Skulls and Crossbones
By: Kneazle
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. Ideas are taken from Peter Pan, Peter Pan: Return to Neverland, Hook, The Adventures of Nate and Hayes, Disney's Shipwrecked, Captain Ron, Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, the Princess Bride, Disney's the Little Mermaid, Disney's Muppet Treasure Island and The Three Musketeers.
~*~
Chapter Three
"Well, that went well, didn't you think?" sneered Lucius Malfoy, his arms crossed, as he stared down his son on his schooner, the Narcissa. "Potter beat you yet again, and you blotch up the plan… so we're back where we started. We don't have the map, we don't have anything."
Lucius uncrossed his arms, brushing some invisible dirt off his black button-up. He stalked towards his son slowly and once he had done that, he all but purred, "So tell me, son of mine, just what are you going to do about it?"
Draco swallowed, tilting his head up a bit in defiance. "I'm going to follow him."
"Follow Potter?"
"Yes."
Lucius let out a bark of laughter. "Are you daft? Never mind, don't answer that. Just why will you be going after Potter, Draco?"
"Because," started Draco, shifting his weight, "Because he has something he is not supposed to have."
"And what is that?"
"Princess Hermione of Richmondshire, Sir," replied the young adult. Oh, he was sick of this stupid cat-and-mouse game his father and he played nearly every day.
Why didn't you catch Potter? Oh, because his brig is too fast for yours? Well, what are you going to do about it? And then there would be a lashing of the cat. His back was still sore from the last whipping he was given.
"The Princess?" Lucius's voice took on a surprised tone. "Are you sure?"
What? I'm lying now? thought Draco bitterly, before he nodded.
"Yes, I am sure. I met her on the street, and then Potter came along, saving the day yet again."
"What is so important about this Princess?" Lucius turned his back on his son and began pacing the wooden deck, stroking his short beard thoughtfully.
Draco took a step toward his father, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword comfortably. He was almost in the clear now. "Because she knew where the piece of the map was. Even if she didn't know, the way she was looking at Potter and I made it clear she knew who we are."
"So?"
"So, what I'm saying is that she seems like the type to do something completely rash and out of character," continued Draco, drawling his words to sound impatient and cocky.
"Get on with it!"
"She wants an adventure," sighed Draco. "And since she's not onboard the Dragon, I can assume she's on the Marauder, with Potter."
Lucius snarled, turning on his son. "Is that all you have to say? Something that we can already presuppose for ourselves?"
Draco's face betrayed his surprise and confusion. In a matter of seconds, his father had stridden forward, his hand grasping a black handle. Attached to the handle were strips of cloth, with hooks attached to the ends. Draco paled visibly. It was the cat.
While he was paling, two of Lucius' men, McNair and Avery, had grabbed Draco. They now turned him and yanked his shirt up from his trousers, allowing the other men onboard the Narcissa to see the still-pink scars of the last whipping Draco received for blotch his duties.
Staring hard at the wooden deck, Draco tried to think of something - anything - else.
He had felt the pain of the cat more than enough to know that he wasn't very fond of the torture device.
He closed his eyes, waiting to hear the whoosh of air, letting him know a split-second later he would feel the skin of his back break and feel the blood ooze down in slow rivets.
Instead, he heard something that sounded remarkably like flesh against flesh. Opening his eyes, he looked behind his shoulder to see Tom Riddle's pale and spidery hand firmly gripping his father's wrist.
"That's enough, Lucius," said Riddle in his usual hiss like way. "He has suffered enough humility from you tonight. Instead, just let him go after Potter and see if he can finally catch up to the Marauder and do something useful."
"And if he manages to?" asked Lucius carefully, letting go of the cat and motioning for Avery and McNair to let go of his son.
"And if he manages it," said Riddle, turning around to face away from the large crowd, his cloak sweeping around his ankles, "Then he can come up with a plan to ruin Potter. But… to ensure this…" His red eyes caught on Draco's silver and held. "I will be placing three of my own onboard the Dragon."
