Harry Potter and the Triangle Prophecy

Snape shook his head. "We'll find it. It may be unplottable, but we'll find it." His jaw was clenched and his dark eyes had that determined look that Harry knew so well.

He drew his lips into a line. "If I may--perhaps some reconnaissance is necessary? We could come to a full stop and let me fly on, try to determine what our heading should be."

He'd never flown in a sky quite like this before and had to try very hard to resist the temptation to just gawp; he reminded himself that he had a job to do and flew on, higher and higher, trying to get the best vantage point to view the sea below him. The whitecaps were very small and thin at this height, and he hoped he wouldn't have a problem finding his way back to the Patricia. The idea was supposed to be to limit his flying by having the ship nearby.

At length, he found that he could no longer see what was below through a thick block of clouds that seemed to go down and down; he looked to his right and tried to gauge the position of the sun relative to his location. Descending in a tight corkscrew, knowing that he might have to pull up quickly to avoid landing in the ice-cold water, he finally broke through the clouds.

Azkaban.

This is where I took off when I escaped.

His heart was in his throat as he turned to face the doorway carved into rock that led to the corridor containing his cell door. As he remembered, there was no door protecting this corridor, as escape was not considered a possibility, usually, and the dementors had no need to be sheltered from the elements. Harry took out his wand, bracing himself for a different kind of cold--the cold that the dementors sent into his very soul when they drew too near to him. He reminded himself that Ginny had been to see Madam Pomfrey and knew that he could probably conjure a very, very strong Patronus with that particular happy thought. Still, the thought of dementors at all was somewhat unnerving to him. It had been a while. Every step seemed to make his heartbeat double.

Inside, it was dark and quiet; even the sound of the sea breaking violently on the rocks receded into a distant whisper. He found the door to his old cell open, and he stood there, staring at the spartan walls and floor, the hard pallet. He hadn't spent very much time there, but it was where he'd been when he read the letter from his stepfather telling him that Ginny and his sister were dead, and that his remaining brother was mad. It was where he'd been when he'd decided once and for all, whatever it took, that he needed to bring this world back.

He didn't walk all the way into the cell but backed into the corridor again, trying to see into the dim recesses of the prison, which had never been properly lit because dementors were blind and prisoners didn't deserve to see--and didn't care about it either, after enough time in Azkaban. He didn't yet feel the cold of the dementors, but he didn't see any prisoners, either. Or Aurors.

As he passed cell after empty cell, doors swinging open, he found himself with the uncontrollable urge again to sing one of Buttercup's songs, to fill the eerie silence. He finally gave in to the impulse, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

The noise echoed in the stone corridors in a satisfying way, but although there was no obvious and immediate threat to Harry, he knew that that wasn't really a good thing. He stopped smiling as he thought about this. It meant that the dementors were somewhere else, probably wreaking havoc. It meant that the prisoners were all freed, and he didn't think many of them were like him or Sam or Sirius, basically well-intentioned and not really inclined to a life of crime. And what it meant as far as the Aurors were concerned, he didn't know....

"Is someone there?" called a voice when Harry stopped making noise. Harry swallowed, lighting his wand. "Oh, please, has someone come for us?" the man's voice called, ending on a choking sob. Harry tried to follow the voice, but it was difficult, as the stone corridors, magically carved from the solid rock of the island, bounced the sound around in confusing ways.

"Say something again!" Harry shouted down the corridor. "I can't tell where you are!"

The man was simply sobbing now, and that was no help. Also, Harry knew he should get back to the Patricia, so he could bring the others to help. "Who are you?" Harry hollered now. After a half-minute of continued sobbing, the man gathered himself enough to reply.

"James Edmundson. Jim. An Auror," he added, his voice breaking. Harry swallowed.

"My--my dad's name was James," Harry called to him. "Listen--I'm with some other people. Doing reconnaissance. I need to go back so I can help them get here. Don't worry--we're going to get you all back to the mainland."

He hoped he was flying in the right direction, but when it seemed that he should have seen the Patricia again and didn't, he started to panic. Don't panic, don't panic, he instructed himself, trying not to think about the fact that he was in the air high over the North Sea and would need to fly for miles and miles before being able to set down if he had lost track of where the Patricia was.

Finally, to his surprise, he saw a speck moving about in the sky far ahead of him. The speck seemed to be moving in deliberate, if erratic, circles. It was oddly shaped for a bird, and behaving even more oddly for a bird, though as Harry drew closer, he realized that there was a very good reason for all of that.

It wasn't a bird, but Sirius riding in circles on Buckbeak. Harry recognized the hippogriff immediately, and wished he was able to speak in his griffin form. Sirius motioned to him to follow, when he saw him, and he turned Buckbeak so that he was spiraling downward very fast. Harry hesitated for only a moment before doing the same, although he was starting to get very nervous as he saw the sea approaching faster and faster....

Almost before he had a chance to brace himself, he saw the deck of the Patricia coming up at him, and he was able to land with his legs bent, to avoid injury, but only just. His heart was going a mile a minute, and he immediately changed back into his human form, tempted to kiss the scrubbed decking.

"What--what happened--?"

The others were standing about, looking uncertainly at him. Dumbledore stepped forward and gave him a hand, helping him to his feet. "I'm afraid that was my concealment spell, Harry. Or rather, it is a kind of Transfiguration. My specialty. Something I took great care to keep off my Chocolate Frog card is the fact that I am the foremost expert in the world on the Chameleon Transfiguration."

"Chameleon Transfiguration?" Harry said, frowning. "What's that?"

"Transfiguring anything--objects, other people, large ships, even myself--so that they appear to blend in with their surroundings, rendering them invisible, effectively."

Harry dropped his jaw. "That's how you did it! It was Transfiguration!"

"Yes. Not an easy art, the Chameleon Transfiguration. It can be very tricky, especially when casting the spell on oneself and if one is planning to move about in a varied terrain. The spell must be cast to constantly adjust the individual's appearance, in accordance with the setting...."

"So--that's why I couldn't see the ship until I was practically crashing through the deck to the galley?" Harry said, laughing.

Dumbledore nodded, smiling. "I thought it best."

"Well," Harry said, trudging toward a coil of rope and using it for an impromptu stool; "I don't think we need it after all. The only person I made contact with was an Auror. The dementors and prisoners seem to be gone. And the Auror didn't sound quite sane, frankly." He nodded at Snape. "I think we should change our heading, captain, so that we're heading north-by-northwest. We've veered a bit too far east. And it will still be hard to find--it's been shrouded in a white mist. But we should come close, and if we don't seem to be finding it, I can do reconnaissance again."

Snape nodded and barked orders to his uncle and Maggie, who obeyed with a crisp, "Aye, aye, captain," from each of them.

Harry went to stand at the prow, looking down at the solid-looking sea parting on either side of the Patricia's slim hull. Ron and Hermione came to stand on either side of him, Ron helping Hermione to walk across the deck unsteadily, as she didn't have her sea legs yet. His best friends watched silently, giving him their companionship without making any demands. Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder as they gazed out over the sea, the cold salt spray stinging their faces, and Hermione put her head against his shoulder as he put his arm around her. Together, they watched the mountain of mist approach that hid the fortress of Azkaban.

They dropped anchor a short distance away, and Dumbledore stepped forward, his wand drawn again. "Well," he said in a businesslike way, "let us reveal our goal." He pointed his wand at the mist and it slowly dissipated, revealing the rocky shape of Azkaban, rising from the cold sea, huge waves breaking whitely on her eastern and western flanks.

Hermione gasped and Ron's grip on Harry's shoulder tightened painfully. Harry swallowed, remembering approaching it in the small boat with the Aurors who'd accompanied him to prison. He turned, wondering whether Sam was all right, but he saw neither Sam nor Aberforth. He turned to Sirius, standing with Dumbledore, petting Buckbeak's flank with a firm hand.

"Where's Sam?" he asked him.

"He and Aberforth are below," Sirius told him. "I forgot that when you worked for him, he was called Dick. Sam keeps calling him that."

Harry nodded and headed for the companionway; opening the hatch carefully, because of the pitching of the ship, he made his way below, where Sam and Aberforth were sitting at a table, having some tea (or at least, Harry assumed it was tea).

"Oh, Dick, I don't know what I'll do if I lose her--" Sam was choking out. Harry didn't have to guess what he was talking about. He cleared his throat.

"We're here. I already found out that the dementors are gone. The prisoners too. It seems that just the Aurors are left. We're going to start getting them out of there."

Sam regarded him with haunted eyes, and Harry had a glimpse of how he must have looked every minute of the ten years he'd spent in Azkaban. Sam nodded silently, his eyes round and his mouth slack, and Aberforth nodded with his mouth pulled into a grim line.

"Why don't you two stay here until we get back with the first group? It will take a number of trips, probably."

The two men nodded at him again, and this time Aberforth spoke quietly, saying simply, "Thank you, Harry."

