XVII

It was late in the afternoon, and the two living Black sisters found themselves at the edge of a park in Little Whinging. It was packed with people. Not surprising, since it was a sunny day. The sisters crossed the park, and entered a street called Magnolia Crescent. They passed a few houses, and found an alleyway that would take them to Wisteria Walk, and from there, they would head to Privet Drive.

The sisters entered the deserted alley, but stopped short when a tabby cat meowed at them. The cat walked towards them, sat down on its hunches and gave them a look, before morphing into Minerva McGonagall.

"Good afternoon," she said stiffly, in way of greeting.

"Good afternoon, yourself, Minerva," Narcissa replied. "Might I ask what you're doing here?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "I should think it rather obvious, Narcissa. I intend to accompany you to visit Petunia. I fail to see why we must, however."

Andie frowned at that. "In the event that Harry does not find his way home, Petunia should know of her nephew's passing. But why are you here? I believe we all agreed that it would be best if us sisters went alone. You and Hermione both told us you couldn't trust yourselves to maintain your composure in that house."

Minerva nodded. "Yes, we did, but I cannot stay behind. I was there that night when Albus gave our Harry over to them. I sentenced him to that place and it's only right that I learned something of what it was like, first hand."

"I'm certain Harry has already forgiven you for that, Minerva," Andie said.

"He has, but that doesn't mean I've forgiven myself. While Harry may be a very forgiving person, too forgiving, in fact, I am not. I carry grudges, Andromeda, and right now, I am carrying a rather large one against myself."

She turned around, and headed in the direction of Wisteria Walk, and Narcissa, and Andromeda had to hasten their steps quite a bit to catch up with her. They eventually fell in line with the older woman, but after a while, Narcissa put a hand on Minerva's shoulder.

"Slow down, Minerva. It's too hot to move so quickly. It's fine, we have time."

"I suppose you're right," Minerva conceded, and slowed down.

As the women walked along the street, they eyed their surroundings critically, and the more they saw of Little Whinging, the more they disliked it. All the houses were the same. The same hedges, the same cars, even the front doors were painted in the same colour.

"Harry once called this place sterile and soulless," Andie began. "I didn't really understand what he meant at the time, but I can see it now."

Minerva agreed. "Yes. This place is indeed horrible." The Headmistress looked around, and noted the stares of almost everyone they passed, and whoever saw them over their hedges. "Did he mention nosy neighbours to either of you, by any chance?"

"Yes, but I can't really blame them for staring, this time," Andie said in a low voice. "We're not exactly dressed according to the latest trends, you know."

Narcissa almost snorted at the truth of her sister's observation. By wizarding tradition, all three of them were wearing black, late Victorian era mourning gowns. The hem of the skirts reached to about two inches above the ground, and the bodices were buttoned up in front, and had a high collar, that was held together by a piece of onyx jewellery.

While all three women were absolutely certain Harry and the others would return to them, they were in a kind of mourning, as their loved ones were, technically, dead and unreachable. It was only fitting to dress accordingly. Well that, and they were all pretty certain their appearance would have Petunia's neighbours gossipping.

They finally found number four Privet Drive, and to no one's surprise, it was just as boring and soulless as the rest of Little Whinging. Andie noted the car wasn't there, which led her to hope Harry's uncle might not be around at the moment. It would make things quite a bit easier. The trio walked up to the house, and Minerva rang the bell.

Petunia was working in her back garden, when she heard the doorbell ring. She leaned back from the rosebush she was working on, and wiped her forehead. It sure was a warm day. She turned to her son, who was lounging in a sun chair, reading his chemistry book. Dudley was quite serious about his education, these days.

The one good thing to come from her nephew's disappearance. Dudley had told her Harry vanishing had given him an even broader perspective than his cousin saving his life, and that he was done dithering about.

"Dyddums, could you get the door, please?"

"Mum! How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Dudley moaned as he got out of the chair.

"I'm your mother, dear. I'm allowed."

"I suppose," came the surly reply. Dudley entered the house, made his way over to the door, and opened it.

"Yes? Can I-"

Dudley could only stare. In front of him stood three of the prettiest women he had ever seen, outside of the films. No, pretty wasn't strong enough to describe these beautiful creatures. He then noticed how they were dressed, and concluded they had to be a part of that world.

He resisted an urge to feel his behind, just to make certain the pig's tail wasn't there any more. Then, as he registered their dresses properly, he was reminded of a film he'd seen once, where a woman had worn a dress just like that, and why. He was filled with dread.

The oldest of the three cleared her throat. "Is your mother home, Mr. Dursley?"

Dudley nodded. "Mum!"

A few awkward moments passed, until Petunia arrived at the door. She took one glance at the three women, and seemed to lose all the strength in her feet, and almost sank to the floor. Reacting quickly, Dudley put an arm around his mother's waist, and picked her up.

"I suppose you should come inside, then," Dudley said, but groaned loudly when he saw his father's car turn into the driveway. "Bloody brilliant," he muttered. "Of all the days to come home early... This is going to go super well."

Minerva whispered a notice-me-not spell, and then, the three witches turned, and watched Vernon Dursley squeeze out of his car, with some difficulty. They barely managed suppress a snicker; Harry's description of his uncle as a human-walrus hybrid seemed awfully accurate.

"What the devil's going on here?" The wheezing man growled as he waddled over the front lawn. "I've repeatedly told you freaks to stay away from us!"

Then he saw his wife, passed out in his son's arms. His face went even redder, if that was possible, and he seemed ready to charge them.

"What have you done to her, you demons!?"

"Dad! Shut up!" Dudley hissed.

The fat man wasn't listening, however. He stalked threateningly toward the three women, but Minerva met him half-way, her wand out, her lips thin as a sheet.

"Yer fixin' to 'ave a go at me, laddie?" she growled at him, in her thick, Scottish brogue, which was flowing freely now. "I dare ye! Do somethin'. Give me a reason, ye bloody blaigeard!"

By that time, Vernon had become so bloated, he looked like he was about to explode. "Now, see here! I will not have some little cun-"

Minerva's wand lit up. "I was a grown woman when ye were spat out of yer máthair's mangled bhánag, ye lavvy-heided wankstein!"

Minerva's wand had begun sparking, and Vernon's face lost all of its colour. "Now, shut yer geggie, and get in the house!"

In a rare showing of wits, Vernon did as he was told, and waddled into the house as quickly as he could, leaving the Headmistress behind, panting as she tried to regain her composure.

The Black sisters stood by, rooted on the doorstep, staring at their companion. After that display, one thing was for certain; neither of them would do anything to piss Minnie off. Ever.

"Are you alright, Minerva?" Andie, eventually dared ask.

"Aye, Andromeda. I've been wanting to give that man a piece of my mind for many years. Let's go in, then, and get this over with. I need a sip of Old Ogden's"

The three women filed into the house. They headed for the living room, where they assumed the family to have gathered, only to stop by the door. There, directly opposite, was the door to the Cupboard.

Narcissa walked over, and put a hand on the knob, but before she opened it, she gave her sister a glance. Andie grabbed a hold of Minerva's arm, and saw the older witch mustering her Occlumency, but it was a near thing.

Narcissa swung the door open, ready for some kind of horror show, but all she could see in there was that fuse box thing, brooms and mops. She pulled the string that lit the light bulb, but couldn't see anything in there that indicated Harry had been there.

Cissy, look," Andie said, and pointed at the door. Narcissa eyed her sister, then turned around, and she saw it. There, under the grate on the door, were two words written in green crayon. 'Harry's Room'. By the shape of the letters, he couldn't have been more than six years old when he'd written them. Well, they were not going to have a confrontation about the Dursley's treatment of Harry. This time. There would be reckoning, however.

Once all three women had forced up their mental shields, they made their way into the living room, and found the Dursleys in there, in a bit of a shock. Petunia lay on the sofa, her son fanning her with an old newspaper, while Vernon sat in his chair, staring at nothing.

Minerva waved her wand, and conjured another sofa, into which she and the others sat. Dudley helped his mother sit up, and then sat beside her, and held her hand.

"I suppose introductions are in order," Narcissa began. "My name is Narcissa Black, this is my sister, Andromeda, and the current Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall."

Petunia didn't even acknowledge the words, and instead, stared at the picture of her sister, her husband, and nephew.

"When?" she asked simply, after a moment.

Narcissa took a deep breath. "Three days ago, Mrs. Dursley. Harry, along with our sister Bellatrix, Andromeda's daughter Nymphadora, and our friend, Fleur Delacour were killed in an explosion when they were studying an ancient tomb in Egypt."

Petunia let out a heavy sob, and a tear ran down her cheek. She had thought she had prepared herself for the news, but it hit her like a lorry. That was it, then. Now, there was nothing left of Lily Evans on this earth.