"Really, my Lord, that won't be necessary"-Lucius hastily spoke.
Riddle waved away Lucius's protests. "It will be." His scarlet eyes glittered dangerously in the moonlight. "Bring the Lestranges and Pettigrew forward. Give them their orders, Lucius, and then off you go, little Dragon."
Draco gulped and all but ran back to his brig.
~*~
"Do you have any threes?"
"No, go fish. Do you have any fives?"
"Bloody hell, Luna, how do you win every game?" sighed Ginny as she threw down her cards and stared in dismay at the perfect couples that Luna managed to place face-down. She ran her hands through her red mane and tugged. It just wasn't fair.
"Are you two decent?" interrupted Harry. He was rapping lightly on the wooden frame by their door, averting his eyes to the ground.
"You can come in, Harry," replied Ginny, still mumbling under her breath about Luna's winnings. She watched as her hard-earned money was taken and counted by Luna. "There is ten guineas there, you know. You don't have to count it in front of me!"
Luna grinned sheepishly, something that was odd with her slightly surprised, bug-eyed look. "Sorry."
"If you two are quite done," coughed Harry.
The two girls turned to their captain, apologies on their lips. However, nothing escaped, because they were staring wordlessly at the other female standing behind Harry.
Seeing their gazes, Harry smirked slightly and wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, ignoring the tugging in his stomach. He pushed the girl slightly forward and said, "Ladies, meet Hermione. She'll be joining us on our journey to Tunis."
Ginny jumped up and extended a hand. "How do you do?"
"Fine, thank you," Hermione replied demurely, shaking Ginny's hand and bending down slightly in a curtsey. She turned to Luna and did the same, her eyes darting from the small bolted-down table and cards to the money in Luna's hands, to Ginny and then to Harry. Always back to Harry.
Ginny and Luna shared a knowing look.
Harry coughed and shuffled his feet. "Hermione will need some new clothes to wear and she will be sleeping with you two down here in the forecastle, all right? She'll also need to learn the basics, so I want you two to help here. Understand?"
"Yes, Cap'n!" said Ginny and Luna in unison, mock saluting Harry. Harry looked at them carefully for a couple minutes before nodding and turning back to Hermione. He pulled her off to one side, ignoring Ginny's wink and Luna's grin.
"If these two give you any problems," Harry began, whispering to Hermione with a hand on her shoulder to make sure she looked him in the eye, "If they give you any problems you come to me."
"Will they give me problems?" asked Hermione, alarmed. Her eyes were wide and her voice held a slight tremble.
Harry sighed, pulling her further away from the two, watchful females. "I doubt it, but they might say things that you won't appreciate. You must also not tell them who you really are."
"Why not?"
"Because then I'll be in even more trouble than I am now," sighed Harry, using the hand that was not on Hermione's shoulder to run it through his hair.
He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing Hermione to scrutinize him.
Harry Potter was a very good-looking man, Hermione decided. He had a straight Roman nose, full lips, strong jaw and narrow face, and the most beautiful eyes that Hermione had ever seen in her whole life.
She would do anything he told her to do if he looked her in the eyes, she realized, which was a very dangerous weapon indeed.
Harry opened his eyes, and Hermione mentally swooned. "Did I…" Hermione bit her lip. "Did my coming onboard give you that much trouble? Because if that is the case, I'll just get a rowboat or something and go to shore."
Harry stared at her for a couple seconds before chuckling. "A rowboat?"
Hermione made a face. "Well, I can't have you turn your boat around…"
"Ship, Hermione, ship. Not boat," corrected Harry gently, before shaking his head in silent amusement.
"Now listen to me. I didn't want you on the Marauder for your own good. You're a Princess, not a sailor. However, I am allowing you your adventure, but that's it. I can't predict what's going to happen and I certainly do not want your death on my conscience if we come under fire. That is why I didn't want you here."
"Oh." Hermione looked at the floor. "I'm sorry."
"Doesn't matter now, anyway," he sighed impatiently, cupping her chin with the hand that was on her shoulder.