The slapping of the sea against the hull was louder in the hold than on deck, and Harry climbed back up quickly, glad to be out of the claustrophobic space. When his family had been on the Patricia in his other life, usually it had been his mother down below in the galley, and the twins, as well, while he and Jamie and his stepfather and Uncle Duncan had been above, concerned with the work of sailing. Harry never liked going below if he could help it; he far preferred it on deck. The summer he was thirteen, he'd even slept on the deck instead of one of the berths below.

Dumbledore reversed the Chameleon Transfiguration on the ship, so that they should have no trouble finding their way back, and Harry soon learned that Buckbeak, as well as three other hippogriffs, had been Transfigured into mice, which Dumbledore had been carrying in his pockets. Harry was more and more of the opinion that there was no magical art more useful than Transfiguration, but he didn't dare say this while his Potions Master was standing nearby. When the other hippogriffs had been restored to their usual selves, the deck was a bit crowded; Ron claimed one, Hermione another, and Dumbledore the third. Snape, his uncle and Maggie would stay to manage the ship and Aberforth would continue to keep Sam company belowdecks, as well as tending to rescued Aurors when they began to pour in.

Harry changed into his griffin form again, taking off and pointing his nose for Azkaban. The four hippogriffs took off right after, flanking him, two on a side. The five magical creatures moved their wings against the cold air, on a mission. Harry landed on the plateau first, then quickly changed and moved out of the way for the others to land. Sirius and Buckbeak could communicate without any trouble; a look was all it took, and Dumbledore said something quietly to the other three that had them standing still and to attention while the five of them entered the corridor to begin the search for the Aurors.

Harry briefly showed them his cell; he could see tears in Ron and Hermione's eyes as they glanced around at the dismal little room; Harry thought it possible that his en suite bath at Ascog Castle was bigger. "I heard a man calling to me, but I couldn't tell where he was. I think we're going to have to check each and every cell in the place."

They agreed, and after lighting their wands, began moving more swiftly through the corridors, finally finding the Auror named James Edmundson at the very end, in the last cell before the winding stair leading down to the next level. He wasn't alone, to Harry's surprise, but with another man who sat in the corner, his knees drawn up to his chest, his eyes staring. Edmundson had trouble standing; Ron pulled him to his feet and Harry clasped his hand.

"Hello, Jim," he said awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say to this man who'd sobbed to him earlier. "I told you I was bringing help."

The man looked like he would have collapsed onto the floor again, were it not for Ron supporting him, as he glanced up at Harry's scar. "But--but you're--you're Harry Potter!" he breathed, incredulous.

Harry smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder. "And you're going home," he said gently, glad he hadn't told the man who he was before; he might very well have thought he was hallucinating if he heard a voice say, "It's Harry Potter here! I've come to get you out!"

Hermione helped the gibbering man in the corner to stand. His eyes had a vacant look that Harry didn't like. Motioning to him with his head, he asked, "Jim--what happened to your friend?"

Jim Edmundson looked even more grim than he already had, which wasn't easy. "Elliott was kissed," he whispered, "and then tossed in here with me."

Harry shook his head; he wished he thought Edmundson could be questioned about what had occurred, but clearly it was too soon. They had to concentrate on getting the Aurors off the island. Sirius and Dumbledore said they were going on, down the stairs, looking for the others. Harry helped Ron get Jim Edmundson back to the plateau, Hermione leading the docile Elliott and trying to explain to him that they were going to ride a hippogriff now. Harry held Ron's steed while Ron helped Edmundson mount him, and Ron climbed up behind without any effort. The animals had been fitted with proper saddles, harnesses and reins, and Ron's mount was worrying at the bit in his mouth. Ron put his feet in the stirrups and picked up the reins now, preparing to take off, while Harry turned to Hermione and her charge so that he could hold their hippogriff for them, as he had for Ron. He was amazed that Hermione hadn't balked at the idea of riding a hippogriff again; she had hated it when she was younger. When she'd mounted hers, back on the ship, he had noticed that her lips were very white and pulled into a thin line.

However, as he turned, Harry saw that Elliott was silently stepping toward the edge of the precipice. Hermione was stroking her hippogriff, whispering reassuringly to it, and Harry didn't realize until it was too late what Elliott was going to do. He simply stepped off into space. Harry gasped, then realized that that was a waste of time; he swiftly changed into a griffin and leaped off the precipice to try to catch him, but it was no good. If it had been a straight drop down to the water, they were high enough that Harry might have reached him in time, but the surface below was hard, unforgiving rock, rising too quickly, and when Harry reached him and turned him over, Elliott was staring lifelessly up at the winter sky, his neck broken. Harry flew back up to the precipice where Hermione was standing, looking down in horror. When he had changed back to his human form, he took her in his arms, pulling her away from the edge, his own eyes stinging.

"It's no good, Hermione," he whispered to her, feeling her entire body trembling. He knew how impotent she felt, because he felt that way too, just standing there stupidly while a man leapt to his death. "We'll have to take care of retrieving the dead at the end. Our first concern should be for the living," he said softly. She looked at him, her dark eyes full of tears, nodding, knowing he was right. He knew what it was to feel responsible for someone else dying, and he ached to see that she knew what this was like now, too, although he knew, rationally, that it wasn't her fault, that after Elliott had received the dementor's kiss he was already dead, in a way, although his body lived yet. Elliott had simply finished the job the dementors had started.

She looked up at him with glistening eyes. "It's just like Maggie said..." she whispered.

"What?"

"The Prophecy. The one she gave at the lighthouse museum. Ron and I were talking about it while you were off trying to find this place..."

"Ah. I see. What part do you mean?"

"Insensate voids still others be," she whispered, looking over her shoulder in the direction Elliot had gone. Harry put his arm around her shoulder protectively, before she could go diving off the cliff herself. He looked up at Ron, who looked stricken, clearly wanting to comfort Hermione himself, but he knew he had a job to do as well. He nodded at Harry and took off with Edmundson, the hippogriff's wings creating a strong breeze, moving Harry's and Hermione's clothes as though a gale were starting up. Harry managed to get Hermione's mount to calm again; when she had reacted to Elliott jumping, the nervous creature had picked up on her agitation and had started stamping and snorting. It finally seemed that they could leave him, and Harry took Hermione's hand and led her back into the prison. She came, reluctantly, turning her head to look at the edge of the rock, where Elliott had been only a few minutes before.

That's two, Harry thought. He wondered how many more Aurors had been kissed. He hated to think what Mrs. Weasley would do if one of them was Percy....

He and Hermione found Dumbledore and Sirius on the level below, where there were more than a dozen more Aurors, most of them all right, although they were dehydrated and hadn't eaten in days. Three more of these Aurors had been kissed, two men and one woman, and Harry warned Sirius, "Stun them. We can use the dinghy to get them back, instead of the hippogriffs. We had one upstairs who--who stepped off the cliff..." he choked out, the guilt washing over him again.

Sirius looked horrified, but said, "We'll retrieve the dead later," just as Harry had told Hermione.

Ron had already returned by the time the four of them had helped the Aurors they'd found climb back to the plateau with the hippogriffs. Each of them took one passenger with them, except for Harry, who was his own steed, and so took the two most alert-looking Aurors, both of them clinging to his mane, legs gripping his body, as he took off and beat his wings with all the effort he could muster, moving back toward the Patricia.

That's eight, Harry thought when they'd all set down on the deck. Sam had something to do now, taking care of the returned Aurors, who were all led down the companionway. Aberforth took over Ron's hippogriff while Harry helped Ron lower the dinghy into the water again, so he could put his werewolf strength to good use and row to the grotto, bringing back some more people that way.

They were able to bring back nine back on the next trip, as Ron could take three passengers in the dinghy (five people made it ride too low in the choppy water) and nine again after that. They'd retrieved slightly more than one third of the Aurors who'd gone missing, and Harry wanted nothing more than to go to sleep for a month. His body ached all over from doing the Animagus Transfiguration repeatedly and then from the flying, as well. He was also unaccustomed to carrying two passengers at once, both of them adults. As the rescue work continued, Harry understood why they'd remained in the cells--not one of them had a wand. All of the imprisoned Aurors had been disarmed and their wands were nowhere to be found.

After they'd brought back over fifty Aurors, ten of them people who'd been kissed (Ron had had to stun them and bring them back in the dinghy, then carry each up the ladder, slung over his shoulder), Harry, Ron and Hermione unlocked another cell, on one of the middle levels that they'd just reached going down (Ron had been working his way up from the grotto, so they were reaching the middle levels last).

Harry's heart leapt into his throat; there they were, curled up together on the floor, her head on his chest, his arms around her. They looked very peaceful together; he could see that their chests were rising and falling with their breathing. Suddenly, he looked up, seeming very alert, especially compared to many of the others they'd rescued. His blue eyes were the same as Ron's, even behind the spectacles, which had one broken lens.