"What the devil was the boy doing down there?" Vernon grumbled. "Raiding tombs eh? Treasure hunting. I always knew the freak would never amount to anything," he finished with a sneer.

Before anyone could do anything, Dudley rolled up the newspaper, and smacked his father on the head with it, using some force.

"Shut up, dad," he said, and turned to Narcissa. "It's a valid question, though. Why was Harry over there?"

The three witches shared a look, before Minerva cleared her throat, gave Walrus Vernon a killer look, and took the stage. "They were looking for something important. You may not know this, but there's a civil war raging, our side of the curtain. I'm sure you remember Voldemort, don't you, Petunia?"

Petunia nodded her accord. "Yes, of course. He murdered my sister. Not someone I'm likely to forget. He returned some time ago, didn't he? After Harry's fourth year at your school?"

"Yes, he did. In fact, he used Harry's blood in the ritual that gave him a body, once more," Minerva informed them. "We have been fighting the war ever since. With Harry at the centre of it all."

"But he was just a boy," Petunia whispered, horrified.

"Voldemort doesn't care, Petunia. Harry was a threat to his plans, and he had to be removed. As fate would have it, Harry often managed to derail those plans," Narcissa said with pride. "And never as much, as after he disappeared from his room, two years ago."Dozens upon dozens of people owe their lives to Harry's efforts. The three of us included."

Narcissa shared a fond smile with the other two women, a smile that had Petunia tilting her head, with narrowed eyes. Surely not...

"Just what were you three to my nephew?" she asked, almost dreading the answer.

Narcissa smiled even wider. "We were his lovers, Mrs. Dursley. As was our sister, who perished with him."

A stunned silence followed those words. While Petunia, and Vernon looked positively scandalized, Dudley simply couldn't believe that scrawny little Potter had bagged birds like these. And one more, who was probably just as beautiful.

"Well done, Harry," Dudley muttered, then blushed heavily when the three women all turned to look at him with a raised brow.

"Well, we have to get going soon, but there's something we'd like to leave with you, Petunia, if you'll have it. Something to remember Harry by," Andie said, and revealed a small, clay saucer.

The edges were carved with intricate runes, and there was a wispy, smoke like substance floating in it. Andie tapped a few of the runes with her wand, put it on the table, and slid it to Petunia.

"This is a memory saucer, Petunia, large enough to hold a part of a single memory of some length. I've put one in there, but before you view it, I'd like to bind it to your blood, so that only you, and your son can activate it. We wouldn't want any Muggles getting their hands on it. If you're willing, prick your finger, and let a drop of your blood fall onto the glowing rune."

Without hesitation, Petunia grabbed a needle from her sewing kit she had on the coffee table, to use when her husband, and son were watching something on the tv, she didn't have any interest in, which was almost always. She did as Andromeda had instructed, and there was a tiny flash.

Andie nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to pick it up, and press these four runes in sequence. When you're done, please put the saucer on the floor, in front of the TV."

Once Petunia had done that, an image was projected from the surface of the saucer. It was crystal clear, and Petunia almost felt as if she was in the room she was looking at, and she quickly realized they were looking at things from Ms. Black's perspective.

Her nephew was the main focus of the silent memory, but Petunia could scarcely believe her eyes. Harry was obviously very tall, and quite strongly built. A far cry from the skinny child that had liver here. She noticed the changes to his ears, and eyes, and she found them rather disturbing.

"Buggering hell!" Dudley exclaimed. "That's Harry? What happened to him?"

"I am afraid I cannot tell you that," Andie told him. "Watch the memory."

Harry was holding a large sword in his hands, turning it this way and that, examining its edges. He looked like he knew exactly what he was doing. Finally, he sheathed it, and sat down by the fire burning in the hearth of the room.

He turned his head, and said something to a woman who had short, spiky hair, and the pair of them laughed heartily, and were obviously bantering back and forth. Ms. Black clearly shook her head at their antics, and let her eyes roam the room, and Dudley couldn't help but notice the apparent feminine energy in that place. The room was full of drop dead gorgeous chicks, and his cousin was the only bloke!

Petunia felt awful. She had recovered from the shock of learning her nephew had been involved with at least four women, and they were all clearly alright with it! And more than that, she had this sinking feeling they were all older than she was, even if they didn't look it. It was ghastly!

That wasn't what made her feel so horrible, however. It was seeing Harry so... Happy. Content. She felt a deep shame. Then, she saw who she assumed was the third Black sister – Bellatrix, approach her nephew, and his face lit up in brilliant smile, and it hit Petunia straight in the heart, as she'd never seen it before. The woman sat on his lap, and rested her head on his shoulder. Then the memory ended, and the saucer stopped glowing.

"That was the last time we saw Harry alive," Narcissa said in tight voice. "If you prefer, we can extract a memory of your own, Mrs. Dursley, and put it in there, in place of this one."

Petunia thought about it, but shook her head. "No, this one's fine. Harry was never happy here, and that's my fault. I've never seen him smile like that, and I'd like to remember him this way. Now, if you'd please leave. I think I need to go lie down."

The three witches walked slowly away from the house, in silence. When they were almost out of Privet Drive, Andie stopped to look back, a look of doubt clouding her features.

"What we did just now was horrible. Not telling them we think Harry will return. It was cruel."

"They deserve this, and more," Minerva growled. "Sometimes, it's an eye for an eye."

Narcissa smiled evilly at her sister. "I am a Black, as are you, sister dear, and we Blacks are cruel creatures by nature. I'd also very much like to be there when Harry goes to confront his aunt, when he's returned. I can just about imagine the look on her face when she opens the door."

"Aye," Minerva readily agreed, then suddenly turned to the left, and strode onward with a purpose.

"Where are you going, Minerva?" Narcissa asked.

"Arabella lives just around the corner, and her Floo is connected to my office. I'm going up to my quarters, and have myself a finger, or two of Old Ogden's. You're welcome to join me, if you wish."

The sisters looked at each other, then set off after their friend. A bit of whiskey sounded just fine, right about then.

The head of his wooden training axe resting on the boy's chest, Kurgan the orc stared down at Harry, who lay panting on the ground.

"Sloppy!" The orc grumbled, and pulled Harry to his feet. "You need to focus! Don't be so easily distracted. I saw you stealing glances at your friend with the rapier."

"Well, I am supposed to be training her, Kurgan," Harry said, and wiped his brow.

"Mistress Sigrun is more than capable of showing her what to do. Besides, it looks to me like both your companions are doing just fine. If you don't apply yourself, they'll leave you behind soon," the orc concluded.

Harry let his gaze wander over to both Fleur and Nym, and he could only agree with the large orc. Both women had taken to their weapons training like ducks to water, and had progressed immensely over the two days since they'd begun training. They were certainly doing much better than he had, back when Gryffindor had been training him.

Fleur had moved considerably further away from the target, and was getting used to having to angle up her bow, in order to hit her target, and Sigrun was exceedingly pleased with her prodigious improvement.

Nym, meanwhile, was also giving it her all, and was making impressive progress, according to Sigrun, who was indeed a very skillfull teacher. Patient, and knowledgeable.

Harry let his eyes linger a bit on the mistress of the house. He had to admit, that if someone ever wanted to make a Viking film, Sigrun would have to be their first casting choice. Tall, blonde hair in a long braid, and obviously quite strongly built.

"I'll do fine against any monster," he said and turned his attention back to the orc. "What I lack is experience against other people who use martial weapons, Kurgan. Where I'm from, people don't fight with swords, bows and arrows. We use magic."

"You're a mage?" Kurgan asked, surprised.

"We all are, and powerful," Harry responded. "For some reason, only Bella can actually harness the energies required to wield magic over here, though."

The orc shrugged, and charged Harry without warning, swinging his weapon in a horizontal arch. Harry had to reach quickly, in order to avoid being knocked unconscious. He ducked, and rolled forward, thrusting his own wooden weapon, aiming for his opponent's abdomen.

Kurgan was prepared for it, however, and sent his foot Harry's way, who let go of his training sword, and grabbed the orc's ankle.

Using his prodigious speed and strength, Harry rose to his feet, and swung Kurgan in a half circle, and launched the large orc into a stack of hay, which promptly collapsed. The farm went completely quiet, and anyone in reach, stood and stared either at Harry, or the ruined haystack.

"Oi, Wonderboy!" Nym shouted at him, after a moment. "Try not to kill Kurgan, eh?"

The mighty orc scrambled out of the stack, grumbling and cursing. He rose to his feet, and eyed Harry balefully, before he leaned his head back, and let out a roaring burst of laughter. He made his way over to Harry, and clasped him on the shoulder.

"Quite a feat, whelp. Your Bellatrix told me you were strong, and she wasn't wrong."

Harry shrugged. "I have my moments."

At that moment, there came a shout from the front of the house, and the gathered people saw a pair of wagons approaching, and a small force of men. Harry let go of his training sword, and went to get his Silverite one, and buckled it on.