Hermione instantly missed its warmth. He tilted her head up to look at him in the eye. "Will you promise me that you'll do exactly what everyone on this brig tells you to do?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
Hermione blinked. "What do you mean, 'yes, what'? I said yes, didn't I?"
Harry inwardly laughed. This woman is priceless, he thought. Has enough spunk to last this journey easily. "I am the captain of the Marauder, Hermione, and you will address me as such, like Luna and Ginny did. Now, yes what?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Good." Harry let go of Hermione's chin and pushed her back into the room they had vacated. Luna and Ginny were standing suspiciously near the door, appearing as if they were engrossed with looking at a book.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you three to get acquainted." He then turned on his heel and left the room, muttering about women and their stubborn ways.
Hermione watched the door until she couldn't hear him anymore. Then she turned and looked carefully at the two only females on the boat… er; ship, she silently told herself.
The redhead, Hermione noticed, was the tallest of them. She towered over Hermione a good three inches, and held herself like she knew what she could do.
"I'm Ginny," she introduced. She then pointed to the blonde who was just a bit shorter than Hermione. "That's Luna."
"Are you related to Harry's - the Captain's - first mate?" asked Hermione, stumbling over the unfamiliar term. She nervously smoothed down her ball gown fabric.
Ginny nodded. "Ron's my older brother." She steered Hermione towards the table and forcibly placed her on one of the seats. "Luna, she's about your size. She can borrow your pants, but she's more my size on top."
"Excuse me?" asked Hermione, incredulous. She knew that she was going to wear new clothes, but to have Ginny and Luna looking at her that way, talking about her body parts like that startled her.
Ginny waved away Hermione's surprise. "You need something to wear, and that, whatever you're wearing, will not do."
Hermione paused, thinking Ginny's words over. Nodding, she said almost severely, "Would you hurry up and get me out of this thing, then?"
Luna laughed. "Certainly."
"What?" Hermione squeaked, glaring at the younger girl for laughing at her.
Luna and Ginny shared another look before bursting out in laughter.
~*~
"Why in Titan's name did you bring her onboard?" moaned Ron as he glanced over at his dark-haired friend. Harry's hands were folded behind his back as he stared out at the choppy waters from the head of the brig.
"Because she wants an adventure, Ron," commented Harry from where he stood, "Why should I have refused her? She'll be safe in Tunis and I'll have a merchant ship take her back to Port Silver. Nothing will happen to her. I'm sure Remus can guess where she is too."
"Still! Frightful bad luck," moped Ron.
"Ron, be careful about what you say. You're including Ginny and Luna in that," warned Harry, glancing over his shoulder. "Besides, Ms. Granger seems like the type to be able to take care of herself. She won't be complaining about being onboard the Marauder anytime soon."
Ron mumbled something under his breath but didn't argue any further. Instead, he tapped his dagger on the table that was closest to him, thinking.
"For someone who is very carefree and exuberant, you're very quiet," murmured Harry as he came to stand in front of his friend.
"Just thinking," mumbled Ron, his ear tips tinting red. Harry grinned.
"Thinking of whom?"
"None of your bloody business, that's who!" replied Ron hotly, standing abruptly.
Harry rolled his eyes. He turned and unbuckled his sword strap, grabbing the sheath and placing it carefully on his bed. He undid his red sash and pulled his bandana off.
"You, mate, are insufferable," Harry finally admitted. Ron chuckled.
"Likewise!" Ron's good-natured smile fell off his face as he asked, "So are you going to tell me whom this illustrious Ms. Granger is?"
Harry spun on his heel and said quickly, "No."
One of Ron's red eyebrows rose, disappearing under his fringe. "Really? Why not? Is she someone special, secret? A hidden desire of yours?"
"Ron," growled Harry, all humor and jokes gone, "You're treading on dangerous waters. Drop the subject. Now."