"Ron!" Percy Weasley cried in disbelief. He shook Katie awake, and she opened her eyes slowly, blinking and rubbing them when she saw the three of them standing there, as though afraid that she was dreaming. Hermione stepped forward and helped her to stand, pulling her into an embrace.

"Oh, you're all right!" she said tearfully; Harry had thought that Hermione wasn't especially fond of Katie after he'd started seeing her during the previous summer, but clearly she was over that now. Ron put out a hand and helped Percy to stand; he looked a little uncertain on his feet as his younger brother embraced him.

Ron grinned at Percy. "Good thing we found you, too. Mum told me not to show my face at home again if I didn't bring you back."

Percy dropped his jaw. "She didn't!"

"No, she didn't," Ron admitted. "But I felt like I wouldn't be able to show my face, you know?" He gave his older brother a lopsided grin and Percy gave him a small smile in return.

Even though he didn't know where they were, Harry was glad for a moment that the dementors were gone, as they couldn't take away the relief and happiness he felt at finding them alive and unharmed. "Good to see you, Perce," he said, meaning it, and hugging him quickly.

"Good to see you too, Harry," Percy answered with a nod. Harry turned to Katie then. Hermione stepped back without a word and Harry took her in his arms, holding her tightly, thinking of what a comfort she was to him the previous summer.

"And you--you may not be my girlfriend anymore, but--"

"I know," she whispered into his neck. She pulled back from him a little. "I don't know when I've been gladder to see anyone in my life."

"Your dad's here, too," he told her quietly. She covered her mouth in horror.

"Here, as in here?"

"No--back on the ship, waiting for you."

"Ship?"

Hermione explained about the Patricia while Percy told Harry and Ron about how the operation they'd been involved in (taking the twenty-five Death Eaters involved in the Gringotts siege to Azkaban) had gone very wrong. Apparently, Death Eaters who had not been involved in Gringotts had landed on the upper levels of the fortress, flying Swedish Short-Snout dragons, having fitted muzzles over the dragons' mouths and noses to contain the flames. They'd also fitted the enormous beasts with cars that hung below their bodies, so that the dragons were like dirigibles with wings, their passengers flying below instead of above, except for two wizards on each dragon who were doing the driving, as it were. They'd brought ten dragons to the island; five were to take the prisoners away, to a place where they would have the opportunity to throw in their lot with Voldemort; four were to take the dementors, who would probably work for Voldemort with no prompting whatsoever, and one was for the Death Eaters who had come to liberate the prison.

Katie walked to the corridor and looked up and down it. "What level are we on?" she wanted to know.

"Seventh level down," Hermione told her. Katie nodded. "All right. We need to go down two more."

"We--what?" Ron said, baffled. "I've already done that level." But Harry had a feeling he knew what was going on; he shook his head at Ron and took Katie's hand, putting it in Percy's. He put his hand on her shoulder and nodded.

"Let's go," he said simply.

When they were in the corridor two levels down, Katie started counting under her breath, lightly touching each door as they walked slowly away from the stairs. When she reached the eleventh cell on the right, she stopped and pushed the unlocked door open. She walked to the middle of the cell, turning all around. She looked at Harry. "Do you know where we are, Harry?" He shook his head, because technically it was true, but he had a feeling that he did know. It was a slightly larger cell than the one he'd had, because it was meant to be shared; there were two bunk beds with mere wooden planks in lieu of mattresses, showing that it had held four people before the 'liberation.' "This was where he lived for ten years," she said softly, going to a wall under a high, barred window. "See this? It's how he kept track of time."

Etched into the wall so lightly that he had to light his wand to see it were small grids which clearly formed a calendar. Twelv-month cycles, repeated over and over. In December of each year, a day toward the middle of the month was marked, extra deep, and next to it was etched, over and over, Katie, Katie, Katie. Harry swallowed.

"Your birthday," Harry said, to which she nodded. "You're what kept him going," he whispered to her.

She shook her head. "Not exactly. He told me about that once. The thing that kept him going, day after day, waiting for the time he would be released, was the thought that I was growing up without him. Which wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't take it away from him." Harry remembered that Sirius had been able to keep his memory of being innocent because that wasn't a happy thought, either. They all stared at the makeshift calendar silently, and Harry imagined Sam, year after year, etching the grids and numbers into the wall with whatever small, jagged rock he'd been able to find. He'd certainly had nothing else to do in this place.

Percy broke the silence. "For what it's worth, at least Katie and I ended up together," he said, moving to put his arm around her. She blushed, returning his embrace. Percy looked at the three of them. "I hope the three of you won't be embarrassed by this, but I didn't want to do this until--or if--we were rescued. When we didn't have any hope of that--it didn't seem like the right thing to do. And now--I feel like I'll explode if I wait any longer--"

They frowned, as Percy smiled lovingly at Katie and then slowly went down on one knee before her, causing both her and Hermione to cover their mouths with their hands.

"Katie Bell, I love you with all my heart and all my soul, and I was prepared to die with you here in Azkaban. I thought that nothing could be more fitting than to die in your arms, and with you in mine. Now, instead, we have the chance to live in each others' embrace. Would you do me the very great honor of doing that with me, always? Katie Bell, will you marry me?"

Percy's old-fashioned courtly words sounded both odd and just right, and after a moment of shock, Katie broke into tears and went down on her knees with him, throwing her arms around his neck and crying, "Yes, I'll marry you, Percy Weasley!" Hermione's eyes were streaming and she suddenly threw her arms around Ron, who staggered for a moment under her assault, turning deep red, reminding Harry of their third year. Harry just grinned at the embracing pair, on their knees still, and found that he couldn't prevent the laughter bubbling up from inside of him; he hadn't seen it coming at all, and it was the best, the most appropriate thing he could imagine.

His laughter proved infectious, and the others joined him, Percy and Katie getting to their feet again, while Harry kissed her on both cheeks, grinning. "You make every other man in the world look bad, you know, being able to come up with speeches like that, with no planning," he told Percy, laughing.

Ron agreed. "Too right," he said, earning him a playful smack on the arm from Hermione.

"No planning!" Percy said, rolling his eyes. "I've been rehearsing that in my head since we were locked up!"

"Yes," said Ron, with a perfectly straight face. "Because you certainly didn't have anything else you could do, locked in a cell with your girlfriend..."

Katie and Percy both turned deep red. "I thought about what to say when she was asleep," Percy mumbled, turning even redder, making Katie laugh.

"And I seem to be making a habit of losing my old girlfriends to Weasleys," Harry added, making Katie laugh even harder. There was another round of back slapping and hugs, and then the five of them went down to the grotto, where Ron had tied up the dinghy, and Harry waved goodbye to them, feeling that something good could come out of this after all. Ron's strong arms moved the oars swiftly, and they disappeared down the winding passage, heading back to the Patricia.

As he left, Ron called to Harry, "Find out where that ticking is coming from!"

Harry frowned. "Ticking?" he called back.

"Yeah. I hear ticking. Down here somewhere. Might be someone with a watch. Someone we've missed. Take a look around."

Harry went up to the nearest level where the hippogriffs were tethered, looking for Dumbledore, Aberforth or Sirius. He found Sirius about to take off with another kissed Auror lying across the saddle before him, stunned, and Dumbledore helping to hold the animal still until Sirius was firmly in his seat.

"What is it, Harry?" the headmaster said to him after seeing his face.

"Well, some good news--we found Percy and Katie." He decided to leave it at that for the moment, so that the couple could announce their own engagement, once they were all back on deck. "Ron's rowing them and Hermione back to the ship. But he said he heard ticking down in the grotto. His ears are better than mine. I could use some help figuring out what that is. He thought it might be a watch. I thought--since we haven't found the dead Aurors yet--" they were missing about a dozen Aurors still "--we might check to see whether they're down in the grotto. Someone who was wearing a watch before being killed might be responsible for the ticking noise."

Dumbledore nodded and stepped back from Sirius, whose steed ran forward, spreading his wings and taking to the sky. Aberforth had already left for the ship, and the two remaining hippogriffs stood waiting patiently. One of them had been Hermione's, but Harry reckoned he could fly it back himself, since she'd already left.

Wordlessly, Dumbledore turned toward Harry and together, they went back down the winding stairs to the dank grotto. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry started to speak, but Dumbledore stilled him, putting his hand on his arm. Harry watched him close his eyes and tilt his head, listening. When he opened his eyes again, he motioned with his head.

"This way. Mr. Weasley was right. Ticking."

Harry wondered how on earth Dumbledore had heard anything above the sound of water on stone, echoing noisily in the cave and punctuated by very loud dripping sounds. They walked deep into the grotto, the passage winding so that they could no longer see the bottom of the stairs or the entrance to the cave. They walked with their wands lit, held high, and at length, Harry finally started hearing the ticking, too. They turned a corner and found--the dead Aurors. Bodies had been piled there, tossed willy-nilly, with a disrespect that made bile rise to Harry's throat.

With them, they also found something else.