Nym, Fleur and Bella came over to Harry, armed with their weapons. They flanked him and the four of them made their way over to the front of the house, with Sigrun and Kurgan. Ivar, Kalas, and Asha joined them on the way.

"Who goes there?" someone called.

Before the newcomers could answer, Ivar greeted the driver, of the closer wagon, who was a dwarf, with a wave, and a friendly smile. "Markan! Good to see you, you cranky old dwarf!"

"No respect from the young'uns. Never changes," the dwarf grumbled, and jumped down from the wagon.

Ivar merely laughed, and offered his hand for the dwarf to shake. "I see your brother isn't taking any chances, sending you here."

The dwarf harummphed, and eyed Harry and the others carefully. "Don't fool yourself into thinking that miser actually cares about you lot. He's merely protecting his investment. Losing people is more expensive than losing a few tons of rock, after all."

Ivar shook his head, looking mildly offended. "Fargas won't ever change, that's for sure."

"Well, you should know that by now," the dwarf groused. "He was exactly the same, when we three would quest together, back in the day."

Markan turned to Harry. "So, I hear we have you to thank for protecting our workers?"

Harry shook his head. "Not me. It was Fleur who did most of it. I just killed some guy called Boris."

Markan tilted his head to Fleur, who was playing with the string of her bow.

"That wisp of a girl?" the dwarf growled. "I find that hard to believe!"

"Oi, stumpy!" Nym growled, and her hair turned a deep red. She marched up to the dwarf, and towered over him, which wasn't that hard, seeing as he was well under five feet. "Don't go disrespecting my friend, ya twit!"

Fleur walked up to Nym, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I can fight my own battles, mon précieux ami."

Nym blushed, and her hair flashed between red and blue. "I know that, babe. But he can't just..."

Fleur smiled. "Let me handle that souche."

The dwarf puffed up, after hearing the exchange between the girls. "So now you're going to handle me, are you? Go on, then, give it a go," he said mockingly, and grabbed a heavy looking hammer from the wagon.

Fleur turned a cold gaze upon the dwarf and only meant to give him a talking to, but to the dwarf's horror, he noticed the girl's eyes slowly turn black. Unfortunately, none of Fleur's companions noticed it, at first.

Ivar wasn't too happy with how things were going, and gave Harry a look, who merely shrugged. "The idiot has it coming, Ivar."

"You misunderstand, Harry," Ivar said, and leaned in close. "It's not Markan I'm worried about," he hissed. "It's Kurgan. He's an orc. They're not known for their..." Ivar then lost his train of thought, and almost robotically turned around to stare at Fleur.

Harry quickly scanned the area, and found every male was quickly becoming entranced. The effect on Kurgan was different, however. He pulled the axe on his back free from its harness, and spittle was dripping from his large tusks, and a sheen of sweat was covering his green skin.

Harry darted to Fleur, and Sigrun ran toward the orc, to stand in front of him. The orc stopped, but didn't seem to recognize his employer, and readied his weapon.

"Fleur!" Harry shouted, grabbed Fleur, and turned her to him. She smiled at him.

"Ah. My love," she sighed, and latched onto his lips with her own.

Once the kiss ended, they pulled apart, and Fleur looked a little ashamed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what it is, but I'm finding it much more difficult to hold Her back in this place."

Harry touched his forehead to hers, and stroked her hair. "Don't worry, Fleur. We're here for you. You know that, right?"

"Of course, Harry," she said in a grateful voice.

"So, that's what happened in the camp," Asha said, and looked at Fleur with something akin to respect. "That's an interesting ability."

Fleur ignored her, and turned to the dwarf, who was still holding his hammer tightly. "I apologize, Mr. Markan. I will endeavour to prevent that from happening again."

"Well, I may have been wrong, girl," the dwarf said with a serious face.

Markan put his weapon away, and approached Sigrun, who held Kurgan's axe in her hands. The orc was striding away on his long legs, toward the fields to join up with Magnus and the other farm hands.

"Sigrun, I'd like to apologize for this little episode. Won't happen again."

The mistress was unimpressed. "Still as hot tempered as always, you idiot. How are you still living?"

"Sigrun, you wound me!"

"Nothing you didn't deserve, you pig."

They stared at each other for a moment, before they both chuckled, and clasped arms.

"It's been too long, old friend," Markan said, and received a nod from Sigrun.

"That it has. Now, I imagine you'll want to leave right away?"

"Aye, the carrier's going to be arriving any day now. Fargas will want to get his hands on the cargo as soon as possible."

An hour, or so later, the group set out, and everyone was put onto the wagons. It was a tight fit, but they made do. Markan had informed everyone that they wouldn't be stopping, that extra horses had been brought along, so that they could rest them as needed.

Harry, along with his friends had been given place on the wagon carrying the rocks. It wasn't the softest of rides, but at least, they weren't walking.

"Harry?" Bella asked after a while.

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do, if we can't find the way home?"

Harry felt their eyes on him, gleaming with intensity. Even Hedwig gave a low hoot, indicating her concern. Meanwhile, Bella and the others saw Harry's face harden and his eyes showed an iron will.

"I'm going to find the way, Bella."

Bella held back a wince. "Harry, what if-"

"We went through a Veil to get here," Harry interrupted her. "There will be another one here, somewhere, that will take us back. I'm going to find it. Even if I have to spend my whole life looking for it, I will return to them."

Bella and the others watched Harry for a moment, before they all smiled at him. Of course he was going back home. And, knowing Harry's stubborn streak, he just might find the way.

"So we'll begin at Crossroad Keep," Fleur said, and leaned against Harry, to take a little nap.

The journey to West Harbour went by without incident, and a day and a half after they set out from Magnus' farm, they came upon the large town. It was situated in a narrow valley, and reached all the way across, into the hills on each side, making it impossible to see anything beyond it. A high wall, made of thick logs closed off the town, and the only way into it, was through a guarded gate.

"Morning, Gnaeus," one of two guards said in a gravelly voice. "Where'd you dig up this lot?"

Markan gave the pair of them the stink eye, and threw them a small pouch with coins in it. "There were just the workers along in the caravan, Stefan."

"Sure, alright," the guard said, after he had carefully counted the gold. "Go right on through."

The wagons eased into motion, again, leaving the gate behind. Harry looked around, and found West Harbour reminded him a lot of Hogsmeade, only on a larger scale. The houses were the same, and the streets were cobbled the same way. There were a lot of people moving about their business, humans, dwarves, and orcs. No elves, as far as Harry could tell.

The caravan stopped outside of a house Harry assumed was a hospital. One of Markan's men jumped off, and went inside. He came out again a moment later, followed by a few men and women, who proceeded with carrying Ivar's men inside.

"Well, everyone, I guess this is good bye, then," Ivar said, and offered Harry and the others his hand.

"If I remember correctly," he continued, after taking everyone's hand, "the Phoenix should be in port at the moment, and I know the ship's route takes it by Crossroad Keep. I happen to know Eivör, the captain. If she gives you any fuss, tell her Ivar sent you. She owes me a couple of favours. Take care of yourselves, and may you find the way home, Harry."

Harry smiled at the man. "Thank you, Ivar," he said, and watched the man go into the hospital to be with his men.

"Well, the wharf is off that way," Markan said, and pointed to a street that ran to the left. "I'm fairly certain your ship will be out of the harbour by now, mooring. She came in some time before I left to get you, so she'll be done with her business soon, if she isn't already. Eivör has a small office by the pier. You can't miss it."

And with that, he urged the horses onward, and the wagon drove away. Harry and the others started making their way toward the waterfront, and soon found themselves at the pier. Harry stopped, and drew in a deep breath through his nose.

He loved the smell of the sea. There was something about it, but he couldn't for the life of him understand what it was. Harry quickly scanned the area, and noted the valley became a small fjord, that curved slightly to the west. That curve, along with the high mountains created an excellent natural harbour.

"I hope captain Eivör has some space left, for us, Harry. The ship that was supposed to take us to the Keep isn't here any more," Kalas said, his voice laced with concern.

The group walked along the pier, and on their right hand side were low standing buildings, that in all honesty were little more than shacks, or huts. Harry had to admit, what he was seeing wasn't exactly filling him with confidence, and he unconsciously moved closer to Asha, his hand on his sword.

Outside every one of the ramshackle buildings stood groups of dirty men, who mostly wore rags, although there was the occasional man who had on a long coat, and a hat. Most of them were armed with cutlasses, sabres or scimitars. A few had an axe slung over their shoulder. Eventually, they spotted a shack that was better off than the rest of them, but only just, and the sign above the open door pictured a phoenix.

Harry approached the shack, and was intercepted by a large, dark man with a topknot, and a goatee. He wore baggy pants, a vest, and nothing more. Harry had to fight himself not to stare, because the man looked almost exactly like what he'd always imagined Sinbad the sailor would look like. Behind him, he heard Nym whimper in an attempt to stay quiet, no doubt having the same problem he was.