Ron's other eyebrow disappeared. He held his hands up and took a few steps back, his eyes guarded and wary. Opening the door to leave Harry's captain quarters he shook his head. "All right, Captain. I understand. I won't overstep my boundaries again, now that you've made them blatantly clear."
He then slipped through the open door, leaving Harry alone in his quarters.
~*~
"Now, Hermione," began Ginny, adjusting her top on the petite girl, "You'll be working with Luna and I down in the galley first thing this morning, making some food for the lads."
"Cooking?" squeaked Hermione. "Look, I know that being onboard is going to be a bit interesting and hard at first… but still… um, now would be a great time to mention I can't cook."
Luna chuckled. "Really?"
"Yes," replied Hermione, her cheeks tinting red. Ginny placed a comforting arm around her.
"Don't worry. You can make Harry's breakfast then."
"What?" Hermione glanced at the redhead.
Ginny and Luna shared one of their looks that Hermione was noticing all too well. "We know who you are, and Harry obviously reckons we're dumb or something."
"What do you mean, 'who I am'?" Hermione stuttered. She squared her shoulders and tried to look as defiant as she could wearing an old shirt of the first mate's and Luna's pants. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Luna laughed. "Oh come on, landlubber! You're the princess, Hermione - we're not daft!"
Hermione's eyes darted from one girl to another. Sighing, she sat on the hammock that served as her bed the night before. "All right. What do you want of me?" she asked wearily.
"Nothing," replied Ginny, sitting next to the girl, making the hammock sway. "We just want to poke some fun at the captain for thinking us simple."
"And you want me to cook his breakfast? How does that work?" asked Hermione.
Luna and Ginny grinned. "Why, you can't cook. And he'll have to eat or else he won't have enough strength to go on for the rest of the day."
"Oh. Revenge," said Hermione, realizing their plan.
"Mais oui!" winked Ginny, standing. "What do you say? Are you in on the plan?"
Hermione shrugged. "Oh, why not."
Ginny and Luna whooped before hauling Hermione off the hammock and dragging her toward the galley.
~*~
Harry stared at the lump of black mass that was situated in the middle of his fine china plate. Around it were undercooked pieces of broccoli and carrots, and the bread on the side was stale. Ron was covering his mouth with his hand, trying to unsuccessfully muffle his snorts of laughter.
Harry shot him a glare, thinking how much he sometimes hated his older friend. Picking up a fork, he poked at the meat, and asked in wonder, "Just what is this, Ms. Granger?"
Hermione fidgeted, placing her hands in front of her. "Well, it's beef. The last piece, because it'll spoil if we don't use it now. And those are vegetables, Captain, and bread. I thought that that was pretty obvious."
"Well…" Harry hesitated. The vegetables and bread were obvious but that sure didn't look like beef to him. He poked at it again and inwardly grimaced when the fork made a squish noise. That did not sound good.
"Is something the matter? You don't like it?" Hermione's lower lip trembled. She, Ginny and Luna had been doing this for the past week already, hoping to get Harry to crack. Hermione was fairly sure that he knew by now that she couldn't cook, but was far too kind to ask for Ginny or Luna to make his meals instead.
Hermione was, of course, trying her best to make decent meals but it just seemed that she and cooking didn't mix well. Which was strange, because she managed to excel at everything else Luna and Ginny tossed her way.
For, in the past week onboard the Marauder, Hermione had managed to keep the deck clean, tie a perfectly strong sailor's knot, help unfurl one of the jibs, and even managed to walk in a straight line after being ridiculed by someone named Dean for looking drunk. She couldn't help it if she didn't have sea legs on the first day of working, now, could she?
So there Hermione was, standing in Harry's captain quarters which she was becoming very intimate with, watching him carefully. He had a disgusted look on his face, but was trying very hard to mask it. He wrinkled his nose once, before picking up the knife and cutting the meat.
Hermione inwardly shouted with glee. Finally, after waiting a whole week, she would see him try to eat that piece of overcooked beef!
Harry cut a small piece, grimaced, and placed it in his mouth.
