadn't asked him.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?"

She turned her head. Who… "Professor Lupin!" she blurted out. Of course - she had known he was a friend of Harry's parents, so she should have expected his presence.

He smiled at her and repeated his question.

"Ah." Hermione nodded. "I'm fine," she said.

"Good, good. We'll have you back with your parents in no time," Mr Lupin told her. "Don't worry."

They were treating her and Harry like Céline, she realised. Like children.

Hermione didn't like that. Not at all. But she managed to smile when Harry, a little belatedly, introduced everyone to her.

*****​

Harry Potter sighed with relief when the pain in his foot vanished. This was… "Merlin's beard, this feels good!" He exclaimed. "Thank you!"

The sailor healing him nodded and stood, saying something in Arabian. Probably. Harry still didn't know what language they were speaking. He smiled at the man anyway and repeated himself. "Thank you."

Then he poked and gripped his foot, squeezing a little. No pain. Then he stood, pulling himself up with the help of his broom, before putting weight on the foot. Still no pain.

"It seems healed," Hermione said. She was staring at it as if she wanted to check herself - he saw her wand twitch a little before she pressed it to her leg.

"Yes," Harry agreed. He took a few more steps, feeling the polished wooden deck under his bare foot. "A bit tender, but it's OK now."

"Good." She nodded.

"I can't believe you were walking around like this!" Mum blurted out. She was frowning even as she hugged him again. And Dad stepped closer, rubbing his head and ruffling his hair.

"I wasn't walking," Harry protested. "I was staying on the broom."

"Or hopping or crawling," Hermione added.

"I didn't crawl," he disagreed.

"That's not the point!" Mum insisted. She released him and wiped some tears from her face. Then she turned to Hermione. "And you, Miss Granger! Are you hurt?"

"No!" Hermione shook her head, her ponytail almost hitting her face.

"Better check her anyway," Harry told Mum. She had been banged around, after all - he could see the bruises.

Hermione glared at him for that, but he met her eyes. There was no reason not to get checked out by a Healer.

Although… Hermione was really tense, he realised when the Healer waved his wand at her. Oh - the wizard did look like one of the pirates they had fought. "Sorry," Harry mouthed at her.

She nodded in return.

"It's OK," Mum told them. "You're safe."

"Yes, Mum," Harry agreed. Though he couldn't help feeling a little tense, standing on the deck. Which reminded him… He pulled his shoe out and put it on while the Healer finished with Hermione. Harry saw the bruises disappear under healing spells.

"You are slightly malnourished and in need of rest, but healthy otherwise, Miss Granger," Dumbledore translated whatever the Healer told him. "The same as Mr Potter, actually."

"Malnourished?" Mum gasped as if she had been told they'd be dying.

"We had to make do with coconuts, mostly," Hermione explained. "And some fish, but fishing was often too dangerous."

"Yes. And the wyvern wasn't really edible," Harry joked.

"The wyvern?" That was Dad. And he was frowning as well. Shouldn't he be smiling? It was a joke.

"There was a wyvern on the island. It was hunting us, and so we had to kill it," Harry explained. "Please don't tell Hagrid!" The professor would never forgive them.

"Or Luna," Hermione added. "Luna Lovegood."

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Best keep that a secret, OK?" He smiled at the others.

Mum and Dad were staring at him, though. As if he had asked them to kill the neighbour's cat. Or told them he had killed it.

"A wyvern? A great flying dragon-like beast?" Uncle Remus asked. "And it was hunting you?"

"The captured pirates did mention something like it," Dumbledore said. "Quite a large specimen, according to them, though sailors have a habit of embellishing their tales."

"Well, it wasn't that big," Harry said. "Like…" he moved his hands about a yard apart. "Like this, right, Hermione?"

She nodded. "That was the size of its mouth, yes."

More gasping.

"You fought… you killed such a monster?" Mum looked pale.

Oh, damn. He glanced at Hermione and winced.

"We trapped it," Hermione said. "We didn't fight it out with wands versus claws."

"And we were safe in a cave. And later a shelter," Harry added.

"Safe? When fighting a wyvern?" Dad sounded angry.

"It was too big to enter the cave," Harry explained. "It got stuck."

"That was your trap?" Uncle Remus asked.

"No, we used spikes with barbs," Harry told him. "The cave was when we hid after the first trap failed. But we got it the second time when we used a pit with spikes."

"And bent trunks to smash it onto the spikes." Hermione interrupted him with a nod. "And lead poisoning."

"It took a while, but we got it." Harry nodded as well.

"I think you should tell us exactly what you did since you disappeared from Knockturn Alley," Mum said in a rather clipped tone. The last time she had spoken like this, Harry remembered, had been when Rose's Potions experiment had almost set the house on fire despite the Protective Charms that should have prevented that.

He winced again.

*****​

"...and then the wyvern succumbed to its accumulated injuries," Hermione Granger finished her tale - well, it felt more like a report. Only that instead of researching in the library, she had to remember every detail herself.

"And we buried the carcass, so it wouldn't attract scavengers and such," Harry added.

"Merlin's beard!" the aristocratic wizard - Mr Black, Harry's godfather - blurted out. "That's…" he shook his head. "We never did anything like that!"