"What do you lot want?" the man asked, and eyed Harry and the girls carefully, noting their outfits, and weaponry. His eyes lingered on the elves for a moment, and a scowl formed on his face.

"Is captain Eivör available?" Harry asked.

"That depends. Who's asking?"

"My name's Harry, and this is Fleur, Bella, and Tonks. The elf beside me is called Kalas, and the young girl's Asha. We seek passage to Crossroad Keep."

The man raised an eyebrow. "That so?"

"Yes," Harry grumbled, not really in the mood for any dancing. "Ivar sent us here."

The man's disposition changed immediately. "Gnaeus did, eh? How is the old dog?"

"Not bad. His men could be better, though. They were attacked by slavers, and many were injured."

"Send him in, Vignir," came a feminine voice from inside the shack.

"Aye, captain," the large main responded, and stood aside. "You, the girl, and Kalas, was it? Go inside. The rest of you, stay out here."

Harry, Kalas and Asha went inside, and were greeted with the smell of burning incense. It irritated Harry's sensitive nose, and he let out a massive sneeze almost as soon as he entered.

"I beg your pardon, boy. If I don't light those cursed things, the place reeks worse than an orc's scrotum after a week's march."

Harry waved away the... colourful apology. He blinked away the tears, and was able to focus on the woman. She appeared to be in her late forties, her black hair streaked with grey, and her face was set with shallow lines. She wore a royal blue coat, a white linen shirt, and tight, breeches she tucked into tall leather boots. And lastly,she wore a hat, and one of her grey eyes was covered with an eyepatch.

"So, you're looking for passage, boy?" She gave Harry a once over. His eyes, and Hedwig, who was perching on Harry's shoulder were of a particular interest.

"Yes. For me and my three companions, and fourteen elves."

Her eye became frosty. "The Phoenix does not carry slaves, boy."

"We are not slaves," Asha said indignantly. "Harry saved us from the slavers."

"Did he now? A real defender of the downtrodden, eh?" the woman asked mockingly.

Harry fixed her with a hard glare. "I don't know about that, but I try to do the right thing."

Eivör tapped her bottom lip a few times, deep in thought. "Hmmm. Well, Ivar wouldn't have sent you to me, if the thought you were scum. As it happens, I can take you on board, if you're willing to sleep in the hold. Some of the cargo I was supposed to take with me didn't make it, however, so it'll cost ya. I have to at least break even."

"Right. How much?" Harry asked.

"Ten gold each, all in advance," Eivör replied, without missing a beat.

Kalas sputtered at that. "That's outrageous! The ship we had chartered originally only charged four, and only half in advance."

Eivör ignored Kalas, and kept her eye on Harry's. "That's my offer. Take it, or leave it. I'll warn you, though. No other ship will carry any elves."

Harry pretended to think about it for a while, and eyed Asha for a bit, for good measure. "I'll pay two hundred and fifty. Asha shares your cabin, and we eat what you eat."

Eivör stared at Harry for a moment longer, before she slammed her palm onto her desk, and let out a bark of laughter. She stood up, and shook Harry's hand vigorously.

"Not bad, boy! Not bad at all. You've got yourself a deal. Now, let's settle the account."

Harry nodded, and reached into the Bag, and brought out his bursting coin purse, silently thanking his mentor for just how big it was, and that it had filled itself, before they landed in this strange world. The captain's eye nearly bugged out of her head when she saw all the money he was lugging along.

Harry began counting Galleons onto the table, and, but had only put a handful when Eivör stopped him suddenly. She picked up one of the coins, and examined it. "Wait, let me weigh this. Just how thick are these, anyway?"

She reached beneath the desk for a pair of scales. She put one coin onto the scale, and clicked her tongue in surprise. "Give me a hundred and eighty of your coins, and we'll call it even. I've never seen coins quite this heavy."

Harry was honestly a little surprised, and it must have shown on his face, because captain Eivör frowned at him.

"Oh, come now. I'm overcharging you as it is. I'm not about to rip you off, too. Now, let's finish this. I'd like to cast off before sundown, and it'll take a while to bring all your people on board. Oh, and here's a free tip; don't let anyone see that money sack of yours. Not even my own crew. It would be smart to have a smaller one, on hand."

Once the pair of them were done, Eivör wrote the transaction down in her log, and slammed it shut, and stormed out of the shack, the log under her arm.

"Get off your feet, you louts! We're heading out! Man the oars," she roared, and strode down the stairs and onto the pier, the men following in her wake.

"I've secured us passage," Harry said, and headed down the pier, after the captain, the others following behind him.

"How long is the journey?" Harry asked, as they marched toward the longboat.

"Two and a half, three weeks, given favourable winds. The currents are also good, this time of year."

The large group of people filed into the two large boats, that were tied to the last two cleats at the end of the pier. Captain Eivör headed one boat, while Vignir took charge of the other one, and they set off. They were quickly out of the harbour, and able to actually see the Phoenix for the first time.

Harry took a good long look at the ship. It wasn't like any ship he'd ever seen before. He had seen pictures of both Spanish Galleons, as well as ancient Greek triremes, and this ship looked almost like a hybrid of the two.

The hull was that of a galleon, however, there was no bowsprit. There was a bronze thing sticking out from the prow, similar to what you'd see on the triremes. Rather fittingly, above the ram, an elegant phoenix had been carved into the bow. It was clear where the ship got its name, at least.

At the stern, the ship rose a bit, in a slight curve, and Harry could see a few windows, and even a small balcony, facing backwards, above the large rudder.

The ship had two large masts, and four sails, that had been wrapped around the horizontal parts of the masts. Looking at the intricate network of ropes, and lines, almost gave Harry a headache. Rigging. That's what it was called, he thought. And they said television didn't teach you anything.

Once the boats had reached the ship's side, a pair of rope ladders with wooden rungs were cast over the side, and the passengers, and most of the rowers went aboard, the rest went and secured the vessels.

"Welcome aboard the Phoenix, everyone," Captain Eivör said, and grinned. "Treat her well, and she'll never do you wrong."

She then made her way to the helm. "Weigh anchor, you lazy landlubbers! Ready the sails!"

Her shouting was greeted with a chorus of 'aye, aye, captain!' and the men set about their work with a smile, happy to be out at sea, once more. Slowly, the ship began moving, the sails bulging with the wind.

"Helmsman! Take the wheel. I need to show my guests to their quarters."

The captain brought them below deck, and into the hold, where she pointed to a stack of neatly folded hammocks, and blankets. There were pegs all over the hold, to which they could fasten their bedding. The elves immediately set about making things ready, along with Harry's three companions.

Meanwhile, Harry accompanied Eivör and Asha to the captain's quarters, which were divided into two rooms; a dining room, which also served as a kind of office, and a bedroom. Harry found them quite satisfactory. While there was only one bed, it was large enough for both Asha, and Eivör.

"Are you alright with this, Asha?" Harry asked, before he headed out of the room.

The girl nodded. "Yes, it'll be fine, Harry. Now, I'm going to bed. Goodnight," and with that, she closed the door.

"A fire in that one, eh?" Eivör remarked, as she and Harry walked over to her desk.

"Yes. She's surprisingly chipper, given that her mother was murdered before her eyes, a few days ago."

The captains mouth turned into an ugly sneer. "Slavery. Disgusting practice, that's been going on for much too long. It's no wonder the elves are mobilizing for war."

"Yeah. So it seems."

Harry bade the captain good night, and made his way back to the hold, where he found that all had been made ready. He did notice that Bella and the others had not taken themselves a hammock, and instead turned a somewhat secluded area of the hold into a camp of sorts, where they had rolled out their bedrolls.

"Not comfortable with the hammocks?" Harry asked, and sat down on a bushel of... something.

"No, we're not, Harry," Fleur said with a grin. "We cannot cuddle with you, in one of those."

"Well, not that I'm complaining," Harry said with a bemused smile, "but do you really think it's appropriate?"

Bella turned a frosty glare onto her lover. "I do not give a toss what's appropriate, Harry. The captain said this was a three week journey. I am not going that long without at least sleeping in the same bed as my beloved."

"Yeah!" Nym confirmed, her hair turning pink. "Me neither."

Even Hedwig hooted affirmatively, which caused all four humans to laugh at her antics. The beautiful owl glared at them reproachfully, and flew up on top of some boxes, and went to sleep.

"Well, it's been a long day. I'm quite ready to lie down," Harry said, and began taking off his armour, which the three women did, as well.

Harry lay awake in the hold, simply enjoying the motion of the ship, and listening the the creaking of the hull. None of the girls were down there, and only a couple of the elves were sleeping. He got up from the bedroll, and put on his boots, and buckled on the sword, as well.