It appeared to be a trunk, but it had been partially sunk into the sand at the water's edge, and embedded in the top was a small clock, which was the origin of the ticking. At least, Harry thought it was a clock. It bore only suns, moons and planets on its twelve hands. Harry felt like he'd seen something like it before, but he couldn't remember where. Dumbledore however, clearly knew what it was, and Harry had never liked an expression less than the one he saw on the headmaster's face now.

"We should leave this place," Dumbledore said, his voice very soft as he looked intently at the trunk. "Now."

"But," Harry began, "the bodies....their families..."

But Dumbledore was already striding away. "Unfortunately, that will not be possible," he called over his shoulder as Harry sped up to stay with him; he had never realized that Dumbledore could move so quickly. When they were again near the mouth of the grotto, they discovered that Ron had already been able to return in the dinghy.

"So," he began, "did you find the bodies?"

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "We found them. Unfortunately, we will not be able to retrieve them, as there was something else, as well."

Ron frowned. "What?"

"A bomb," Dumbledore said simply, climbing into the dinghy, arranging his robes around him.

"A bomb!" Ron said in shock.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, a bomb. A magical incendiary device. I now believe that the ultimate goal of this--enterprise--was to destroy Azkaban forever, with the captured Aurors trapped here, which is why they didn't risk their own lives to kill more of our people. I believe that it was put on a clock in hopes that rescuers might come and also be killed at the same time. We have retrieved the living. Unfortunately, we shall not be able to do the same for the dead. It is necessary to make haste. There is no telling what effect the device will have on the spells that have been placed on the fortress." Then he lifted his head, as though he was listening intently, and Harry wondered whether it was already too late, and the bomb was about to go off.

"Bloody hell!" he spat, the first time Harry could remember hearing him swear. "Do you hear that Mr. Weasley?"

Ron nodded ruefully. "Yeah. Come on, Harry," he said, moving toward the stairs again.

"What? Why? I thought we had to go?" Harry was confused, but followed anyway.

"There's someone up here, crying," Ron said shortly, and Harry wondered again how, at his age, Dumbledore could have hearing comparable to Ron's, when most younger people--like him--couldn't hear what Ron could. Perhaps he put a spell on himself before coming, Harry thought.

"Thought I'd cleared out all of these cells," Ron said, following the sound. "I know that before I moved up to the next level, I didn't smell anyone else here." Finally, Harry could hear it too. But he was shocked when he saw who it was.

"Cho!"

She sat in a corner of a cell, looking up at him blankly, her dark eyes empty. He wondered whether she'd been kissed by a dementor, but perhaps only a little kiss. A part of her seemed to be gone. When did she become an Auror? he wondered. He really didn't know the first thing about what she'd been up to since the end of his sixth year, when he'd managed to contribute to the death of yet another boyfriend of hers. It seemed that she couldn't stand, but when Ron tried to pick her up, she clung to the leg of a pallet, her grip surprisingly strong. Harry tried to pry her fingers from it, but she just stared at him with wild eyes and continued to hold on.

Finally, Ron got her fingers loose and picked her up easily, as she was so small. The three of them returned to the grotto. Harry looked at his best friend. "Listen--Ron, you row yourself and Dumbledore out of here. Sir," he said to the headmaster, "I'll change to my griffin form, and if you could lash her on securely so she can't fall, I can fly us back to the ship. That way the dinghy will be a little lighter and move faster."

Dumbledore nodded, and when Harry changed into his griffin form, he heard her gasp, despite her otherwise half-witted state. Dumbledore conjured cords to lash her to Harry, then climbed back into the dinghy, which Ron started rowing with lightening speed. Harry ran back up the stairs with her still lashed to him, so they could take off with the advantage of height.

Just as he was approaching the edge of the lowest cliff, he felt the ground beneath him start to shake; he heard a low rumbling and turned, looking up. The walls of the fortress were vibrating very quickly, so that it appeared his vision was blurred, and the hippogriffs that had been left on the upper precipice took off in fright, crying out with those strange noises they made, not neighs and not birds' calls. Cords of green and red light crackled in jagged patterns over the rocks and the fortress walls, and Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said. The bomb must be disrupting the security spells, he thought, as the red and green light started to become blindingly bright. Large chunks of rock started to fall from the fortress walls, and he turned to take flight. The shaking and rumbling from the depths of the fortress were growing by the moment. He was launched into the air rather sooner than he'd planned to be as the rock on which he was standing broke away along a line of green light that crackled across it. As he fell, he moved his wings, rising into the air again, hoping they could get clear quickly. He had no thought for anything but flying as fast as he could, and he wished that the Patricia was moored farther away, as he worried now about what flying debris could do to her.

He continued to move his wings as quickly as he could, and then he saw that the Patricia was in danger; the anchor was still down, and the enormous waves that were sweeping across the surface of the deep, because of the tremors emanating from Azkaban, were making her rise up so high that, pulled down by the anchor, she was lying almost on her side, the masts practically horizontal. Harry saw dozens of people on the deck grabbing onto whatever they could to avoid being pitched overboard into that suddenly violent, already near-freezing sea, but he was also quite certain that he heard more than one splash, followed by screaming.

Huge chunks of debris were flying through the air now, smashing into the mizzenmast, and going right through the mainsail when she was almost righted again; more projectiles tangled in the rigging, and Harry realized that he could no longer see Ron and Dumbledore in the choppy waves. It took him a few agonizing minutes to find the dinghy, floating upside down in the turbulent waters, and he wanted to cry out, Noooo!

But then a further search revealed a very wet Ron swimming back toward the dinghy with one arm, while his other arm supported Dumbledore, now missing his hat and looking rather bedraggled. They managed to reach the upturned dinghy and hold on, but the subsequent waves from the disintegrating prison created swells that lifted the tiny wooden craft up over and over, while they clung to it tenaciously. Harry had to dodge flying debris and try to work out how to set Cho down on the Patricia so he could help Ron and Dumbledore.

Snape had had someone weigh anchor, so that she wouldn't list so violently again, riding the swells instead, but then Harry saw the enormous gash in her side and his heart almost broke. Our beautiful ship, he thought tragically, not caring that technically she wasn't his. He saw Severus Snape at his post, valiantly trying to steer her away from the bombed island prison, without a mizzenmast, and with a mainsail that might as well have not been there for all the wind it held now. There were more than a few people bobbing in the cold water, crying out to be rescued, but the ship was being moved farther and farther away from them by the moment. Harry had a horrifying thought that they might have rescued some of the Aurors only to cause them to die by drowning, or by freezing in the North Sea.

Harry took a chance and carefully set Cho Chang down on a rare clear piece of deck near Snape, then changed back to his human form so he could ask for help getting her separated from him. Maggie ran to help, and as soon as he was free, he didn't take time for talk but changed again, leaping into the air once more, circling overhead, looking for Ron and Dumbledore. He had to fly farther back to find them than he would have liked, but when he reached them, he found to his relief that they hadn't lost hold of the dinghy, although the swells were huge yet and debris was still falling.

He descended and landed on the dinghy itself, feeling it sink into the water a little when he did this. Wave after wave was hitting him, making his wings heavy with salt water. He wished he could talk, and hoped that Ron and Dumbledore would figure out what he wanted them to do. Ron managed to climb onto the upturned dinghy and dragged Dumbledore up with him, helping him onto Harry's back, then climbing on himself just as the dinghy sank beneath their combined weight; Harry shivered as his legs sank into the frigid sea, and did his best to move his waterlogged wings, trying to gain height and get away from the water. A huge wave was swelling again, sending the dinghy flying. It was smashed violently to pieces on a sharp rock thrusting up through the black water, and soon nothing but overlarge splinters were floating in the froth, the only remnants of the craft that had been Ron and Dumbledore's escape from Azkaban.

At last, they were in sight of the Patricia again, which was quite some distance from Azkaban now, despite the damage she'd suffered. The sea was still quite violent and the current had been altered by the force of the bomb and the fortress shivering itself to pieces; Harry judged that it was pushing them due south, away from the former prison. He set Ron and Dumbledore down on the deck, then collapsed and became human again, hoping he might find the strength to change into his griffin form again to try to rescue the other people who had fallen overboard.

Hermione stumbled across the deck, still awkward; she fell on Ron, then Harry, hugging and kissing them both in relief, while Aberforth helped his brother to stand, his arm around his shoulders solicitously. Harry couldn't muster the strength to stand, so he stayed where he was, sitting on the deck, trying to get his breath. "Have to go," he panted. "They--went--overboard--"

"No, Harry!" Hermione cried above the noise of the crashing waves. "You rest! Sirius went on Buckbeak to try to get them. I think they're going to be all right. He's throwing lines to anyone whose head is above water and towing them back." Harry heaved a sigh of relief, feeling for once like the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders.

