Chapter Thirty-Six: The Wharf
"What - what in Merlin's name?!" Ron sputtered out, tripping back several steps as he did, alarmed and
careful to give Mundungus a good distance - or what was left of him anyways. It was not a pretty sight, the curse
hellish in its effect.
"Harry..." a soft voice beckoned him, followed by a tender hand upon his shoulder, pulling him away. Harry ignored it, shrugging it off as he continued working feverishly over Mundungus, battling the dire curse with all he had. "It - it's too late, Harry. He is gone..."
"Goddamn you, Fletcher!" Harry suddenly erupted, yelling at the dead man. A swell of anger poured out of him as he pound the base his fist hard against the fallen wizard's chest. "Goddamn you..."
Just as fast as Harry's well of emotion rose, it faded away into the abyss. There was no more use. He reached up with one hand, checking Mundungus's pulse, or lack there of. It was over. Another fallen. Another dead. The Reaper stalked him like a ghost in the night, unable to evade him, unable to avoid him. Harry's face once again turned back into that cold stone - expressionless, unreadable.
"I didn't want..." Harry closed Mundungus's lids. "I couldn't stop it..." Harry said as the weight of it visibly pressed down upon his shoulders, forcing them towards the ground, he assuming all the responsibility of this most recent fatal failure. "I - I couldn't save him," he rambled on, biting at his tongue. The silence that followed was total, his two companions looking worriedly to one another, unsure just of what to do next.
Harry rose to his feet with his back to them, his robes forming, regaining a steady pace of his breath. "Daemon's Wharf..." was at first all he said. The two others cocked their heads at him, thinking he may have just gone insane. "Have either of you heard of it? Daemon's Wharf?"
"H-Harry?" Ron questioned him warily.
"What do you mean, Harry? Why?" Ginger added.
"Mundungus..." Harry was reluctant, but continued on nevertheless. "He was cursed... but that wasn't all. Someone was in his mind... toyed with it. Everything..." he shook his head, looking towards the ground. "Everything was a dead end. Just a voice... repeating over and over again, Daemon's Wharf..."
"Daemon's Wharf?" Ron repeated, confused.
"It's just outside of London..." Ginger answered to the surprise of the two boys. Both Harry and Ron spun on their heels to face her, causing her to shrink back a step.
"Where?" Harry demanded of her with a certain surge of intensity.
"East!" she blurted back, nearly shouting, assaulted by his fierce gaze. "At the mouth of the Thames and bay, not far from Southend..."
Harry began to move, skirting past both of them for the door.
"But Harry..." Ginger's frightened voice stopped him in his tracks. "It's abandoned. Been so for years..."
"Perfect," Harry retorted, starting on his way again.
"Harry!" Ron called after him, halting him once more. By the look of surprise and angst etched across his face, he apparently did not expect Harry to stop, and then scrambled for some use of words when he did. "What - what are you going on about? Daemon's Wharf?"
"It's all I've got to go on..."
"You... Legilimens?" Ron started piecing things together.
Harry only nodded.
"But you said it yourself, Harry..." Ginger spoke back up. "Someone had messed with his mind. Certainly this is just some kind of trap!"
"Yes," Harry said simply. "I know." Turning to Ron, he added "I think it's about time you took Ginger back." Harry's next move was unsurprising - more death caused by him. Ron and Ginger needed to get away. Far, far away.
"This wasn't your fault, Harry," Ron took a stand. "We're here to find Hermione. I'm not going anywhere."
Harry's taut lips twitched into a frown as he looked back across them, past them, to Mundungus's limp form still bound within the chair. Harry paused. "You don't understand, Ron. Do you want to end up like this - like him?!" he finished most angrily, disgusted, gesturing sardonically to the lifeless wizard.
"You don't understand, Harry," it was a rebuke, but Ron delivered it with a calm empathy. "I'd have been dead a long time ago if it weren't for you. We are the Trio, forever and always, until the end. I'm not leaving you again, and I'm not leaving Hermione. We're going to get her back - together," Ron was incessant.
Harry visibly deflated, his will to argue sapped. Instead, he used his wand to release Mundungus, transforming the chair in the process into a stretcher of sorts, laying the man down gently upon the ground.
"We need to..."
"I know some people who can tend to him. He'll be in good hands..." Harry and Ron both looked to Ginger as she spoke up once more. "Harry..." Ginger dared, "I - I'm in too. I can help. We can help."
Harry suddenly turned on her, his emerald eyes flashing that dangerous hunter's green. "Help?!" he hissed. "You'll be dead by tomorrow."
"I'll be dead if I don't go!" Ginger rose with a sudden coming of courage. "Whoever is behind this, they're tying up their loose ends! You think Fletcher was the first?!"
"Huh?!" Ron guffawed. Harry looked to her quizzically.
"He wasn't! Something's going on, and I am safest here, with you two. Besides, if you're going to Daemon's Wharf, you're going to need me!"
"Need you?" Harry voiced with doubt. "Why? How do you know of Daemon's Wharf?"