Harry emerged from the hold, and onto the deck, and found it was well past breakfast. He looked around the deck, and saw Eivör at the helm, and his three girls by the midship railing. Two of them looked a bit green in the face, while Nym was looking decidedly fresh.

"Seasick?" Harry asked, as he made his way over to them.

"Oui," Harry, Fleur confirmed, and took a deep breath, then half leaned over the railing.

"Please remind me never to go on a boat, again, Harry," Bella moaned, and slid down, to sit on the deck, her back to the railing.

"Oh, quit your whining, you two," Nym said, and twirled her rapier around. "You'll be fine!"

Harry looked at Nym with an amused expression, which contrasted quite well with Bella's murderous one.

"You're not feeling it?" he asked, and unsheathed his sword, and slowly engaged Nym, who met his blade with care.

"Nope!" she said with a grin. "Never been seasick, or carsick, or anything, in my life." Harry let up, and she went on the attack, just as slowly as Harry had. "Perks of being a Metamorphmagus, I suppose."

"Right," Harry said, and blocked a low thrust. "You just play with your ears."

"Yep," Nym confirmed with a smile. "Steady as a rock. You seem fine, too."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, and sidestepped yet another attack.

"Lucky bastards," Bella growled as she rose, and bent over the railing.

"Those are some pretty weapons, you have there," captain Eivör said, and approached Harry and Nym.

"They are," Harry agreed, and motioned for Nym to stop, and handed the captain his sword.

Eivör examined the sword carefully, almost reverently, in fact. "Exquisite! Who made this? If you don't mind my asking."

Harry shrugged. "No idea. My mentor gave both of these to me, when I was studying under him."

"A fine gift," Eivör said, and handed Harry the sword again.

"Could I ask you a question, captain?"

"Aye."

"Where are the cannons?"

Captain Eivör simply looked at him. "The what?"

"Cannons? Weapons."

An understanding dawned on the captain. "Ah, you mean the ballistae."

"Sure," Harry said, and gave Nym a glance. She just shrugged. She didn't know about old stuff like that.

"They're kept below decks, Harry, in special compartments. One, above my quarters, below the poop deck, and the other inside the forecastle. Come, I'll show you."

Harry, and Nym followed her to the front of the ship. Eivör opened a door that led into the forecastle, and inside, Harry saw a largish ballista, along with a large stack of wooden, steel tipped missiles. The ballista was sitting on a low platform, and looked extremely well maintained.

"See that pulley over there?" Eivör asked, and pointed to a large pulley that was attached to a sturdy boom, of the main mast. "If we're attacked, my gunners release a weight, which opens the deck above, and raises the ballista. The platform can rotate in a full circle. The same with the aft one. It offers almost complete coverage."

Harry nodded along. "Impressive. The keel has to be quite deep and heavy, then."

Eivör inclined her head in accord. "Aye. She's a bit heavier than other ships of similar size, that have a fixed weaponry, but it's worth the extra protection. The men can turn the ballistae faster than we can manoeuvre the ship."

"Right. I'd agree," Harry said, and went back to training Nym.

And so the days went by, and Harry spent them mostly training Nym, and giving Fleur whatever help he could with the bow, once the Veela had found her sea legs. He couldn't teach her too much, however, since they couldn't exactly shoot any targets.

He taught her how to restring the bow, and how to take care of both the string, and the arrows. He even showed her how to fletch her arrows. Meanwhile, Bellatrix kept poring over the book on staff wielding. It was quite good, and she was learning more and more.

"How goes it, Bella?" Harry asked one day, after about a week of sailing.

Bella looked up, and smiled at him. "Fine, Harry. I've learned many spells, and I've gotten the hang of most of the motions."

"I've been meaning to ask, how different is it for you to do magic here, compared to back home?" Harry asked, and sat down next to her.

Bella was silent for a moment, before she answered. "It feels... forced, somehow. Kind of like having a Butterbeer with a bottle and a straw, as opposed to a mug. And that's not all."

"Oh?"

"You remember I couldn't heal you with spells?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, it's the same with so many things we took for granted back home. I can't Accio things to me, it simply doesn't work. I can float them to me, however," she said, and grabbed the staff just below the crystal, and pointed it toward one of Fleur's arrows. It floated to her slowly, and she grabbed it with her left hand. She put the arrow down, and closed her eyes in concentration, and suddenly, the staff gave off an orange glow, and a small flame appeared in her left palm.

"I can either make a small flame like that, or a ball I can throw at my target. Or, I can focus my energies on an area, and crate a massive firebomb."

Bella frowned. "It's just all so different, Harry. I have to reach out and grab my magic. I must always concentrate on maintaining a hold of it, lest I drop it, and then I have to find it again."

Harry put an arm around her, and pulled her to him. "You'll get the hang of it in no time, Bella. I know you will."

Bella smiled at him, and gave him a kiss. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry meant to sit there with Bella for a while, but Hedwig gave an alarmed hoot as she cam flying in, and landed on the railing of one of the crow's nests. Harry looked up, and found his familiar staring at him. He unbuckled his sword, and gave it to Bella, before he ran up the ratlines, hands free.

Barely a moment later, he had ascended the ropes, and climbed into the nest, and Hedwig jumped onto his shoulder. "What is it, girl?"

Then Harry caught a whiff of something, and he sniffed the air more carefully. Something was burning. He quickly scanned the horizon, and spotted smoke, far to the east. He trained his eyes in the direction of the smoke, and saw some debris in the sea.

"Captain! There's a burning ship, to the east!"

Captain Eivör went into her cabin and retrieved her spyglass, and joined Harry in the crow's nest. She pulled the spyglass apart, then brought it to her eye.

"I see it! Helmsman, head due east! Prepare for possible hostile engagement!" she yelled, and the deck exploded with activity. Her gunners released the ballistae, and had them loaded amazingly fast.

The captain watched it all happen, and made a sound of approval. She was about to climb down, when she suddenly stopped, and looked Harry in the eyes. "How the hell did you see that? We would have sailed right by it."

"Well, first Hedwig caught my attention. Then I smelled the smoke, and then I saw it."

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. They could talk about it later. "You ready to fight, if we have to?"

Harry nodded gravely. "Yes. Don't worry."

Harry fallowed her down, and approached Bella and the others. "You ready, if something happens?"

"Yes," they all told him.

"Good. I expect the captain will put out one of the boats, and I'm going to be on it. Bella, would you be willing to go, as well?"

Bella smiled at her lover, very happy that he was bringing at least one of them along. "Of course."

Harry climbed down the rope ladder, and jumped onto the boat. He helped Bellatrix onboard, then pushed away from the Phoenix and away they went. The ten rowers took to their task with gusto, desperate to get to the wreckage. There might be men still living among the debris, and no self-respecting seaman left another in the sea. Not even an enemy.

Harry, and Vignir stood in the prow, scanning the area. Most of the ship had sunk by the time they got to it, and it soon became apparent there were no survivors, going by how many bodies were floating in the ocean, and it was red with blood.

"What happened here?" Bella asked, as she surveyed their surroundings.

Vignir shook his head in an angry way. "Pirates. Slavers, probably."

Harry spotted a large piece of debris some ways off. "Over there!"

They immediately set off towards it, and discovered there was indeed a man lying on top of a door, that was floating there. The captain, judging by his clothing. He was dead, but he'd obviously been tortured, and a symbol of some kind carved into his forehead.

"Bjarni, captain of the Siren," Vignir supplied with a frown. He turned his eyes onto Harry.

"I'm not sure, since we never bothered to ask what ship your elven friends had chartered, but I'd wager a month's pay it was the Siren."

"You recognize the symbol on his forehead?" Harry asked, and reached for captain Bjarni, but as soon as he touched the corpse, a familiar, white hot pain shot through his scar, and he almost fell over board, but Vignir caught him.

Harry felt as if his head was splitting open, and a vision began playing in his mind, of the massacre that had taken place. The Dreadnought, the ship that had attacked the Siren was huge. Much larger than the the Phoenix, and better equipped. The Siren had never stood a chance.

The pirates had taken their time with their prey, slowly whittling away at them, until there was nothing left. Harry noted they had a mage on board, who had set the sails on fire, preventing escape. Then, they had slowly set the ship on fire, and forced the people on board the Siren to abandon ship, to put down the boats.

Instead of bringing them aboard their vessel, in accordance with an ancient, unspoken rule among sailors, they had murdered all of the people in the boats, then gone and forcibly removed the captain from his cabin, denying him the honour of going down with his ship. Then they had gone to work on him. And thus, the vision ended.

"Harry!" Bella called out, desperately, cradling his head in her lap. "Come back to me, my love. Wake up!"

Harry slowly came to, and felt Bella wipe his forehead, and he could smell the blood. He sat up groggily, and grabbed the side of the boat to steady himself.

"What the hell was that?" Vignir asked, and stared at the two of them. "Why is your forehead bleeding, boy?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Harry insisted, and scrambled up onto the nearest thwart, and sat on it.