Ron couldn't help but let out a howl of laughter, before running from the room, nearly doubled over.
As he chewed, Harry watched Hermione's face for some hint that she was doing this deliberately. Still, he couldn't see anything but worry and hurt.
Finally, he swallowed and rasped out a, "delicious", before cutting another piece. Hermione's eyes bugged and her jaw dropped.
"A-Are you sure?" she stuttered, taking a step forward.
Harry stood. "Of course not," he replied easily, taking the plate and opening the large window at the back of his room. He tossed the contents out and then shut the glass pane.
He then put the plate down and crossed his arms. "You're doing a very good job at ruining my meals, but that just means that you'll have to share your meal with me."
"Share!" protested Hermione.
"Yes. Half of your meal will become mine," clarified Harry, smirking at Hermione's fallen expression. "You should actually make the meal edible."
"I tried!" Hermione sighed. "I really did… I just can't cook. I told Ginny and Luna that, but they wouldn't listen. Payback, said they."
Harry's eyebrows rose. Ah, payback? They must know who Hermione is. "And you went along, plotting against your captain? Do you know that you could walk the plank for that?"
Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at Harry. "Walk the plank?" she echoed in a small voice.
"Yes," nodded Harry, chuckling to himself. Of course she wouldn't walk the plank, he was just playing with her. And damn, does it feel good, he thought, before brushing that thought aside. He mustn't be thinking of her like that.
Hermione felt the tears well up in her eyes and tried to unsuccessfully stop them from spilling onto her cheeks. She didn't want to walk the plank - she wanted to stay onboard and do a good job so that Harry liked her. She knew he didn't and wanted to change that because she wanted his respect and for him to joke around with her. She never had friends her own age, with the exception of Lavender and Parvati who just enjoyed saying that they knew "Princess Hermione of Richmondshire".
Harry felt his gut clench as he noticed the tears spill from Hermione's eyes. He closed his own painfully, before stepping forward and taking her in his arms.
"Shh, I was just teasing you," he soothed, running his hand down her back as her hiccups and tears subsided. "I didn't reckon that you would take it so seriously, Hermione."
Harry tried to keep his mind on soothing Hermione and away from any other thoughts that were popping up at inappropriate times. He just couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of her in his arms; they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.
Unable to keep his thoughts and hormones in check, the nineteen year old glanced down at the bushy, brown haired Princess who had one hand clenching his shirt tightly and the other wiping her tears away.
Harry pushed her slightly away before using his thumb to brush a few lingering tears into oblivion. He gave Hermione a small smile, which she hesitantly returned.
"All right now, landlubber?" he asked softly.
"I think so," she replied in a similar soft tone.
With his hand still cupping her cheek, Harry leaned slightly forward, and Hermione leaned up toward him, anticipating what was going to happen.
Harry could feel her breath on him, and noticed the slight hitch just before he put his lips against hers, savoring their soft feel and sweet taste.
Almost as soon as the kiss began, he pulled back, screaming at himself. Just what do you think you're doing? She's a princess - you're a pirate! You can never be!
He pushed her away, using more force than necessary. Harry felt a slight pang when he noticed Hermione stumble slightly, a surprised and hurt look in her eyes.
He swallowed, taking a small step forward, but she shivered and took one away from him. Hermione turned and picked up the tray in which she brought his food to him, and said, "I'll just be going then."
She was out of the room before Harry realized what had happened.
~*~
Hermione placed the tray on the bolted down table in the galley, thankful that both Ginny and Luna had other duties to attend to while she sorted out her muddled thoughts.
Harry kissed you! was the most prominent of her thoughts.
She could still taste and feel him, and shivered briefly in delight before remembering his face and the way he pushed her away. Hermione felt her face turn crimson as she recollected the look of shock and something else that was on Harry's face when he pushed her.
Bowing her head, Hermione gripped the sides of the table, her knuckles turning white. She exhaled slowly, and straightened her shoulders when a loud boom reverberated through the brig, making the wood shudder and groan.
