Chapter 1

"Lumos."

The light illuminated nothing more than the waterlogged piece of driftwood that Harry clung to. It was no more than a few planks, nailed together at the edges, but it did its job. Around him spread only the endless black depths of the sea – not even the sky could be seen in the hours after dusk. All was quiet, save for Harry's own breaths as he tried to calm his shaking hand.

It was cold. It had been so long since he rested.

Another night. Another night and perhaps the day will bring him in sight of land.

A swell threatened his overturn him and his bit of wood and Harry yelled as it washed over his head. The taste of brine filled all his senses and he spluttered to get the water out of his mouth, desperately holding onto his wand.

The fact that this wasn't a dream had been dashed almost as soon as he arrived, but Harry couldn't imagine any other explanation for his current predicament. Illusion, perhaps? But no one had been there to cruse him. He should have been safe with the Dursleys.

Harry shook his head. None of that was important now. There was nothing he could do in this water, no spell he knew to bring him back to where he was supposed to be. Ron. Hermione. They wouldn't even know he was gone. He'd hoped that Dumbledore's wards on Privet Drive would have sent them but after an entire day and nothing… Harry didn't know what to do.

Being stranded in the middle of the ocean was terrifying enough in the day, but with the setting of the sun the water took on a different tone entirely. Harry couldn't even see his legs move underneath him, trying to keep him afloat.

They were almost entirely numb and the water was growing colder.

Harry bit down on his wand and began to kick. Land. He needed land. He needed rest and he needed help. He couldn't think of anything else – not of how this couldn't be the Great Lake, not of how his last day of kicking showed him no signs of having even moved.

Ahead came a light.

Harry blinked and reached for his wand.

"Nox."

It stayed.

Was this it? Had they finally come for him? Well, better late than never. All he felt was the relief that his nightmare would end. Everything would be alright. This would be just another misbegotten adventure.

"Hey! Over here," he shouted. "I'm over here."

Did they hear? Harry lit the tip of his wand again and waved it over his head. They must have seen that. Were they on brooms? Harry didn't think he could survive the trip after the last day but at least they were here.

Then the light drew closer and Harry's waving slowed down. The light grew bigger until it split and Harry could see that in fact there were multiple lights, all set a distance over the water. Then, over the waves came a creaking. The sound of wood grinding on wood and decades of wear and tear. A shiver ran down Harry's spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Huge, tattered sails rose from the mast and wooden spikes jutted out from the front like teeth. The lights were lanterns nailed to masts and rolling free on deck. There was no one on board. The ship loomed in the distance, a hulking thing that seemed cobbled together out of driftwood and barnacle.

Harry, jaw open, cranked his head up as it approach. This was no rescue expedition. He didn't know what this was, but Harry was sure that no force of good would arrive in such an evil vessel. Then it was larger than life, ploughing through the water with the speed of the Hogwarts express, heading straight for him.

Cursing, Harry frantically shoved sloshed away from the helm but the ship was too quick. The waves that rose before the ship caught up to Harry and overturned him before he could draw a final breath.

He tumbled under, caught in the force of the eddies. Air caught at his throat and Harry fought down the urge to breathe. Wand still lit and secure in his hand, Harry sought for surface.

Panicked and with his clothing weighing on him more than ever, Harry couldn't right himself. All was dark. All was cold. His left leg spasmed and pain shot up his calf. Harry gasped and what air he had escaped through the water.

His lungs burned. The bubbles flowed. Up. He knew the way, but his legs failed him. A last desperate attempt to claw himself up with his arms failed. He was too weak. The fingers around his wand loosened and darkness encroached from beyond the radius of his lumos.

No. This couldn't be the end. He couldn't die like this. He couldn't die.

The foul stench of rotting fish and bile that Harry woke up to nearly sent him under once more, but the nausea and urge to vomit was stronger still.

He rolled over to his side and heaved. Nothing came out the first time but then the water rose up and his throat was stung with acid as his stomach cleared itself of the ocean. There wasn't time for anything but the gargantuan effort of throwing up. His chest hurt, his stomach hurt, his eyes stung from the water and Harry couldn't wrap his head around surviving.

Arms shaking from holding himself up and breathing hard after almost drowning, Harry only then heard the laughter coming from all around him. Laughter and a rhythmic thud.

Thud.

Thud.

A wooden peg leg crashed down an inch from Harry's nose. A dollop of slime fell down his neck and Harry reached up to wipe at it. He looked up and froze.

It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. Illuminated by the light of the lanterns against a backdrop of night, a giant beard of tentacles hung curling and writhing over a salt entrusted chest. One hand clawed like a crab and the other was covered with translucent, slime ridden skin. The man – the creature of a man - was like a transfiguration gone horribly wrong.

He – and it was obvious a he, despite the disfiguration – laughed. Harry sucked in a breath and pulled in his limbs but the creature just leaned closer. Harry grimaced and turned his head sideways to avoid the sickening breath that came from the lipless mouth.

"What is a little worm like yourself doing so far from land?"

Harry shook his head, unable to answer. His whole body shook – whether from exhaustion or fear he couldn't tell, and the creature in front of him laughed again.

A smattering of other voices, clicks and hisses came from the rest of the crew, similarly distorted from men into gnarly figures, part fish, part crustacean.

"Get him up. Let me take a closer look at the worm."

There wasn't enough time to react before two of the disfigured crew hooked their arms beneath his and pulled him to his feet. One was entirely covered with a hard exoskeleton, hinged in three places along the forearm, and the other was almost human if not for the living barnacles attached to the skin.

Harry recoiled at the sight but he was too weak to do much more than jerk in their arms. His legs couldn't even hold himself up, and he scrambled for a firm footing. The world rocked, and another wave of nausea made his vision swim.

One tentacle reached out to trace the edge of Harry's jaw and Harry could feel the clammy skin on his. He held in a whimper. What were they? People or some kind of magical creature? What did they want with him?

"You afraid of death, boy? Of the great unending rift, of the abyss at the end of light? In your measly years upon the earth have you know any greater fear than the death of your soul, boy?"

The crew was silent. Their captain waited.

Harry ducked his head, miming thought. His wand. Where was his wand? He sought the deck but couldn't see anything in the flickering light and the mass of feet and tail and seaweed.

Panic rose thick and hard in his throat. Wandless, weak and alone in the middle of the sea, Harry was painfully aware of his own helplessness. He flicked his eyes back up into an uncompromising stare and couldn't hide his fear.

"Be ye afraid, boy? Would you have me cut your throat and leave you to the mercy of the sea? Thrown back overboard like we found you? Or would you serve under me? I can grant you life, prolong your fate. Provide an… escape."

Harry breathed, opened his mouth, and gasped, "Who are you?"

The creature straightened and spread his arms – both clawed and human – to his crew and his ship.

"You haven't roamed the seas if you never heard of I," it said. "I be Davy Jones, Lord of the Sea, Captain of the Flying Dutchman and your rescuer. Join me, or die."