"Don't lie, boy," Vignir growled at him.

Ignoring the question, Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. "They were attacked by the Dreadnought, Vignir. Know it?"

There was a stunned silence, and Harry could practically feel the fear radiating from the crewmen. Vignir's jaw set and the veins in his neck bulged, as he fought to control his emotions.

"Aye, we know it. Adalsteinn, the most brutal and merciless man to ever sail the seas, captains her. He never leaves any survivors. We need to-"

Before Vignir got any further, the longboat from the Siren bumped into theirs, but there was only half of it. The rest was missing, and it honestly looked like it had been bitten of by something very large.

"Men, get us back to the ship! Quickly!" Vignir shouted.

The men immediately began to row, while Vignir kept his eyes on the ocean, obviously looking for something.

"What has you so scared, Vignir?" Harry asked. "It's not like the Dreadnought can sneak up on us. We would always see them coming. Makes you wonder just where the hell he is," Harry murmured to himself, at the end.

"That's not it, Harry. Legend has it, some kind of beast, or monster follows his ship around, and feasts on the bodies they leave in their wake."

Harry and Bellatrix rose to their feet, and Harry unsheathed his sword, and he could hear Bella mumbling something under her breath.

Then Harry spotted it. A strange looking fin emerged from the deep, about a hundred yards away from the boat, and judging from its size, whatever was chasing them was massive.

"It's coming behind us!" Harry yelled, and was about to run to the aft, but Bella stopped him.

"Wait! It's going to raise its head from the sea, and when it does, I'll hit it."

Harry simply nodded, and the sailors redoubled their efforts to get to the ship. Eventually, the monster had gained enough on them to attack, and, just as Bella had predicted, it reared up from the sea, its mouth open.

The animal was absolutely massive, and Harry thought it had to be a hybrid of a shark and a crocodile, despite such a thing being impossible. The upper portion of its head was indeed that of a crocodile. In fact, it was all crocodile all the way to its fin, which was clearly bone, and not cartilage.

That was about as far as Harry got, before the thing opened its mouth to swallow them whole, and he had to admit, it probably could, seeing how its lower jaw suddenly split in two, and the opening became even larger.

Before they became fishfood, however, Bella thrust her staff forward. The runes on the staff flashed, and some kind of red magic missile burst forth from her staff. It hit the beast right in its mouth, and did enough damage, that the monster retreated. For now. None of them were foolish enough to believe this was over.

Once they reached the ship, they quickly climbed into the ship, and took up their positions, and Vignir went and debriefed captain Eivör. Someone handed Harry a bow and a quiver full of arrows, which Harry, despite knowing the futility of using such weapons against a being like the one they were facing, accepted. Perhaps he'd hit an eye.

"What the bloody hell was that thing, Harry!?" Nym exclaimed as she and Fleur came rushing to them, their weapons at the ready.

"How the hell should I know? Jaws' bigger sister?"

Despite herself, Nym laughed. Then she looked at the bow in her hand. "You think these will do anything?"

"Nope," Harry admitted to her, and looked over to Bella, who was, once again mumbling to herself. "I'll put my money on Bella, and the ballistae."

"Do you think they're fast enough," Fleur asked, and played with the fletchings on the arrow she had resting on the string.

"I don't know," Harry replied, his eyes never leaving the surface of the water. Then Hedwig hooted in alarm from the crow's nest, and took off to the south.

"It's coming in from the south!" Harry shouted, and moved up to the forecastle, with Bella right behind him.

"You going to shock it?" he asked Bella, who had a small patch of lightning in her palm.

"Yes. Water and lightning go so well together," she answered with a feral grin.

"Alright," Harry said, and turned to the three gunners. "Ok. You two! Wait until Bella has shocked that thing, then release the missile."

The three men ignored Harry, and looked at their captain.

"Do as he says!" she shouted from the helm. "I'm delegating the deck to Harry for the duration of this battle!"

After a chorus of 'Aye!, Aye!" the men prepared for the assault.

"It'll hit us mid-ship!" Vignir roared from the aft crow's nest, and everyone reacted accordingly.

Before it hit, Bella released her lightning bolt, and Harry could see the beast shaking, and then both ballistae released their missiles, but only one of them hit, and barely did any damage, and the hail of arrows could just as easily have been a hail of small rocks, but the beast did retreat, once again.

"Hmmm..." Harry rumbled deep in his throat. "Fuck!"

He glanced up, and saw Hedwig had, once again, taken her position on the crow's nest. Harry threw away the bow and quiver, and raced up the ratlines, to join his friend. He scanned the sea, and he could finally see the beast. It was unbelievably big, and he just knew if it hit the ship, it would break. And if it leaped from the sea and onto the deck, that was it.

Harry stared at the blade in his hand for a long time. He knew it was sharp and durable enough to pierce the skin of the monster, especially if he got beneath it. Fingering his neck, he took a deep breath, and removed his shirt, boots, sheath and socks.

He then cut loose a long thin rope, that was used to hoist the flag on the main mast. He tied one end around the pommel of his sword, and the other to his wrist; he was not going to lose it.

Hedwig stared at him. "Is this wise?"

"No. It might be the dumbest thing I've done, so far. I just don't see any other way, Hedwig. There are well over a hundred people on this boat. I refuse to let them die."

"They'll be upset with you," a helpful Hedwig informed him with playful edge in her 'voice'.

Harry chuckled. "When aren't they?" His eyes turned a little sombre, then. "Well, they've reason to be."

Harry looked at her pensively for a moment. "One of these days we're going to have to talk about this new ability of ours, don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose we should," Hedwig said, and ruffled her feathers.

Harry smiled at his friend, and stepped onto the circular railing. He noticed his three lovers staring up at him, and saw Nym stomp her foot onto the deck.

"Harry! No!"

"Harry, don't be stupid!" Fleur screamed at him.

Bella simply put her face in her palm. "It's no use," she groaned. "Once he's made up his mind, we're not going to change it."

Harry dived off, his sword held securely in his hand. He broke the surface of the water, and sank deep down, before he stopped. He soon felt the need to draw breath, but couldn't, of course. His chest felt as if it was about to burst, when a searing pain tore through the sides of his neck, followed by the euphoric sensation of oxygen entering his blood stream.

That wasn't the only change, though. His eyes could suddenly see with perfect clarity in the water. His hands and feet looked strikingly similar to the way they had looked while he had been under the influence of the Gillyweed, as well.

Harry quickly swam away from the ship, and he could definitely see the monster some ways off, still circling the vessel. He finally saw the rest of it, and for the most part, it was a simple shark, if impossibly large. It had a single set of five gills on each side, protected, in part by three sharp horns that grew backwards on its head.

After a while in the water, Harry knew he had to somehow divert its attention from the ship, and so he made a deep cut into his arm, and the blood flowed.

He swam slowly away from the ship, and grinned when he saw the beast slow down, and obviously take note of the smell of fresh blood in the water. It changed direction, and swam towards him quickly.

Thinking this had to be the dumbest thing he'd done so far in his life, Harry swam toward the animal, his sword at the ready. They came together, and Harry quickly angled to the side, took a quick swipe with his sword, and did indeed cut the beast deep enough to draw blood.

He heard, and felt the vibrations in the water, as the monster let out a bellow. It turned to face him again, with alarming speed, and agility. Harry wasn't outdone, however, the spirit of whatever animal Merlin and Gryffindor had mixed into the potion eclipsing his own instincts.

And so Harry moved with the grace and efficiency of a resident of the sea. Again, the large animal approached, and once more, Harry came away victorious. Unfortunately, he had not been able to deal a decisive hit on his opponent, and he came to conclusion that he needed to become the hunter.

Harry shot into motion and ambushed the large shark/crocodile thing, as soon as it came out of the turn, and stuck his sword into its side. However, the sword had somehow become stuck, and Harry couldn't get it free.

The beast howled, and swam away from the Phoenix, towards the Siren, but Harry held fast. He had a feeling Sharky wasn't much in the mood for hunting any more. Too bad for it, that Harry Potter had tasted blood, and given in to his baser instincts, and was, under no circumstances about to let it escape.

Ha yanked, and pulled, pushed, and shook, and finally, the sword came loose, just as the beast came upon the debris filled waters where the Siren had met her end. The sea wasn't that deep, and the animal had obviously meant to get rid of the thing in its side by slamming into the wreck, resting on the bottom.

Harry pushed off Sharky as it hit the large wreck, and was momentarily stunned, an opening Harry did not intend to let slip by. He swam as fast as he could, and found his way underneath the beast. He thrust his sword into Sharky's cloaca, and using the ocean floor, sliced the beast open, a cut that was almost five feet long. It was rather messy when its innards spilled into the ocean.

