A loud boom echoed through the open air. The sounds of pillaging and plundering ceased and all eyes turned toward the crew manning the canons. They had already captured the mansion, the canons should be silent.
First Mate Black took a swig of grog and cursed mightily, comparing the canon mates to the goats that Aberforth was so found of and promising that moldy bread and stale coffee was in their future if they didn't shape up and shoot right.
The canon mates looked down at the First Mate, then Captain Potter, and then Miss Johnson. Each time, they held up their hands palms up and shook their heads. They hadn't made that shot.
Another loud shot filled the air and scant seconds later part of Rookwood's roof disappeared in a hail of wood and shingles.
Rookwood, who had been cowering under an overturned couch peaked his head out to see a young man in an odd red coat with gold trim. His glossy high buckled black boots shown in the sunlight along with his gleaming saber and dirk. The pirate captain's hat atop his head completed the look and Rookwood couldn't help but gulp as he took in how pointy the saber looked while pointed at his throat. But the man's attention wasn't focused on him.
From beyond the tree line behind the estate, a mast could be seen among bending trees moving relentlessly forward. It flew the Union Jack from its main-mast.
Harry narrowed his eyes. He shouted to his crew. "Hurry up, ya' scurvy sea dogs!"
As the bow slipped out from between the trees, the flag shimmered for a moment and then was replaced by the predominantly red of the privateer. Just before the ship completely cleared the tree line, a second flag could be seen from Mizzen-mast -- solid black with a witch holding a book in one hand and cutlass in the other.
Harry kicked Rookwood in the mouth, sheathed his blade and then neatly turned on one heel to begin stomping back to his ship. "Clear out, you bilge rats. We've got company!"
Still in pain and missing a few teeth, Rookwood came to his shaky feet. His mansion was in ruins, the pirates had demolished the entire front of his home and the other ship had taken off half the roof--"
*BOOM!!*
*CRASH!!*
*SPLINTER!!*
Rookwood dove underneath his couch once more as the rest of his roof came crashing down. There he stayed until someone tapped him on the shoulder.
"Commodore Granger at your service," said a pleasant but forceful voice.
He looked up in surprise. She was resplendent in her blue, white and gold - and the bicorn hat completed the ensemble. "What are you doing here?"
"Harry Potter's gone rogue. He's cut a swatch of destroyed mansions and plundered estates all across Magical Britain."
"No, I mean, what are YOU doing here!? This is a job for the Aurors!"
"No need for Aurors. They'd spoil my chances." Hermione said simply. She reached slowly into her uniform coat and withdrew a sheaf of parchment. "Letters of Marque signed by Fudge himself." After giving the prone man a few moments to read the documents, she replaced them in her coat.
"All right. So you're in charge of capturing Potter. I understand that. But why specifically YOU?"
Commodore Granger smiled a perfectly white, straight, toothy grin. "Because in all the world, I know Harry Potter best. And when I find him, I'll tie him down," to my bed, "torture him," with silk scarves and gentle caresses, "and teach him the true nature of his folly," by bedding him until he wilts. "He shall know my wrath," for playing pirate without me. "By the end, he will scream my name begging for mercy," and release!
Rookwood couldn't help by smile at the image the mudblood painted. That sort of goal he could stand behind. The effect was ruined by the two missing front teeth. "Allow me to aid you in your quest," he declared with a lisp. Painfully, he went to his dresser, mercifully spared the fates of his paintings, bookshelves and wall safe. If Commodore Granger hadn't arrived, then he felt sure the pirates would have left him completely penniless.
Limping painfully back to the muggleborn privateer, he stood before her, opened his money sack and counted out a handful of coins to hand to her to aid her fight against the dread pirate Potter.
But Hermione was quicker. Before Rookwood could hand her the galleons, she had relieved him of his money bag and was already tying it to her waist. Gob smacked and still holding the four galleons, Rookwod could only gape as Hermione thanked him for his contribution and walked off with the full, weighty bag of gold jingling against her white breeches.
Recovering his ability to speak, Rookwood began to yell about the damage to his house. From what he could see, none of her shots had damaged Potter's vessel in the least but had instead removed HIS roof.
Just stepping onto her deck, she called back, "Sorry about that. Our gunner's mate is still getting the hang of black powder. Isn't that right Miss Lovegood?"
"Aye Captain!" chirped Luna. Smiling wildly, her face smudged with power, she gave a smart little salute with the ramrod, which was already blackened from spent powder. Her long blond hair was pulled back by a pirate bandanna and her Butterbeer cork necklace seemed right in place around her neck.
Motioning for her first mate, Miss Bones, to make ready to sail, she yelled to her crew. "We'll catch that scallywag yet. Mark my words."
The crew on deck composed of Hannah Abbot, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and the Patil Twins answered in unison. "Aye Aye Captain!"
*SWISH*
*SWISH*
*SWISH*
Hermione's chest felt cold. Not again...
Eyes closed and biting her lip, she glanced downward. Her white blouse was hanging open... again. He'd ruined another shirt and another bra. Fortunately her crew was all female and the only male immediately around was Harry. Not like he hasn't see it before a couple hundred times.
*sigh*
She looked up to find Harry had escaped back to his own ship.
Her eye twitched for a moment as she glanced into the distance and spotted another ship closing in on them. Aurors. Damn them to Davy Jones!
She fell to her knees in frustration. "WHAT'S A WITCH GOTTA DO TO GET SOME ALONE TIME WITH HER MAN!?"