Cho Chang was sitting nearby, her eyes blank and staring again, and Harry crawled to her, trying to get her to respond in some way. "Cho! Cho! Please answer me!" he cried, taking her hands in his, feeling like an utter failure despite their having rescued so many people--even Aurors who'd been kissed. He shook all over. He'd always felt Cho was his failure; the fact that he'd contributed to Cedric's death and then Viktor's (after doing his best to get her and Viktor to fall in love, no less) ate at him, and he wondered now whether it was his fault that she had become an Auror, which had led to her current state. "I didn't know you'd become an Auror, Cho," he said softly. "I--I can't picture you doing that. It just seems unlike you--"

"That's because she's not an Auror," said a harsh voice nearby. Harry looked up to see Percy and Katie standing there, arms around each other as though they were never going to be parted again. "She didn't come with us, taking the Death Eaters to the prison. She came with them," Percy said, sending an icy glare at Cho Chang.

Harry gasped; she'd been with the Death Eaters! He didn't know whether she'd joined them before Viktor had died (perhaps she hadn't really been on their side in the fight in the Forbidden Forest?) or after. She still looked at him with vacant eyes. Well, he thought, being with the Death Eaters didn't protect her from the dementors. The other Death Eaters had evidently abandoned her when they realized that she was damaged enough that she would no longer be any good to Voldemort.

He pulled her left arm toward him and pushed her sleeve up past her elbow. There, on the inside of her forearm, was the Dark Mark. He looked up at her empty eyes, feeling like this was all his fault. "I'm sorry, Cho. So sorry--"

Ron pulled him to his feet, giving her a look of contempt. "Don't waste your time with her, Harry. Snape needs you." Harry looked at him, stricken. Could no one understand that he felt responsible for her? He looked down at her small huddled figure, rocking herself as she stared into the distance.

As he walked unsteadily toward Snape, Harry heard a cry go up, and he turned momentarily, seeing Sirius land Buckbeak on the aft deck, while a dozen Aurors ran to the rail to help their comrades back up onto the ship. Harry grabbed a bulkhead to keep from falling, as the Patricia was still pitching quite violently. He had good sea-legs, but even he was having trouble staying upright in these choppy waters. Now that the rolling was so violent, Hermione was only able to walk by clutching onto parts of the ship which did not move. (She discovered the hard way that a coil of rope isn't necessarily a good thing to hold onto if it isn't actually coiled around something.) Ron was relativel steady on his feet, so she usually simply held onto Ron to keep from falling.

Harry reported to Snape, who explained what he needed; Harry and Maggie were the youngest on the crew and would climb the masts to remove the sails, which had just been bent at the end of the previous summer, so they were almost new. Snape wanted them stowed below. "We can't afford for them to take any more damage. Repairing them, even with magic, is going to be quite the job. A wind is kicking up, and the swells are bad enough already. We don't need to be blown onto the shoals. The ship's too heavy with all of these people on it, she's already riding far lower than is safe. My uncle has repaired the hull and the fo'csle and is manning the pump for any other water we might take on. Think I can have Weasley collect the sails after you throw them down?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Harry told him. "And we should have Hermione, Sirius and Dumbledore transfigure the stunned Aurors. It won't matter to them if they're small animals. That will help with the weight," Harry said. "Maggie and I will take care of the sails." He turned to Ron. "You catch them when we throw them down, and the Captain will tell you how to fold them up."

Maggie had been standing nearby and said, "Aye, Captain," to Snape, quite smartly, as though she wasn't in the habit of sitting on his lap in his office. Harry admired the way she scrambled up a mast like a young boy, and then turned to his own work. It came back to him as though no time had passed at all, pulling himself up, minding the sway of the mast on which he perched. He watched the people on the deck continue to pull the rescued Aurors back onto the ship, while Snape yelled irritably at Sirius, "Get them below before they go overboard again! And we need your help to lighten the load!" He called for Hermione and Sirius to do as Harry suggested, Transfiguring the stunned Aurors into small animals. As his cold fingers struggled with the ropes, Harry thought he heard Dumbledore offer to help with that as well. Snape, he suspected, had not felt comfortable about the idea of ordering the headmaster to do anything.

Then, as Harry threw the topsail down to Ron, something made him look up. His eyes were drawn to the north, where Azkaban was a smallish lump on the horizon now. Suddenly, what was left of the fortress was blown high into the air, the island breaking up into a multitude of fragments, still crackling with red and green light, and when the air had cleared, a green shape as huge as the former fortress itself was hovering in the air over where it had been, and Harry could see very clearly the shape of it: an enormous skull, with a long snake instead of a tongue protruding from the mouth.

The Dark Mark.

Harry swallowed, shivering as he thought of the bodies of the dead Aurors that would never be retrieved, and thinking also of the fact that if they'd taken even a little while longer to get there, they would have found that gruesome mark in the sky over the former location of the prison and nothing else--no Aurors, living, dead or kissed. Nothing and no one.

Azkaban was no more.

But even as he continued to watch the fragments of rock rain down into the sea, Harry realized suddenly what would follow that last great cataclysm which had utterly shattered the fortress.

"Batten down the hatches!" he cried to Snape. "We're going to have to ride out another big one!"

He saw now that Snape had been watching the final blow to Azkaban as well, through his Omnioculars. He slowly lowered the instrument from his face, looking grim, and ordered everyone belowdecks with far more urgency than before; Sirius and Duncan had already been sending people below. Ron was still on deck because he was stowing the sails Harry and Maggie were throwing down, but when he was done he dashed for the hatch, looking up at Harry for a moment and nodding; he was the last one belowdecks. There wasn't time for Harry and Maggie to get down from their perches. Snape quickly took out his wand and produced ropes with it to lash himself to the tiller. The cold salt spray had completely soaked him now, and his hair clung wetly to his head, making his hawkish nose appear even more prominent. He put his wand away and stood at his post with his feet braced, trying to keep their suddenly fragile-seeming craft on a steady course as far as that was possible. Harry took out his wand briefly too, also conjuring cords to bind him to the mast, and he saw Maggie do the same.

He looked up and saw the enormous wave bearing down on them, larger than any they'd yet seen from the previous explosions. Ginny, he thought. I love you. Never forget that. It seemed so unfair that, after everything he'd been through, he might die at sea, especially after all of the careful training he'd received when he was young, in his other life. He had also, however, been told repeatedly that the sea didn't play favorites, nor only kill inexperienced sailors. When a ship went down, both old salts and those who didn't yet have their sea legs died.

But the Firth of Clyde had never been like this, and now he thought of the poor Muggle fishermen in their trawlers, who might also find their final resting places in the watery deep because of the destruction of Azkaban. The thought made him choke with anger and grief, tears running down his cold face. Despite the magical cords already binding him to the mast, he wrapped his arms around it, silently telling the Patricia how much he loved her and had missed her, tears running down his face. The wave kept coming and coming. Harry's stomach turned over as he anticipated the impact, and yet still he didn't expect it when it came. It took his breath away, the strength of it, the effect of that monstrous force on a mere piece of timber. Creaking in protest, the Patricia tilted up and up until she was almost standing on her beams; when Harry looked up, there was the bow, moving inexorably forward, it seemed. He swallowed, clinging tightly to the almost-horizontal mast, both hoping the bindings held and wondering if it was the best idea now to be lashed to the mast, as he waited for the deck to tilt more, to be over his head, waited to be plunged into the merciless sea, tied to a mast pointing down into the churning water.

But just when it seemed that the deck was pointing straight up to the heavens, it began to go down again; the Patricia rode on the crest of the wave, up and over, and when she smashed down on the far side, with a report like a thousand simultaneous gunshots, Harry felt the entire ship shudder with the impact as though she might break into a million pieces.

He swallowed, then heaved a sigh of relief, but it was too soon; another wave almost as large as the first lifted up the Patricia, but this time she didn't point quite straight up before riding up and over the wave. The impact when she landed on the far side of that watery hill felt no less earth-shattering (or ship-shattering) than the previous one, however, and Harry started to wonder whether after a few more waves like that Patricia would be smashing herself to bits.

Wave after wave came, more like the second than the first, but every time, Harry was certain she was going to split her hull in two. At last, he noticed that when a wave picked her up, she was listing a little less, and even landing less violently afterward. They'd ridden out the worst of the waves caused by the bomb. It wasn't smooth sailing yet, but it probably would be soon.

Harry wasn't certain how long he'd been perched on the mast; he untied himself now with shaking, numb fingers; the ropes he'd conjured had rubbed him raw, even through his clothes, and when he reached the deck, he lifted up his jersey and found that he had a deep red welt around his middle.

But there was no time for that now. They unbattened the hatches and people started pouring onto the deck again; Hermione and Ron were among the first on deck; they launched themselves at Harry and threw their arms around him. Everything was happening very quickly, but Harry could have sworn that both of them kissed him on the cheeks, and Hermione was weeping.

Finally, he gasped, "I can't breathe," from under their crushing embrace; he didn't want to tell them that they were touching the huge welt under his jersey and making it far more painful than it would have been otherwise. They both backed up from him; Hermione was laughing slightly hysterically.