Sharky thrashed about wildly, looking for its attacker, but soon started weakening, until it finally bled out, and sank to the bottom. Harry warily approached the beast, and prodded it with his sword, but it didn't move. He put his ear to its body, and its heart was indeed still. Making his way to its front, Harry discovered Sharky's mouth was partly open, and he was a bit fascinated with the fact that it had crocodile teeth in its upper gum, and shark teeth in that strange lower jaw.

Wanting a little souvenir from this battle, Harry brought his blade, and removed two teeth, one of each. Once that was done, he began the long swim back towards the Phoenix.

One question kept hunting him on the way back, however; was Bellatrix truly more dangerous than Sharky, or was it just all in his head?

Harry surfaced at the ship's starboard side. He threw the teeth up onto the deck, and quickly climbed the rope ladder. He stumbled onto the deck, and rolled onto his back, his arms resting above his head. He closed his eyes, and felt the gills close up, and he took a sudden and very deep breath, as his normal body functions kicked in once more.

Merlin, was he tired. He felt several people approach. Ignoring them for a moment, he simply lay there, very happy to have accomplished what he'd set out to do. Then Hedwig landed by his head, and bumped her head into his affectionately.

"Well?" Nym asked.

Harry cracked one eye open, and saw Bella, Fleur and Nym standing and looking down on him with very concerned looks. They weren't alone, however, as captain Eivör, Kalas, Asha, and Vignir were all staring at him.

Not bothering to sit up, Harry put his hands behind his head and took a deep breath. "Sharky won't be bothering anyone again, I can tell you that much."

"Is that so?" Eivör asked, her tone disbelieving.

"Yeah," Harry responded. "Look at those teeth. I cut them loose, after I killed it. It's lying by the wreck of the Siren, fittingly enough."

Finally, Harry scrambled to his feet, and noticed almost everyone, aside from his three lovers was a bit apprehensive.

"What's with them?" Harry asked, and jerked with his thumb in their direction.

Bellatrix sighed. "Harry, you've been in the water for almost forty minutes."

"Ah. Right," Harry said with a sheepish grin, and turned to the crew. "Gills," he said, and pointed to his neck. "Rather neat, don't you think?"

"What in the nine hells are you?" Vignir asked in a strange voice.

"Human. Well, I was anyway."

"Alright, Harry, let's go," Bella said, and grabbed his arm, and led him towards the hold, with Nym, Fleur, and Hedwig following.

Once there, Nym proceeded with cleaning his wound, and bandaging it. After she was finished with that, she kissed Harry passionately, and Fleur did the same, before they excused themselves for a bit, so that Bella could clean him.

"I can do this myself, you know," Harry informed his lover, who simply kissed his shoulder.

"I know, but I like doing it. I like running my hands all over your body. It's soothing."

She was done rather quickly, and Harry got dressed again, and the other two came into the hold again. They led their lover to their 'camp', took the bedrolls, and moved them all together. Then, they lay down with Harry in the middle. Fleur cuddled into his right side, Nym into his left, and Bella used his body as a mattress, and rested her head on his chest. Harry found it rather strange. They were being entirely too nice.

"Harry, what happened in the boat earlier?" Bella asked, and stared him in the eye.

Harry took a deep breath, managing to fight down the slight panic that threatened to break forth. He had honestly forgotten it, in all this mess.

"I felt him, Bella."

His lovers froze, and Nym, and Fleur stared at him, as well. "What?" they all asked at once.

Harry was silent for a long while, as he turned everything he knew about Horcruxes this way and that, in his head. Eventually, he landed on a theory. It was a bleak, hopeless conclusion to his thoughts, but it was the only thing he could think of.

"I think I may not actually have destroyed the Horcruxes in the Locket, Cup, and the Diadem. I think I merely sent them here, somehow. And I think one of them may have possessed the captain of the Dreadnought."

"You think you failed to destroy them, because they weren't in a living being? That the only way to effectively destroy Horcruxes is to do it the way Hermione suggested?" Bella asked.

Nym's face warped in distaste. "Have them possess someone," she mumbled in apparent disgust.

"Yes, that's it," Harry said and shivered. "I have no idea how they arrived here, but we're going to have to find them, before we can leave."

"Well, shit," Nym cursed, and laid her head back onto his arm. "I'm not talking any more about this now. I just want to cuddle with my boyfriend," she said happily, which made them all laugh.

After that, there was a long silence, which Harry eventually broke. "So, no big lecture, on how reckless I was?"

Nym burrowed slightly further into her lover. "Harry, as much as we hated seeing you go, what you did was the best way to kill that thing. You managed to draw it away from the ship, which meant less danger to all of us..."

Fleur picked up the thread. "You may not think of yourself as a hero, Harry, but you are. Selfless and brave." She smiled at him, and stole a kiss. "It's who you are, and we've decided not to be bothered by your need to put yourself in harm's way for others. All we ask is that you allow us to return the favour when we can."

Hero? Him? Hardly. Their request was very reasonable, however. "I will."

In the time after Sharky, Harry and the others regularly sat down with captain Eivör, Kalas, and Asha, in Eivör's cabin. Harry, Bella, Fleur and Nym would inquire about this world of theirs, and they had learned quite a bit. According to legend, no race originated in this world; all of them simply appeared over the centuries, one after the other. Beginning with the elves, or the dwarves, depending on who you were speaking to. All the races agreed that Man, and Orc appeared after the elves, and dwarves.

"So, the elves were the first ones to arrive, and settled the world?" Fleur asked Kalas.

"Yes. Mostly in the west, where we supposedly first appeared. Far north of where you met us, Harry. In time, we began expanding the empire, and it spanned almost the whole of the western continent. Then we began exploring the sea and discovered the eastern continent."

"The dwarves appeared in the east, then?" Harry asked with interest.

"Yes, they did," Asha confirmed. "When we came upon them, we recognized their superior craftmanship at once, and established trade with them."

"It was very beneficial to both races, and ushered in what is generally considered to be the golden age of both dwarf, and elf, and lasted for many centuries," Kalas said with pride.

His joy was short-lived, however." Then the Orcs came charging out of the frozen north, and for the first time in many, many generations, we knew war. A long, brutish war, that lasted for ten years."

Harry leaned back in the chair, and listened to his new friends tell him of the history of this world. According to Eivör, the world was divided into three main continents, simply called the north,east, and western continents. The south, however, was a massive expanse of ocean, with many, many islands, and archipelagos strewn about, some uninhabited, and some not.

"And finally, a generation, or two since the end of the Orc Wars, Man arrived, and the world became a rather ugly place, " Eivör said with scorn.

"So where did Man appear?" Nym asked.

"Everywhere, Miss Tonks," Kalas told her. "In the beginning, they created small, isolated communities, that slowly expanded. Then began the skirmishes. Arguments over land, as well as resources became commonplace, and soon after, small wars were breaking out all over the east, and west."

"The elven empire began its decline around that time," Asha informed them. "We couldn't keep pace with the humans. They bred to quickly, and their migrations were swift. They were too quick to adapt to any new environment, and eventually, we had to retreat. Thousands of elves were displaced, particularly in the east, though the problem persisted in the west, though at a smaller scale. It's been a mess ever since."

"Well, let's hope this summit of yours proves successful," Eivör grumbled. "This constant fighting is bad for business."

"Is it?" Harry asked the room, and his eyes found Kalas. "Some people make a very good living off war. At least where my friends and I come from. Someone is clearly benefiting from the chaos, and seems more than keen on maintaining it. Slavers, I should think. And those who transport slaves."

"Well, yes," Eivör conceded.

"You've not found any evidence as to who might be involved?" Nym asked. "After all this time?"

"No," Kalas said.

Before they got any further, Vignir knocked on the door, and entered. "We've spotted land, captain."

"Very good."

The group left the cabin, and Harry joined Eivör at the helm. "What can you tell me about Crossroad Keep?"

"The Keep was built on the island of Thule. The island is almost exactly in the middle between the east and west continents. It's considered neutral ground, and all and any armed conflicts are strictly forbidden on the island."

"And I assume everyone follows this rule?"

"Yes, they do. The original inhabitants of the island, the Celestials are very keen warriors, and no one wants to make them angry."

Harry felt Hedwig stiffen for a second on his shoulder, but didn't think anything of it. "Celestials?"

"A race of avian humanoids. Some say they are the descendants, or children of the ancient gods," Eivör said with a frown. "A load of bollocks, you ask me. Gods, pff..."

"You do not believe in the gods, captain Eivör?" Asha asked, as she came upon the pair.

"No, I do not, young lady," Eivör replied with some force. "Nothing I've seen in my fifty years of living, has led me to believe there are some kind of divine being looking out for us. And if they are, they're doing a piss-poor job of it. If any one of my deckhands ever showed such incompetence, I'd throw them overboard."

Asha looked slightly affronted, but before she could say anything, Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "What can you tell me more about the island?"