Hermione heard the surprised shouts and angry noises of gun and cannon fire. An odd sound - like metal hitting wood - reached her ears and then chaos erupted.
Glancing toward the doors, Hermione ran out of the galley and up the stairs that led to the main deck.
She poked her head around one of the wooden posts and nearly screamed. The Marauder was under attack!
There was a man attacking poor Neville right in front of Hermione. The other pirate was tall and broad shouldered, with tanned skin and short, feathery dirty blond hair. He was brandishing a large, curved sword that glittered in the Mediterranean sunlight.
The pirate raised the cutlass right above his head and Hermione knew she had to do something to save Neville Longbottom, the sweetest pirate she ever met.
Spying a discarded sword on the ground, Hermione wrapped her fingers around the heavy hilt and heaved the blade into the air. She then took a few steps forward before swinging the blade in an arch and letting it go where she wanted.
Closing her eyes, Hermione realized she didn't want to see someone's dead body, and waited for something to happen.
Nothing did.
Instead, she heard a low, recalcitrant growl, and someone's large hand wrapped around hers holding the sword.
Letting her eyes blink open, Hermione came face-to-face with her first Barbary pirate. She let out a tiny squeak of fear, but stared boldly into his blue eyes.
"Je ne pense pas que ce serait sage, mon amour1," he said in French.
Hermione's eyes widened. Her mouth opened to stutter silently, as she realized that the Marauder was under French fire outside of Ghar el Melh2, Tunisia.
"It may not be an wise idea, sir, but you are attacking the boat I am on, and as Princess Hermione of Richmondshire, I demand that you leave at once!" Hermione snapped, finally finding her voice. She tugged on the hilt of the sword, trying to remove her hand from under the French Barbary pirate.
The man merely laughed. He used his other hand to pull Hermione close to him and then, when she was securely placed between his torso and arm; he removed her fingers from around the sword until it dropped with a clatter to the deck.
Hermione was petrified. Now what? She had revealed her identity, tried to use physical force to get the man to leave, and nothing worked. There was only one thing left, Hermione decided. She opened her mouth and let out a shrill scream.
~*~
Harry was fighting with a young corsair when he heard the scream. The hairs at the back of his neck stood, and with a final punch, Harry knocked the young man out. Turning to see where the scream originated from, Harry felt as if someone punched him in the gut when he saw Hermione being held hostage in some corsair's arms.
His blood began to boil, and before Harry could even wonder why he felt so protective of the young royal, he had grabbed a line and was sailing toward the two, over the heads of his crewmates and enemies.
He landed on the deck gracefully, crouching slightly as he pulled a dagger from the top of his boot.
He faced the man holding Hermione, and asked, "What do you want?"
The corsair's eyes widened in mirth as he looked down at the young man who wanted to win back the lady he had stolen. "Êtes-vous le capitaine de ce bateau3?"
Harry let his head nod slightly as he kept his eyes on the man. "Oui. Now, why don't you just let Hermione go and we'll continue this by ourselves," he suggested, taking a step forward carefully, his dagger pointing toward the two in front of him.
He flexed his fingers on his left hand and licked his lip.
The corsair looked as if he was contemplating Harry's offer when he chuckled and said, "Non. Pourquoi cette femme est-elle si importante? Est-elle votre amante? Ou est-elle votre otage, hmm4?"
Harry felt his blood run cold. What was he to do now? Say Hermione came onboard the Marauder herself, and wasn't a hostage or his lover? Tell the pirate that she was important to him, but he didn't know why?
Harry felt time slip through his fingers as the battle went on around him. He began to sweat as he thought of a proper answer to the question, his eyes staring unfocused at the Frenchman.
Finally, the man sighed and whistled loudly enough to capture the attention of his crew.
Without warning, he released Hermione from his arms and pushed her gently toward Harry, who caught her, surprised.
"You think with your head, not your heart," the Frenchman said in flawless English, nodding at Harry.
Shocked, Harry sputtered, "W-who…?"