"I--we thought--kept going up--" she sputtered, looking green, then ran for the rail and spewed up whatever was left in her stomach. Harry and Ron followed her, both rubbing her back sympathetically until she was just clutching at the rail, trying to get her breath. She turned around, leaning gratefully on them both, Ron's arm around her. She was a rather ghastly shade of yellow now.

They looked up to see Maggie finally jumping down from her mast, after having extricated herself. She had a desperate look, pushing her way through the throng that was trying to spill onto the deck now, many of the Aurors running to do what Hermione had just done, the collective sound of retching threatening to make Harry follow suit; he tried to put it out of his mind.

They saw that Maggie had finally reached her goal, throwing her arms around Severus Snape and kissing his face all over. Harry expected Snape to be deeply embarrassed, as when he and Ginny had surprised the two of them in his office, but instead, he looked as desperate as Maggie, his arms tight around her. He did not hesitate for a moment, clearly not caring who might be watching, holding her face up to his and claiming her mouth. Harry felt a smile creep across his face, but then he thought of Ron, and turned to see whether he was going to have a fit. To say that Snape seemed to be glad that she was all right would have been putting it lightly.

To Harry's surprise, Ron was simply gawping at them, his mouth open. He seemed to feel Harry's eyes on him, though, because he turned and met his best friend's gaze, snapping his mouth shut and looking a bit sheepish.

"Is--is that how it looked to you when you saw him kissing your mum?" Ron said, his voice so soft it was a strain for Harry to hear him above the pounding of the waves and the commotion on the deck from the other people. Harry wasn't used to the Patricia being so crowded.

"Erm, well--"

Hermione laughed, starting to get some pink into her cheeks again. "He wouldn't know. He refused to look when we were in Snape's Pensieve. I thought he was going to spew."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "I saw my mum and dad kissing plenty in my other life. Well," he amended, remembering the rift between them that had been filled by Sirius; "when I was younger...."

When Harry saw that Snape and Maggie had ended their kiss, he strode over to them and stood, grinning.

"You brought us through, Captain," he said with a nod.

Snape had never seemed more like his dad as he said, "Don't be a prat, Harry." To his surprise, Snape pulled him into a quick embrace before backing up again. Harry looked at him in amazement.

Then Maggie turned to him, practically jumping up and down with glee. "We did it!" she crowed, also hugging him. After being released, he backed up from her, wincing; they were holding hands now as Snape kept his other hand on the tiller, continuing to keep the course steady, in spite of the rough waves still pushing them south from the former wizarding prison. Cold spray blew over the rail and Harry shivered, pulling his jacket around himself protectively, wincing again as a twinge of pain went through him.

"Everything all right, Harry?" Snape asked, frowning. He nodded at Harry's middle. "Show me."

Harry reluctantly opened the jacked and lifted his jersey, feeling the fabric stick momentarily to a couple of places where there was blood on the surface. He winced again.

"Oh my god, Harry!" Maggie said in horror.

He dropped his jersey again. "I'll be fine," he said through gritted teeth. He looked up at the bare masts. "Right now I'd say we could use some sails." He looked at Snape, who nodded at him. Ron and Hermione helped them take out the stowed sails again and soon Harry and Maggie were scrambling up and down the masts. When the wind filled the repaired mainsail and the Patricia could sail under her own power again, instead of being buffeted about by the sea, Harry felt like the world had almost been set to rights. His middle hurting a bit less now, he leaned on the rail, watching the wake of the ship disappear into the frothy waves. Suddenly, Ron and Hermione appeared at his side.

"We want to talk to you, Harry," Ron whispered urgently. "When you were flying off to find Azkaban--"

"--we were thinking about Maggie's new prophecy," finished Hermione. "And now that we've been there, it seems pretty clear what it all meant."

"Right," Ron agreed as Harry turned to look at them, waiting to hear what they had to say.

"Well?" he prompted them.

Hermione withdrew from her pocket the parchment on which Snape had caused the words of the prophecy to appear. "Well, starting at the top--that's all pretty clear. Seekers of the Warriors of Light / Be warned, for sorrow lies ahead..."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Hard to argue with that."

She continued, "Some are bound by walls of might, / Others dwell now with the dead."

"Right," Ron said. "Percy and Katie and others were locked up, and others were killed."

Hermione hesitated, then read with a catch in her voice, "Present in body, not in mind, / Insensate voids still others be..."

Harry nodded grimly. "The ones who were kissed." The other two also nodded, silently agreeing.

"But this was where we were baffled before going: A new world's vanguard shall you find / Within the fortress on the sea. I thought it meant that we were letting you fly right into danger!" she said, her voice squeaking. "I thought--Voldemort's vanguard! That can't be good!"

"And then you came back," Ron added, "saying that they seemed to be gone...so that clearly wasn't it."

Harry turned back to the sea, thinking, watching the hypnotic patterns of the waves. "Read the rest," he said quietly, almost in a trance.

"The Hopeless Ones shall walk the earth / And Happiness this world shall flee / Until the Lion finds their berth / When Night and Day must needs agree."

Harry stared at the waves some more, finally saying, "The Hopeless Ones are the Dementors. That's why Happiness will flee, because they'll be wandering around, kissing people... And the vanguard..." A thought suddenly popped into his mind. He turned and faced the two of them. "The kissed Aurors are the vanguard," he said, suddenly sure of this.

"What?" Ron said, frowning.

But Hermione could also see what Harry meant now. "Oh! They're the vanguard because they're--they're what's coming. More people kissed by dementors. And--and--" she seemed at a loss for how to continue the thought.

"--and people in that state might as well be working for Voldemort," Ron finished in a whisper. "They're certainly useless for fighting him. And like you said--they won't be the last."

"What are you three up to?" Sirius said suddenly, making them all jump. He and Percy and Katie strode over to them.

"Erm--" Ron started to say, glancing at Harry, waiting for a signal.

Then Harry noticed how grim Sirius looked. Harr glanced back and forth at his face, Percy's and Katies, frowning. "What?"

Katie said slowly, "It was Lucius Malfoy who locked us in that cell. And he--he said some things--"

Harry willed his heart to go on beating. "What?" he breathed.

Percy drew his mouth into a line. "He took the time to torture me a bit first, for taking his fortune from him--"

Katie put her arms around his waist and looked up at him. "He said horrid, horrid things--"

The others waited, and suddenly, it came from Percy in a rush. "He said that I obviously wasn't missing Penelope much." He nodded at Katie. "And he said that he would soon be back where he belonged. He said that he was going to make his son's girlfriend do things for him, to teach him a lesson about betraying his father, and that if Draco behaves himself, he'll forgive him and see to it that his son receives a reward when this is all over. He said--" Percy choked for a moment. He went on in a whisper. "He said that my little sister would be writhing on the ground under his son--"

Percy closed his eyes and shuddered. When he opened them, he was looking at Harry. "Where is she, Harry? Is she all right?"

Harry had difficulty speaking. Lucius Malfoy was free and out to get the Weasleys. "He's not going to make Ginny do anything, Percy," he said, shaking. "For one thing, she's not his son's girlfriend anymore. She's my girlfriend now. Ginny's fine. She's at Hog's End. Angelina is having the babies. Well, actually, she's already had the girl, Rowena. Madam Pomfrey is there, helping. She's probably had the boy now, as well. We had to take Ginny with us before using the Portkey to go to Fraserburgh. Malfoy was wondering why Ginny wasn't going with us, as we said that we were going to Hog's End because of the babies being born...."

Percy gripped his arm. "Draco Malfoy knows she's there? He can tell his dad!" Harry swallowed. Oh god, he's right...

"I'll go," Sirius said suddenly. "I'm not as knackered as the Aurors or the rest of you, I'm not a student, and I'm not needed to sail the ship. If Lucius Malfoy tries to attack Hog's End, he'll have me to deal with." His voice was very hard. Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder; Harry looked up at him.

"Take care of them," he whispered, missing Ginny dreadfully and now worried that she might yet again be targeted by Lucius Malfoy, as she was in her first year of school. Sirius nodded and took out his wand.

"Tell the headmaster where I've gone. When I get there, I'll also summon the operatives we had standing by for additional help. It's not the reason we told them we might need help, but that doesn't matter. No one's going to attack Hog's End on my watch."

He disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Sam came striding across the deck, frowning. "What's going on? Where's he off to?"

They all looked at each other nervously. Harry didn't like the idea of lying. He nodded at Percy. "Tell him. I'll go speak to Dumbledore."

When Harry returned to them, he wasn't clear whether Sam's original question had been answered. Instead, it seemed that they were telling Sam that Katie and Percy were now engaged. Harry forced a smile; it was good news. Was it so wrong for them to want to focus on something good?

"--and then he went down on one knee--" Katie was telling Sam, looking up at Percy with a glowing face, holding her fiancé's hand and looking positively delirious.