"This is quite the tale, Mrs Granger, Harry," the Headmaster smiled at them. "I would award both of you points for quick thinking and persistence as well as bravery if we were at Hogwarts. Although I think you are correct - this is not a tale Rubeus would like to hear."

"Albus!" Mrs Potter snapped. "This isn't some school… adventure! They almost died! Multiple times!"

"But we didn't!" Harry protested.

"And it wasn't as if we had a choice," Hermione pointed out. "The wyvern was hunting us - we were at risk whenever we left our shelter. Or the cave."

"It attacked us first, too," Harry interrupted her. "What should we have done? Hide until we starved?"

This entirely logical argument didn't seem to impress his parents, Hermione noted.

"How long did it take you to construct your trap?" Mrs Potter asked. "Time you spent out of your 'shelter'. And how long did it take you to gather food?"

Hermione scowled and spoke up before Harry could say anything. "That's an unfair comparison. We might have been able to hide and live off summoned coconuts, but Malnutrition would've become an issue very, very quickly."

"And being effectively locked up in a small room isn't good long-term, either. You told us that," Harry added, frowning at his parents.

"I was talking about Azkaban!" Mrs Potter retorted. "Not about hiding from a man-eating magical beast the size of a dragon!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Without taking sides, I have to point out that the plan was sensible and took the dangers into account."

"They used Harry as bait!" Mr Potter snapped. "If the Summoning Charm had been a little slower…" He shook his head, and his wife paled.

"We had it under control. And I knew Hermione could summon me quickly enough," Harry told them. "Just like at the pond. We weren't reckless!"

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yes. We had a plan and followed it, and it worked as planned."

"After your first plan didn't work," Mr Potter said.

"I'd say you were reckless, but it worked out well," Mr Black said. The Potters glared at him, and he cringed a little. "Still, I hope you've learnt your lesson."

Harry nodded. "Oh, yes. Next time we encounter a wyvern or something similar, things will go differently."

"Yes." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I've already made a list of spells we need to learn that will be most helpful in the same situation." She wouldn't be caught unaware and unprepared again. Never again.

The Headmaster seemed pleased at hearing that. "Feel free to ask me for advice, Miss Granger, Harry. I do have some experience in the field, so to speak."

"Thank you, Headmaster!" Hermione replied, beaming at him.

Unfortunately, the rest of the group didn't seem to be happy about the situation.

"Albus! That's not the lesson they should've learnt!" Mrs Potter protested again.

"Oh? I would think learning new spells to be prepared for any eventuality was the hallmark of a good wizard or witch." Dumbledore inclined his head as he turned to face the Potters. "Far too many of my students seem to forget how to use their wands for anything but the most basic charms and a few spells they need at work as soon as they leave Hogwarts."

"That's not the point," Mr Potter retorted. "But they shouldn't be trying to kill the next wyvern or dragon they meet."

"Of course not!" Harry blurted out. "Only if it attacks us! Or attempts to."

"And if we can't run away and get help," Hermione added. "Or if others are in danger, of course." She glanced at Céline.

Once more, only the Headmaster seemed to like their plans.

"Harry! You're not Aurors! You're not even Hit-Wizards! You're children - students! You shouldn't fight any dangerous creatures!" Mr Potter all but yelled.

"Tell that to Hagrid when he makes his lesson plans," Harry snapped back.

"And whether or not we should isn't the question," Hermione cut in. "The question is what we do when things go wrong. We can't count on others being there to save us."

"Indeed, Miss Granger. Unfortunately, despite our best efforts, accidents and incidents do happen, and the authorities, be they teachers or Aurors, cannot be everywhere at once."

The Headmaster's smile turned a little sad, but the Potters looked as if Hermione had hexed them, she realised. Oh. They probably felt guilty for not finding them sooner.

"Yes." Harry nodded sharply as he turned to Mr Black. "And I've heard enough about the war from Sirius to know that you didn't leave things to the Aurors and Hit-Wizards either!"

"That was different!" his mother retorted.

"And we were out of school!" Mr Potter added.

"Albus didn't let anyone join the Order unless they were adults," Mr Black added. "Fortunately, he didn't require us to act our age all the time."

No one laughed at the joke, though. And Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from telling the Potters that she'd be an adult in a bit over two months. That wouldn't help her argument at all.

The Potters exchanged a glance, then Mrs Potter said. "Look, Harry… we just want you to be safe. This should never have happened!" She frowned. "It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gone into Knockturn Alley."

"Hey! I went in to protect Hermione."

"I was only in the part right next to Diagon Alley!" Hermione retorted, glaring at Harry. Then she frowned at his father. "If that's so dangerous, then the DMLE should've shut down the alley long ago!"

Mr Potter gaped at her even as Harry chuckled. "That's… That's not the point!"

"She got you there, James," Mr Black muttered.

"While discussing the policies of the Ministry is both necessary and sometimes entertaining, I do believe that this is a subject for another occasion," the Headmaster cut in. "Instead of assigning blame, might we hear the rest of your adventures while we wait for our allies to finish their business in the village?"

Said business was looking like their 'allies' were looting everything that wasn't protected by a Sticking Charm, as far as Hermione could tell. But the Headmaster had a point.

So she nodded. "Yes. After we dealt with the wyvern, we decided to explore the island, see if there was a way to call for help or escape it. So we climbed the central hill first, and…"

*****​