The captain took a calming breath, and kept her eyes on the horizon. "The Celestials live in the mountainous region of the north-west. The highlands are mostly uninhabited, aside from a few groups of orcs. Along the southern coast, and parts of the northern areas, you'll find many manor houses, villas, and large farms. The dwarves stick to the Keep, for the most part, while there are some sizeable communities of elves humans, and orc, scattered around the island."

Harry nodded. "And the Keep itself?"

"Well, it's become more of a city, but the keep is still there, of course. The keep was built into a mountain, overlooking a large bay in the south-west part of Thule, and the city grew from there. It's divided into four main quarters, each main race controlling one. Each one also has its own small harbour."

"Ah, yes," Asha said suddenly. "I think it might be prudent, with things being what they are, to put my people and me on shore at the elven quarter. Tensions are high and it should make things less interesting."

Again, Harry nodded. Boring sounded just fine to him...

The Phoenix pulled up against the pier and the crew secured her. Once that was done, the elves made their way down the gangplank. Harry accompanied them. Soon, however, a large group of guards in very decorated armour came marching their way.

"Halt!" An officer came stomping forward. "Kalas?"

Kalas nodded in a strained greeting. "Kiril."

Harry got the distinct impression that Kalas did not like the newcomer, whose eyes roamed over the group, his manner imperious. "Alright, you lot. Come along."

He pointed at Harry, who's ears were hidden by his cap. "Your kind is not welcome here. I suggest you leave."

"No, I don't think I'm going to do that," Harry responded nonchalantly. "I told them I'd see them safely to their destination, and that's what I'll do."

"Why, you-"

"Kiril!"

The man stopped immediately, and turned around, only to find a woman, accompanied by a pair of guards approaching. Kiril bowed deeply, and stepped to the side.

"Milady Shana."

Asha leapt toward the newcomer, and into her arms. "Shana!"

The pair of them hugged for a long while, before they broke apart, and Shana turned toward Harry. "And who might you be, young man?"

"He's Harry from London," Asha informed her aunt happily. "He's been keeping me safe."

Shana's eyes turned pensive. "Has he now? How kind of him. Well, let us make our way to the ambassador's manor, and then you can clean yourselves. I thank you for your service, Harry, but as you can see, I have everything under control."

Harry just smiled. "I'm a man of my word, and I'd prefer to see it done, mistress Shana."

Shana eyed Harry for a long while, before she simply turned on her heel, and marched onwards. Asha let her aunt go, and stayed with Harry, despite protests from the guards.

"They don't seem too happy, Asha," Harry mumbled. "Perhaps you should walk by your aunt."

"No, I don't think so," Asha said firmly. "We may never see each other again, and I'd like to spend as much time with you as I can."

Taken slightly aback, Harry recovered, and gave the young girl a smile. "Well, we've had a decent time, all things considered."

"Yes, we did," Ahsha said, and nodded happily as she did.

Finally, they arrived at the gates of the manor, and Harry took a moment to admire the architecture. It looked very Japanese to him. The house was made out of intricately carved wood, and the eaves curved upward. The walls surrounding the estate were capped in similar fashion, and Harry thought he could hear the telltale sound of a sozu tipping over.

"Well, I guess this is it, then," Harry said, and smiled at Asha. "Are you going to be alright?"

The girl nodded, before throwing her arms around him. "Of course. Thank you, Harry. For everything."

Harry scratched the back of his head. "It was nothing, really."

Kalas shook his head, and clasped Harry's arm. "Fleur said you had a tendency to deflect praise. It's alright to have a little pride in yourself, Harry."

"Yeah. Well, see you around, everyone." And with that, he was gone.

Asha watched him go. "Shana, have one of your Shadows keep an eye on him. I want to know everything there is to know about that boy."

She started gnawing at her bottom lip, her eyes heavy lidded. "He'd make for an amazing king, wouldn't he, Kalas? He'd give me such strong children. We'd have to practice quite a bit, before that, though." She shuddered.

Kalas eyed Harry, who just then disappeared around a bend in the street. Then he turned a pained look onto Asha. "Could you please step out of your disguise, milady? I'm extremely uncomfortable having such a discussion with you, when you're looking like that."

Asha gave him a mock pout. "Oh, alright, Kalas. I suppose I see your point."

The young girl unsheathed a small, wickedly sharp knife, and cut into her upper arm, and removed a small tube that was covered in runes. As soon as she had done that, there was a blinding flash. She let out a gasp, and instead of a little girl, a absolutely breathtaking beauty was standing in her place. She was as dark as her brethren, but her eyes were rather unique, seeing as they were blue, instead of red.

Every person in the vicinity got down on one knee, except Shana, who draped her cloak over her sister Queen Shala.

"You always were one for dramatic entrances, sister," the ambassador said with a grin. "Now, why don't we go inside, and you can tell me everything."

Once more, the Phoenix secured to a pier, but this time, they had sailed over to the human quarter. Harry and his friends went into the hold, and put away their things, and once they were done with that, they disembarked, and met with the captain.

"Well, you four. I´ll have to say, this was quite the adventure!" Eivör said with a grin. "Now, here you go, boy." She held in her hand a leather pouch full of coins.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"Your payment, kid. My crew and I had a discussion the other night, and we decided it wouldn't do, to take payment from someone who saved the ship, and most likely the whole damn crew."

Harry shook his head. "No, I can't. You held up your end of the deal. The money is rightfully yours. Pay the men, Eivör. They deserve it."

The captain noted the look on Harry's face and sighed. "If you're sure?"

"Yeah. Say, you wouldn't happen to know a good place to rent a room, would you?"

"Aye. If you make your way out of the gate, leading to the harbour, there's a large square right up the street. At the other side, there's a large inn, the Silver Cutlass. Now, the prices are a bit steep, but the food and ale is great, and the beds even better."

The sun was beginning to set when they were done saying their farewells and the foursome made their way out of the harbour district. They soon found themselves on the large square Eivör had mentioned, and did indeed spot the Silver Cutlass. It was a big building, and had a large balcony on top of the first floor.

They entered the inn, and looked around the room. "It's rather cozy, eh, Harry!" Nym said joyfully. "Oh, I cannot wait to sleep in a proper bed!"

"Quite right, Nymphadora," Bella said with a relieved smile.

"Oui," Fleur agreed.

She reached up and took of his cap, then took Harry's arm, and basically dragged him laughing, toward the counter, where a balding, stately man in his middle years was busying himself with a few mugs.

"Right! Name's Þorir. What can I getcha?" he asked with a toothy grin. He was in a good mood, and had been for a while. All that business up in the Keep meant business was booming. Not even an elf in his establishment could mess with that.

"Two rooms, and some food, please," Harry said, and took out a few gold coins.

Þorir's eyes gleamed as he saw the coins, and he quickly palmed them. "Can do!" He went over to a wall, and plucked two keys of a pair of nails, and handed them to Harry. "The last two rooms, lad. On the third floor, at the end of the hallway."

Harry nodded. "Food?"

"Aye. I've got some pork and potatoes roasting over the fire. Shouldn't be more than a quarter hour. Since it's such a fine evening, why don't you eat out on the balcony? I'll have the serving girl bring up your ale in a moment."

The four of them went up the stairs, and through the door that led to the balcony. It was really quite crowded, and it took them a while to spot an open table. Then, suddenly, Harry stopped in his tracks. His nostrils flaring as he took in a vaguely familiar scent. Then his eyes widened.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Bella asked in concern.

Harry was staring at a red haired woman who was walking towards him with four empty mugs. She wasn't paying attention to where she was going; shouting something at her friends. Harry didn't register what she was saying, or who they were. All he saw was the young woman who was almost upon him now. She turned her head again, to see where she was going, and bumped into Harry, and stumbled a bit. Harry simply stared down at her.

She grabbed the mugs by the handle, and rose from the table, a bit miffed. Hadn't she been the one to go for more drinks last time? She'd gone a few steps when that flea covered menace shouted something at her she didn't quite hear. She told him to shut up, but as she turned her head again, she bumped into someone, and stumbled back a step.

The woman collected herself. She was a bit annoyed with that lousy mutt for distracting her, especially when it was this crowded. She would have sworn he had done it on purpose. Well, at least the mugs had been empty. She turned a sheepish gaze up into the eyes of the man she'd bumped into, and her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes were emerald green. The exact same colour as her own, in fact. They stared into each other's eyes for a long while. Then her eyes found a strangely shaped scar on his forehead. She fell back again, and dropped the mugs, her eyes, once again staring into his. She slowly approached him again, and gently brushed her fingertips along his cheek, as if she was convincing herself he was actually there.

The man cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to speak, his voice hesitant. "Mum?"

There you go, chapter seventeen!

My Minnie does seem to have a temper, doesn't she?

Queen Shala: just google Dark Elf by dimary, and you should find a gorgeous dark elven female with blue eyes.