Sam looked flabbergasted. "Well, I'll be--" He was rendered speechless, and Aberforth came over to them to find out what was happening. When Katie and Percy told them, Aberforth cried out happily and hugged Katie firmly. Then he backed up from her, holding her by the shoulders, grinning.

"I can't believe our little Katie is engaged!" he said happily.

"Oh, Uncle Dick--" Katie said, coloring. "I'm not a little girl anymore."

Harry frowned, then realized that of course Katie had been accustomed to calling him Uncle Dick. He'd been her father's closest friend from the time he'd been released from Azkaban. When Aberforth had released Katie, Percy put his arm around her protectively again.

"I just wish we didn't have to wait to get married," Percy said quietly, looking at Katie as though no one else in the world existed. Behind Percy's head, the western sky was filled with orange ribbons, and Harry was shocked to realize that the sun was going down. They'd embarked on their voyage before sunrise. The days wouldn't be longer than the nights for another five weeks, but it still surprised him. The Patricia was moving with a gentle swaying motion now, and Harry turned to see Severus Snape at her helm, looking as at peace as he had in his other life when he was sailing. Maggie was at his side, beaming up at him. Suddenly, a brilliant thought occurred to him.

"If you like--you don't have to wait," he said to Percy.

Percy frowned, as he always did when he didn't think someone was making sense according to his strict definition. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't have to wait. Snape could marry you. He's the captain of the ship. We're at sea. If he agrees, we could have the ceremony right now, as the sun's going down."

Now it was Percy's turn to look flabbergasted. "I--I never thought of that. But--but don't you want a big wedding?" he said, to Katie. "A gown, party after, all that? Your dad to give you away--"

Katie put her arms around him. "My dad is already here. As for a big wedding, a gown and a party, I never wanted any of that. In fact, I thought when we did get married we'd just go to a registry office with our closest friends and some family, then have a nice dinner at Hog's End after. Instead of the registry office, we can have the ceremony here, and we can still have a nice dinner at your house after. I don't care about the rest of it. I just care about you," she said quietly, gazing up at him.

Percy grinned down at her, then glanced uncertainly at Sam. "How--how do you feel about this, sir?"

Sam looked appalled. "I think that if you call me sir one more time I shall have to see whether they have taught you how to defend yourself from gardeners during that Auror training of yours," he said, abruptly breaking into a grin. "I told you the first time we had dinner together, I'm just Sam. And--and I think the idea is just brilliant." he said, smiling lovingly at his daughter. "I was half afraid--well, more than half-afraid--that I wouldn't be coming home with a daughter, and find instead that I may be gaining a son."

Percy pulled Katie to him in a kiss after that, and when they separated, they were both grinning like mad. "So, then, are we actually doing this?" Percy asked, incredulous.

"Doing what?" Maggie asked, suddenly appearing at her brother's side.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Katie said, shaking her head in wonder. "But I'm so glad," she added, looking happily at Percy.

"And we'll have that dinner at Hog's End tonight!" Percy said with determination. He looked at Harry defiantly, as though Harry had suggested that this wouldn't be possible. Keep them safe, Sirius, Harry prayed. We'll be there later, with a wonderful surprise.... This was a good thing, he felt. It was something happy to distract them for a little while, before returning to their real lives and having to face the fact of those who hadn't made it because their bodies were at the bottom of the sea now, or because they'd been kissed.

"Doing what?" Maggie asked again. "Having dinner at Hog's End? That sounds lovely." Percy and Katie turned to her, grinning.

"We're getting married," Katie told her. Maggie gasped and hugged each of them, laughing.

"When?" she wanted to know.

"Now!" Percy said, shocking his older sister. Her jaw dropped open.

"Oh!" Hermione said suddenly. "It's perfect! You know what today is, don't you?"

Maggie had let Percy and Katie go; they frowned now. "No," Katie said. "We lost track of time while we were in there. Friday? Is that good, getting married on a Friday?"

"No, that's not what I meant!" she said, rolling her eyes and laughing. "It's Valentine's Day!"

Percy and Katie grinned at each other. "You're right, Hermione," Percy said, looking down at his bride. "It's perfect."

Ron laughed. "Charlie won't like it." His older brother looked at him blankly. Now it was Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "Bloody hell, am I the only one in the family who remembers when birthdays are? Today is Charlie's thirty-second birthday. And from now on, Charlie's birthday will also be your anniversary."

Percy flushed. "Sorry, Ron. I've always been very bad at that. But there are other people in the family who remember birthdays; the twins always remember Ginny's..."

Maggie gave Ron a mystified look. "Ginny's birthday is April Fool's Day," Ron told her. "The twins don't remember her birthday as such; it happens to be on the same day they think should be a national holiday...."

His older sister smiled at him. "So there will be two special things our family will celebrate on this day in future. A birthday--and an anniversary," she said, looking lovingly at Percy and Katie. Her gaze settled on Katie and she laughed. "And I'm getting another sister!" she crowed, gathering Katie into her arms for another hug.

When she released her brother's bride, Katie looked a little frightened. "And I'm getting quite a lot of brothers and sisters," she said softly. "I hope no one expects me to memorize birthdays for quite a while, though," she added, looking slyly at Ron.

"No one will expect you to," Ron reassured her. Then he looked like he remembered something. "Wait! There will actually be three Weasley birthdays and an anniversary today. We forgot about George and Angelina's kids!" He smiled at Percy and Katie, shaking his head. "I can't believe the pair of you are getting married..."

"We just need to ask the captain," Harry said, nodding in Snape's direction. "Come on, I'll go with you." He pulled Katie by the hand, and Percy brought up the rear. The three of them wove around the others who had come back on deck, finally reaching Severus Snape at the tiller; he was now speaking to his uncle about the damage to the ship.

"Captain?" Harry said uncertainly. Snape turned away from his uncle.

"Excuse me a moment," he said to Duncan MacDermid, before turning to Harry. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" Something in his eyes told Harry that he was back to regarding him as a fellow sailor now. Harry didn't mind being 'Mr. Potter' again instead of 'Harry;' in his other life, when he'd been on board with his dad, he'd always been called 'Mr. Potter,' and he'd called Jamie 'Miss Potter' at those times as well.

He didn't see the expression in Snape's eyes change when he explained what they were after. He glanced over Percy and Katie's faces, seeing the hope and anticipation there, and said, "Certainly. I will have my uncle take over for me here. Clear some space on the foredeck. I shall be there in a minute."

Harry started leaving with the thrilled Percy and Katie, but Snape's hand on his arm detained him. "Harry," he hissed between his teeth. "I've never done this before."

"You can do it. You're the captain--"

"I know that I can do it. I never have done it," he said, his jaw clenched. Harry realized that he was nervous. He tried not to grin and tease him about this.

"You'll be fine. You've been to weddings before," he added, consciously avoiding mentioning that the last one was Alicia and Roger's. This one promised to be very different.

Snape looked at him doubtfully, the uncertainty in his eyes still. He disappeared belowdecks briefly, to get ready, and Harry went to Percy and Katie, who were standing with Sam, Ron, Hermione, Maggie, Aberforth and some other Aurors now, who were hugging and kissing them in congratulations.

"Save that for after the ceremony," Harry said, grinning. "The captain will be ready in a minute." Aberforth took out his wand and moved it delicately, pointing it toward the sails; fairy lights appeared to be clinging to the sailcloth now, glittering in the dusk, sending a glow over all of them. With another wave of his wand, the frigid air surrounding them gradually grew warmer, until it felt more like it was the middle of May, rather than the middle of February.

Suddenly, Ron pulled Harry aside. He looked uncomfortable and nervous. You'd think he was the one getting married, Harry thought. "Everything okay, Ron?"

Ron grimaced and looked over his shoulder to where Percy was standing with Katie. "I just thought of something, Harry."

"What?"

"Mum."

"I promise, I won't say anything." He paused. "But--what am I keeping mum about?"

"I didn't say 'keep mum,' I said 'Mum.' As in our mum. Mine and Percy's and Maggie's. That mum."

"Oh," Harry said simply, having nothing else he could say. Then suddenly, it dawned on him what Ron meant. "Oooooh," he said now, understanding why Ron looked a bit sick. Molly Weasley would be furious when she learned that Percy had married without her being present. Harry's mouth twisted as he regarded Percy and Katie. "Bit hard to stop things now, don't you think?"

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I have no intention of stopping them. As far as I'm concerned, they have every right to do this." He looked at Percy again and took a deep breath. "I just hope he realizes that it may mean another row with Mum when he gets back."

Harry shook his head. "No, you didn't see her when we called the Burrow from Snape's office. She'll be thrilled just to see him alive."

Ron looked shrewdly at him. "You haven't spent all that much time around my mum, remember. Even after it seems she's over it, she won't let this go for years to come. Trust me." He watched Percy and Katie kiss. "But I won't say a word beforehand. He'll put a stop to it if he remembers. It's better this way. Don't mention anything to him."