"I - I'm from London," she sounded more defensive. "It's an old haunt of our kind, mostly just squatters and the occasional mischievous kids up to no good. I've been down there a few times..." she answered him.
"Then you can take me there?" It sounded more like a command than a question.
"I can."
"But Harry!" Ron stepped forward. "You just admitted it yourself! This is a trap!"
"Yes, well," Harry did not falter. "I am going to take the bait."
. . . .
It was a simple matter of apparation. The two boys, hand in hand with the red headed Ginger, and then they were gone from that sad room, transported away to a darker, more sinister place. Daemon's Wharf was laid out before them.
Upon arrival, the three remained as they were, though Harry dropping Ginger's hand, Ron clasping onto his tighter. Only the gentle wash of the river and sea beyond could be heard.
"Why..." Ron finally broke the silence. "Why would you come to a place like this?" his meek voice was a bare octave above a whisper.
"Kids..." was her only explanation. "It's said to be haunted," Ginger went on in a similar manner. "Muggles don't come here. It's been like this for years."
"H-haunted..." Ron revealed a hint of fear. "Sounds about right," he managed a weak chuckle.
A sprawling labyrinth of dilapidated warehouses, some boarded up, others missing their windows like an old man sneering without some of his his teeth. Others still had completely collapsed in on themselves. A thick and deep fog rolled through their lanes and narrow allies like a horde of ghosts on the hunt. The only light shed was from the moon and stars above, hindered by the hovering overcast of equally turbid clouds.
"Can't things ever be easy?" Ron complained with a light, exhaling breath.
"Come on," Harry placed a hand on Ginger's shoulder. "I can't see anything from here." In the next instance, they were high above, atop one of the empty warehouses, looking out over the entire grounds and the black waters of the bay beyond.
"Would you give me some warning before you do that?!" Ron queased, settling back down his stomach from the sudden apparation. Ginger did not look too easy herself, but she did not voice any protest. Harry parted them once more to lean out over the edge, taking in the massive complex of so much, and yet nothing.
"But..." Ron stepped up beside him, followed by Ginger. "Now what? This place is huge, they could be anywhere."
It was true. The shells of buildings were countless, strewn out before and around them. Further out and to their right, it opened up to the empty docks, rotting and crumbling wooden piers stretching into the black, foaming waters. Rusted hulls of aged and forgotten ships and boats alike bobbed and pushed up against them with the incoming waves. Out to the left was a solitary jetty, reaching into the fog, a towering, neglected lighthouse rising from the mist at its end. It had been a long while since that lantern had beckoned any towards it.
"No," Harry answered him in time. "They are there," he motioned towards the far distance, a large cargo ship, rusted and worn but still whole, bobbing like the rest of its smaller counterparts in the rolling, dark waters.
It was tied off to a lone platform. Neither Ron nor Ginger questioned him on how he knew this, swallowing heavily as their eyes fell upon it. Its mass and sinister feel radiating off it were daunting - and telling. That all too common silence ensued.
"Well..." Ron eventually spoke up. "I - I guess we should check it out?" he sounded as if he'd like to do anything but.
"We need to get closer," Harry signaled for them to grab hold, before he apparated them to the nearest building leading to these docks. The proximity had Ron and Ginger slouched back away from its haunting form.
"N-now what?" Ron asked as the silence stretched on, Harry studying the massive ship intently. "Do we go down?"
"It's not so simple," Harry grimaced, his eyes staring long and hard upon the scape before them. "The wards are thick: Dissapparation charms, intruder alarms, motion detectors, spell dampeners, sound barriers, anti-muggle jinxes, the list goes on," he ticked them off angrily.
"Harry..." Ginger whisped. "How do you know all this?"
"Doesn't matter," he shook his head.
"Then, how... how do we get in?" Ron mumbled, wishing in part that they couldn't. Ron had barely finished before Harry abruptly grabbed either by the scuff of their necks and yanked them down below the wall that framed about the edge of the roof.
"What?!" Ron hissed. "What is it?!" he had his wand out in a flash. Harry lifted his finger to his lips, calling for silence.
"There," Harry whispered so lightly it barely reached their ears, edging up just enough to point down over the wall. Ron dared a peak, before falling back behind the wall. Ginger mimicked him.
"What?" Ron repeated in the same whisper. "I don't see anything..."
"There's a gate..." Ginger answered him. "Leading down to the docks." Ron screwed his face at this. He hadn't seen any gate, but Harry nodded, confirming Ginger's observation. Ron peaked again.
"Oh, I see it!" he said a little louder now, staring at the broad gate. It was an archway, quite out of place for a place like this. He didn't miss the Runes etched about its face, but before he could notice anything further, Harry had him again, pulling him roughly back down, hissing at him to shush. "What's the big idea, no one is in sight!" Ron protested in a loud whisper. Harry grimaced, shaking his head, repeating his deman for silence.
"Two," Harry mouthed, signaling with two of his fingers. "Disillusioned."
"How do you...?" Ron quirked. "Oh, never mind!" he breathed, exacerbated. "You got a plan?"