The Frenchman bowed at his waist and with a sweeping motion took his tricorn hat from his head. "I am Compte Pierre d'Orrlyon, a French count stationed here in Tunis to increase trade and hospitality. And you, monsieur?"
Harry blinked before answering with a similar bow at the waist, "Viscount Harold Potter, milord. May I ask why you decided to stop our battle?"
The Count nodded. "Of course." He glanced at the young woman nestled protectively in Harry's arms and let a small smile grace his lips. "It is because of that magnifique princess in your arms."
"Princess?" Harry heard Seamus whisper to Dean, from behind him. "Is that bushy-haired Miss Granger a princess?"
Harry cringed and gritted his teeth as he looked at Hermione. She was looking pointedly at his shoulder, both her hands gathering the material of his shirt in bunches. Harry contracted his hand that rested on her waist. When she looked up at him curiously, he offered her a quick, warm smile, before facing the Count again.
"What is it that you wish of me, d'Orrlyon?" he asked carefully.
The Count d'Orrlyon smiled. "My dear Potter, really, one would think it obvious. I am a French noble placed here with the - ruthless - Barbary pirates. Because of the precious cargo you are carrying with you"-he looked pointedly at Hermione-"I will be able to grant you passage into Ghar el Melh."
"For supplies?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes. I promise you safe passage for one day and night here, and then you shall be on your way to wherever you need to be," d'Orrlyon replied.
"Excellent." Harry grinned, striding forward, taking Hermione with him. He held out a gloved hand (the one that was still not holding the dagger) to the Count. "Is that an accord we should shake on?"
"I believe it is," the Count replied with a slight grin on his face. "Are you… savvy?"
Harry laughed out loud. "I am! Thank you, Compte d'Orrlyon. Your generosity shall not be forgotten."
"Merci, Vicomte Potter. Si vous avez besoin jamais de mon aide, vous savez où me contacter5," the Count said, going back to French.
Harry nodded as Hermione looked back and forth between the two, her eyes narrowed and her brain working overtime.
~*~
The sun was setting when Draco and his ship finally glided into the harbor at Ghar el Melh. Draco was nervous and tense, and Blaise (who stood behind him) was no better off. In fact, the whole crew was silent and somber as they left Port Silver. Draco knew it had something to do with the two tall and foreboding figures that stood in the dark by the helm.
Draco shivered. The Lestranges gave him the willies.
"That's the Marauder," said Blaise quietly, pointing to a brig between two others. "It seems that Potter made some friends."
"Indeed," murmured Draco in reply, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his nemesis' craft. "What do you propose we do, Blaise?
Shall we wait or risk an attack while Potter's unsuspecting and vulnerable?"
"You've always had a sense of honor," reminded Blaise, his eyes flitting to the Lestranges and back to Draco. "If I were you, I'd play it safe until I could maroon the odd couple and the rat."
"Good idea," sneered Draco softly, as his own eyes unwillingly went to the two shadowy figures. "Any idea where that rat is now?"
"Below, sleeping of all things. Is the laziest merda6 I have ever seen," ground out Blaise, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Draco snorted. "I don't know how Riddle puts up with him. Probably keeps him around as a memento to the day he killed the Potters."
"Probably," agreed Blaise. "So? What shall we do?"
"Weigh anchor and send the crew inland on the wherry. I believe that it's time to go hunting."
Blaise grinned in the growing dark, and saluted. "Yes Cap'n!"
Draco watched silently as the Dragon found a relatively safe and obscured place to anchor and his men began to lower the wherries with some of the crew already in the small boats. Once they were lowered, the men began rowing toward the shore, some singing songs that carried on the still wind.
"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest - Yo ho, ho and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest - Yo ho, ho and a bottle of rum!"
Draco grinned despite the unease he felt on his own ship. Goyle could never hold his liquor well, and there he was, singing about drinking. Slowly walking toward the last wherry that Blaise was securing, Draco wondered what his plan of action would be.
Try to sneak onboard the Marauder? No, too well guarded. Perhaps Potter had taken the princess to shore?