"Right. Mum about the mum." He and Ron laughed conspiratorially for a moment. Harry agreed with Ron. Fear of what Mrs. Weasley would say shouldn't stop the wedding.

"Places!" Hermione called, clapping her hands imperiously. Harry grinned at Ron, who backed up to get out of her way; Harry had seen that Ron had become rather good at recognizing the right time to give Hermione a wide berth. This was definitely one of those times.

Dumbledore stepped forward and held out something to Hermione which made her drop her jaw. "I believe we could use some music, Miss Granger, and I understand that you know what to do with one of these." He was handing her a beautiful cello, the varnished golden-brown wood gleaming in the setting sun. Her mouth was open in a slightly unflattering pose. Glancing up at the headmaster, she snapped it shut again.

"How--but why wasn't it smashed to bits--?"

She took it from him, along with the bow, gazing down at it wonderingly. "But--but a Transfiguration like this is very, very complicated. Most people could get something that looks like a cello, but for it to really work--" She stopped and swallowed, as though remembering to whom she was speaking. Instead, she stroked the bow across the strings briefly, and a deep, mellow beauty emanated from it that made her catch her breath. "Oh!" she said, and Harry knew that her inability to say more was in its way a more telling sign of her pleasure than if she had been able to go on at length about it.

Harry thought Dumbledore looked rather pleased with himself. "After all," he said, "what would a wedding be without music?" he said softly, looking at her over his spectacles. She grinned at him, and Harry wondered whether she'd want to go back to using her old cello after this.

He realized that this would only be the second wedding he'd ever been to in this life, Alicia's being the first. In his other life, there had been his mother and stepfather's wedding, as well as various weddings for family friends. (He'd never been taken to weddings of the Dursleys' family and friends, but was usually packed off to Mrs. Figg's on the rare occasion that someone wanted one of the Dursleys to witness their nuptials.)

As the sun sank lower, the orange and apricot streamers in the sky turning to deep red and gold, Hermione began to play the cello. Maggie, the maid-of-honor, walked down an improvised aisle between the 'guests'--Aurors and their rescuers--with a bouquet of tiger lilies that Harry had seen Aberforth conjuring. Next came a beaming Sam with his daughter on his arm. The tattered robes she'd been wearing in the prison cell hadn't been Transfigured at all, merely cleaned with a spell. Katie carried herself with a dignity that couldn't have been surpassed had she been wearing a gown made for a princess. She also held a bouquet of tiger lilies; they picked up the colors of the dusky sky, as well as the Weasley hair. Sam smiled lovingly at his daughter when they reached Percy, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. Percy was also in his old dusty robes, which made him appear absurdly dashing. Ron was by his side as his best man.

Snape wore an immaculate navy blazer with white flannels, making Harry wonder whether Dumbledore had been running around the ship Transfiguring everything in sight (everything except Percy and Katie's robes). When Hermione finished the piece she'd been playing, there was polite applause and Aberforth handed her another tiger lily bouquet; Harry escorted her down the aisle to stand next to Maggie as another bridesmaid, while he took his place as a groomsman, next to Ron.

The fairy lights twinkled above the crowd as they stood silently, respectfully, waiting for Snape to begin. He looked impassively at Katie and Percy, then gazed around at them all, finally beginning to speak:

"Since time immemorial, it has been the happy privilege of the captain of a ship to join two people in marriage," he intoned. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he looked at Katie and Percy. "But I doubt any other captain has ever had the privilege of bringing two people out of a prison where they might have perished and launching them forward into a new life within the same twenty-four hour period."

"You just got out of prison, mate! Why sign on for more 'ard time already?" shouted a voice from the crowd of Aurors, causing a ripple of laughter to roll through their audience. Percy and Katie joined in the laughter as they stood before Snape, holding hands.

"It's only a prison if you aren't volunteering for it!" Percy called back, never taking his eyes from his bride and looking happier than Harry had ever seen him.

When the laughter had died down again, Percy turned to Snape. "I know this is spur of the moment, sir, so we'll just do our own vows, I think."

Harry thought Snape looked very relieved. "Thank you," he said with feeling.

Katie handed her flowers to Maggie and the two of them faced each other, holding hands. Percy smiled at Snape for a moment before looking at his bride again. "Do you want me to go first?" he whispered to her.

She shook her head. "No," she whispered back. "I have no idea what I'm going to say, but I think I should do it before I'm crying too hard to speak," she said, laughing nervously. Tears were already wetting her cheeks, but Harry could tell they were happy tears. Percy nodded and grasped her hands a little more tightly.

"The first time I ever saw you," she said, her voice lifted now, carrying across the stillness of the crowd, "was when I was a first year and you were a fourth year, helping your brothers onto the train with their trunks. All that year--and in the many years since--I saw them play prank after prank on you, making you the butt of every joke they could come up with. And yet, when all was said and done, you still behaved toward them as you did on that first day I saw you. You're their big brother, helping them and guiding them and holding no grudges. No matter what they've done to you--and they've done quite a lot," she added, causing a ripple of laughter to move through the crowd again; "--you never tried to get revenge," she finished softly. Katie started crying a little harder and wiped away her tears with the back of one hand, murmuring, "God, I didn't know it would be so hard not to cry..." Hermione discreetly passed her a handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully.

When she had returned the handkerchief to Hermione, she steeled herself, looking up at him again, taking hold of both of his hands once more. "That's just who you are, Percy Weasley. You don't hold grudges. You look out for others whether or not they want you to, and whether or not there's anything in it for you." She swallowed and smiled at him. "I take you to be my husband, Percy Weasley, because I love you with all my heart and with all my soul, and because you are my inspiration and my guide, and I can think of nothing I would rather do than share my life with you and love you all my days."

Harry thought Percy looked very much like he might want to kiss Katie before it was time; he gazed at her with a look that burned, and Katie returned the look, shaking a little. "I'm done," she whispered to Percy. "It's your turn now."

Percy laughed out loud and continued to gaze at her. "A couple of years ago, I never thought I'd laugh again," he said. He looked very sober now, and Harry remembered the fate of poor Penelope, and Lucius Malfoy saying that it looked like Percy hadn't been thinking about her. Harry knew that it had been quite hard for Percy to get over Penelope.

"We have been living through terrible times and terrible deeds," he said, his voice quiet, yet still carrying across the deck, his words making Harry think again of Lucius Malfoy. "We have all lost loved ones, people whose friendships we treasure, people who were signposts on our way." Harry wasn't certain, but he thought that might be Percy's way of mentioning his first love. He tightened his grip on Katie's hands. "I have been fortunate enough to find another person whom I love, someone whose friendship I treasure dearly, and someone who is not only a signpost on my way, but--" He looked up, squinting, at a loss for words; as he scanned the horizon over Katie's shoulder, where the setting sun was disappearing behind a lighthouse on the shore that was already beaming its silent warning to all ships at sea. He grinned and looked into Katie's eyes again.

"I've felt so lost for much of the last four years. Now I shall never be lost again. It doesn't matter that we are marrying on a ship, with no fixed point, no permanent location. You are my true north, my way and my destination, all in one. And now you will be my wife. You found me; you found me, and your love is the beacon shining me home."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, giving a little gasp and starting to cry. Ron smile at her affectionately, while Maggie was gazing at Percy, looking frightfully proud of him. Harry thought Katie would utterly dissolve into tears any moment. He wished Ginny were there, in his arms. He knew she'd also cry, and then he could dry her tears....

"I believe," said a slightly amused voice, "that it is time for the rings?" Dumbledore had stepped forward, holding out two dark grey metal rings that appeared to have been transfigured from links of the anchor chain. Percy and Katie looked at him gratefully; he'd thought of everything.

When he withdrew again, each of them took a turn putting the ring on the other person's hand, murmuring, "With this ring, I thee wed....with this ring, I thee wed...."

Maggie returned Katie's bouquet to her. Percy and Katie gave each other enormous grins and turned to Snape, holding hands. Harry was gratified to see that he was smiling back at them both, looking wonderfully like the man he'd called 'Dad' for so many years.

He lifted his strong voice again, saying, "By the power invested in me by international maritime law, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may--" Katie slid her arms up around his neck and Percy gathered her to him, pressing his mouth to hers, one hand holding her face up to his. "--kiss the bride," Snape trailed off, watching them.

Harry saw Maggie catch Snape's eye and smile. A cheer went up from the crowd, and when Percy and Katie separated their mouths, Katie threw her bouquet into the air, laughing. It seemed to hang there, suspended for an eternity, before it plunged down directly into Maggie's hands, so that now she had two bouquets. She laughed, looking at Snape, and Harry saw that their eyes were still locked as the crowd of Aurors descended upon Percy and Katie, thumping him on the back and kissing the laughing, happy bride. The lighthouse behaved as their own personal spotlight, adding to the illumination that the fairy lights already lent to the impromptu festivities, while the stars wheeled overhead and the Patricia sailed south toward Dover.