Harry sat there, thinking long and hard. "I don't know... we'll have to create a diversion. Without being able to see them... one wrong move and-"
"I've got a plan," Ginger shocked them both. "Harry... I trust you know how to use that thing?" she nodded towards the wand gripped in his fist.
. . . .
Harry stood before the high wall of the of the building, on its far side, away from the docks, looking up towards the sill of its roof. The two guards hadn't heard them arrive when he apparated before - he imagined he was becoming quite deft at it by now, with minimum noise - but he wouldn't be taking any chances, not now.
The mist began to swirl about his feet. He felt himself grow light, and then brick by brick, he ascended the wall, until he glided forward to stand upon the roof the three of them had not left thirty minutes before.
Crouching as to stay low and out of sight, he moved to retrieve the large sack of sand they had already prepared. He dragged it to the far side, just before the gate, where he carefully maneuvered it up unto the ledge, sure to remain unseen.
Readied, he crept towards the corner of the roof, peaking his head up just enough to see down the lane, awaiting the signal.
As desolate as this place seemed, indeed, Ginger had spoken the truth. There were others milled about it, snakes and mice of witches and wizards, a lowly bunch, squatting amongst the empty buildings. Further down, Harry had performed the magic to disguise Ron and Ginger, to make them look as two who belonged here.
He'd turned Ron's Gryffindor and Ginger's green robes into a soiled and stained brown, looking worn and frayed. He's scuffled their hair, disfigured their faces. Ron had even been guileful enough to pick up an empty bottle, filling it with the water of the sea, before transforming it to give it the look of an amber liquor.
Now... now he waited.
. . . .
He heard them before he saw them. "Knock-a one dun, pass-it-a ruhnd!" they played their parts masterfully, singing merrily as they stumbled out from the shadows, leaning on one another, appearing completely sodden.
"Com'on mi'lady, one little kiss!" Harry could see the distant silouhette of Ron pucker up, his lips reaching for Ginger as she pulled away.
"I dun told ya, fifty sickel or ya not so much as gettin' a hand up my skirt!"
"Ah, don' be that way! I'm-a hurtin' here!" their voices echoed off the buildings.
"What's that?" Harry heard another voice to his left, just below. He couldn't see who it belonged to, but he knew they were there all the same.
"Squatters. Get rid of them," a second, invisible voice answered.
"Shouldn't we send back an alarm?"
"Damn you, Vissle! You want to send back an alarm with every gull that lands nearby!"
"Jus' followin' orders!" the first protested.
"Shut it!" the second spat. "They're just rats. Get rid of them."
"Alrigh', alrigh', don't get your knickers in a wad!"
And while he could not see them, Harry could still sense them. He smiled to himself as he felt their auras part, one heading towards Ron and Ginger, the other diligently manning the post. Slinking back towards the sack, he focused his magic upon the roof. It opened for him, and one level after another, he descended back towards the ground floor.
He waited for as long as he dare, allowing the one sent to get rid of the intruders to get as far away as possible before he sent his magic wafting back up the holes he'd left in the levels above, all the way to the large sack of sand. He gave it a slight nudge, tipping it over. A second later, he heard the loud thud of it hitting the ground on the other side of the wall.
Harry's heart beat spiked. This was it. Would the guard take the bait?
At first, nothing... but then, Harry sensed him coming closer to investigate. Slowly. Warily. He was suspicious.
Harry placed his left palm up against the wall, jabbing the tip of his wand with his other right into it. Starting from the center, the wall shivered, waivering like a sail in the breeze as it spread wider and longer. The energy of the other grew closer and closer until he was hovering over the sack.
"What the..?"
"I've got you!"
Harry cast his magic forward, encompassing the wizard, before yanking back hard like hooking a fish. The wizard came flying through the wall, yelping, hurdling into the room as he hit the floor hard, rolling towards the opposite side. Harry hit him with a stunner before the wizard knew what was happening. Quickly binding him, Harry slipped back out the closing portal on the wall, into the lane beyond.
"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen..." Ron finished his count to twenty aloud from seeing the sack drop.
"PULVIS!" Ron swirled his wand, bursting forth a large cloud of white powder. As the dust was cast, the form of a man aiming a wand was revealed at its center. Ron dove for Ginger, knocking her out of the way as the white about them turned to a flash of green.
"Ow!" Ginger cried, pinned between stone and Ron. A second flash of red, and then a thud and crunch of a limp form skidding across the pavement.
"You alright?!" Ron asked frantically, pulling himself up off her to look her over.
"Yes," Ginger grimaced as she picked herself up onto her hands, looking around Ron to see the Disillusionment Charm wearing off the fallen guard. Ron then looked on as well as Harry was already atop him, magically binding him, before dragging the body off into the shadows.
Harry soon returning, the three glanced to each other, each nodding in turn. It had worked. So far, so good, but with a certain air of trepidation to come, they all three in unison looked to the now unguarded gate, only able to guess as to wait laid in store for them there.