Unlikely. Draco snorted. His best bet was to corner one of the crew and make them talk at sword point.
With that in mind, Draco let Blaise row them to shore.
"Are you going to go after Potter tonight?" he asked as the oars cut through the dark water.
"No. I think someone else. Who do you think would crack under pressure, mate?" asked Draco, fixing his cuffs and making sure his sword was in pristine condition.
"Either that Longbottom swab or one of those redhead fools, the Weasleys. They're always good to provoke," Blaise suggested, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Both laughed, and soon the wherry bumped against the sand bar under them. Blaise jumped out first, soaking his pants as he dragged the small boat closer to shore. Draco then got out and helped, and then placed the oars in the boat, which they both turned over together.
"We'll meet back here with the crew at midnight, savvy?" Draco commanded, his hand resting on his sword belt.
"Yes, Cap'n," approved Blaise, before he melted into the darkness. Draco waited a bit before turning on his heel and striding down the cobblestone path.
He had just turned one of the corners that led towards the center of Ghar el Melh when he spotted a bushel of red hair. He silently pulled his sword out and stalked to his prey.
Within seconds of reaching the figure, he had the Weasley pushed up against one of the mud walls, his sword pointed at the throat.
"Hello," he purred dangerously. "Why don't we remove this cap of yours to see which Weasley I've been granted the pleasure of meeting tonight?"
The figure said nothing, so with a careless flick of his wrist, the blade tipped the hat off the Weasley.
A pile of red curls fell over the girl's shoulders.
Surprised, but not showing it, Draco raised an eyebrow in appreciation. "I never knew that the Weasley's had a daughter."
"Well, now you know," replied the redheaded, freckled girl, her topaz eyes glaring stonily at him beneath long lashes. "What is it you want, Malfoy? Because I certainly know who you are."
Draco grinned. "Just some information, my dear, and then I'll be on my way."
"Information on whom?" Ginny replied, tilting her chin up at him.
"Why, on Potter's new love interest, Hermione Granger, the Princess of Richmondshire," Draco grinned, the sword never wavering an inch. "Now, Weasley, why don't you tell me what you know?"
~*~
Three hours later, Draco and Blaise arrived back at their wherry with the rest of the crew coming slowly.
"What did you find out?" asked Blaise in an undertone.
Draco smirked. "Enough." Turning, and lowering his voice still, Draco faced Blaise and said urgently, "I want you to send a letter to Richmondshire's royal family. Tell them that Viscount Harry Potter, England's own mysterious and bitter privateer, has kidnapped the Princess and as a dangerous pirate, is keeping her prisoner. I think that will be enough of the basic information to stir England up, won't it?"
Blaise nodded in satisfaction. "I'll get right on it when we return. Should I just leave it as it is?"
"Oh no," said Draco, shaking his head. "Add some details in. You're creative… make up the rest."
"Yes sir," Blaise grinned, saluting his captain, before pushing the wherry out into the water and climbing onboard.
It seemed that things were beginning to look up for Draco and the crew of the Dragon.
**-**
1: "I don't think that would be wise, my love."
2: Ghar el Melh is in Tunisia about 60 km North of Tunis, the capital. It was an old pirate and smuggler's port in the 17th century that lasted well into the 19th until the lagoon began to silt open. It has a fortress, small village and wonderful architecture.
3: "Are you the captain of this ship?"
4: "No. Why is this woman so important? Is she your lover? Or is she your hostage, hmm?"
5: "Thank you, Viscount Potter. If you ever need my help, you know where to contact me."
6: "Shit," in Italian
**-**
AN: Wow, okay, sorry for the very long wait. Almost a month! *cringes* Anyway, thanks to Katie yet again for beta'ing, despite the broken fingers and school that bothered us both. You guys know the drill - read, review and enjoy! Yours, Kneazle
AN2: [Oct. 16, 2003] Thanks to ilu, for the correct terminology in French. It's been way too long for me to remember my own French classes. Thanks ilu!