Groaning, Harry awoke to the sound of distant birdcall and crashing waves. His body ached when he tried to move, and there was sand grating against his skin, the taste of salt on his lips and his last memories scattered and disjointed. He remembered alarms blaring, flashes of lightning, then pain in the back of his head and the sickening lurch of being lifted off his feet and slung through the air like a ragdoll. As he sat, he winced, every muscle protesting and his hand spasming reflexively around a familiar length of wood.
At least I still have my wand.
Though the sunlight stabbing into his retinas caused an answering throb in the back of his skull, he felt fine, no hint of nausea or vertigo to alert him to a possible concussion. Relieved, he stood, swayed as the vertigo hit, then braced himself against a palm tree.
Maybe I do have a concussion...
Another groan escaped him, but with a flick of his wand, and a muttered healing spell aimed at his head, the pain and dizziness faded, leaving him back in full control of his faculties. The balmy breeze fluttering against his bare skin alerted him to the loss of his robes, and as he looked down, he found tatters of cloth that barely covered his bits. Irritated, he flicked his wand at them, then transfigured the reluctant mess into a pair of shorts which, thankfully, still kept him decently covered. A sun blocking charm followed, then he began to explore, grateful he didn't need shoes after long stretches of time spent walking barefoot.
Harry had spent most of his childhood barefoot and chasing seagulls and crabs, under the care of his seafaring godfather Sirius Black, and since most of their homes were on the beach, where clothes were a suggestion most of the time, he'd gotten used to going about mostly bare. The fact that he still burned like a cooked lobster within five minutes hadn't changed, nor had the fact that Sirius often laughed at him for forgetting the charm.
Shaking off the memories, he began searching for something to drink, his mouth dry and sticky with salt, and luckily happened upon a bundle of coconuts high in a tree. Then, with a well placed diffindo, he assuaged his thirst and headed back to the beach, wondering where he'd ended up. His radar spell, one created from a mix of point-me, homenum revelio, and a charm he'd developed to find metal, finally pinged a location about a mile off the coast north of where his wrecked ship had scattered debris against the beach. It wasn't what he'd expected, since it was down, and he'd been hoping for something above the waves, but curiosity filled him and he carefully began wading into the water.
With a quick bubblehead, and a proximity spell around him to warn him of danger, he ducked beneath the waves and followed the shallow slope to a sudden, steep downward drop.
Interesting...
Schools of colourful fish swam by, darting away as he drew close, then Harry gathered his courage and followed the drop, anticipation fizzing in his blood as he kept going. He had to stop for a moment to cast a series of spells to counteract the increasing pressure, as well as light the way when it started getting dark, and after what felt like hours he finally saw an answering glow in the gloom. There, ahead and shining golden, was what looked like a static form of his bubblehead. Glowing golden chains wrapped around the bubble, layered so thickly that it was a wonder he could see through the links, and in the center of the bubble showed hints of a ship.
Much like the Flying Dutchman, the ship that had made him famous among the diving community, this one was a galleon, sleek but deep bellied, the sails furled and each mast thick and sturdy. Dark green pain covered the entire thing, though it looked chipped in places, and once bright silver accents flashed in the golden glow of spell work. It was beautiful, from what little he could see, and as he drew closer, he realized there was movement on the deck, something flapping like cloth in the wind rather than the slow sway of it beneath the water.
Must be climate spells keeping it in an air bubble.
He thought, head tilting as he drifted sideways a bit, trying to see the ship through a new angle. Another movement caught his attention, closer to the wheel, then a third by the crow's nest, and now that he'd started, he couldn't stop seeing motion. What made his blood run cold, however, was the sight of red eyes in an otherwise human face peering through the gap back at him. Before he could make a break for it, before he could head back to the surface, a golden tendril of magic wrapped around his ankle and yanked, dragging him in a rush of bubbles to, then through the golden dome.
Harry woke to the sound of chatter and moving water, and for a moment, he felt deja vu. Then something poked him in the side and he snapped up, hand clenching on air as he scrambled away from the threat. That wasn't right, though; he should have his wand, right? Panic flashed through him, only made worse by the sudden murmur of voices, lots of voices, and the sudden cool expanse of sleek wood against his back.
After a brief moment for his eyes to adjust, thank Merlin for eyesight correction potions, Harry felt his breath catch at the sight of dozens upon dozens of black clad figures cutting off his escape. The one in front, decorated like an admiral, was twirling his wand in thin fingers, skin pale but calloused from years of hard work, and the man's eyes gleamed burgundy, flashing brighter red in the glow of the bubble any time he looked up.
"It has been a while since an outsider has graced us with their presence, wizard. I think the last to join the damned crew was a bitter man named Severus." Red Eyes' voice was soft, rich, the kind of voice that worked as easily as the imperius with no magic to blame.
It made Harry shiver, despite himself, and the flash of heat in those red eyes in response made a flush creep up his face. Then the words registered and his own emerald green widened in surprise, fear momentarily forgotten. "Wait, Severus Snape? As in, youngest potioneer in a century? Favourite target of the Marauder's crew? That Severus?"
Red Eyes grinned and stepped aside, turning back to motion forward a significantly aged man with weathered skin and a crooked nose.
"Indeed, Potter. As reckless as your father and godfather." The man sneered.
Harry glared back but remained calm in the face of the taunt, his only response, "I heard you were dead... When I was seven. Rumor had it you went down with the ship while looking for the Lilium." The story had been wide spread within days of the events occurring; Severus Snape, famous potioneer and budding diver, searching for his sister in all but blood, had gone down with the Leaky Cauldron in an attempt to find the Lilium, the ship that took Harry's parents from him.
A flash of pain crossed the man's features before he schooled them away, and Severus remained quiet as Red Eyes stepped between them, once more drawing attention.
"As fascinating as this all is, I would like to know why you're here."
Scowling, Harry relaxed against the side of the ship and crossed his arms, ignoring the sand chafing against the backs of his thighs and creeping under his shorts. "I don't know how I got here... I was heading to the dive site Siri picked out, ready to scout it and see if it was worth investigating, when a storm hit the ship I was in. We were tossed about like ragdolls, I hit my head, and next thing I know, I'm waking up on a beach in tattered clothes, a concussion, and none of the crew in sight. I'd found some coconuts for water, since my augamenti spell is always faulty, and a spell I developed pinged to signal a ship nearby. I'd been hoping for a ship above the water, but I've always been too curious by half, so I decided to explore."
Shrugging, Harry flicked his gaze from Red Eyes to the golden, chain wrapped bubble surrounding them, then continued. "When I went diving for a wreck, I expected the ship a bit more... wrecked. I'm glad it's not, old ships are always so pretty, but this isn't what I was expecting."
"I see..." Red Eyes made eye contact with a woman to his right, her hair black and flying around her head like an ominous cloud, eyes gleaming with unholy glee, then turned back to Harry as she disappeared up a ladder and onto the ship's deck. "Why don't you come up and we can introduce ourselves?"
"Actually," Harry scowled, eyes narrowed, "I'd like my wand back so I can leave. No clue why Severus stuck around, but I've got family to get back to."
A cruel smile spread across Red Eyes' face as he stepped forward, Harry's wand disappearing into his sleeve. "Haven't you figured it out by now?" Stepping forward, and watching as the young man who couldn't be older than twenty three scrambled up against his ship, the man grinned, stopping inches away. "This is the Voldemort, and there is no escape."
As Harry's flushed face turned ashen, chest rising and falling in panicked, shallow gasps, a soft denial falling from his lips, Red Eyes stepped back and bowed.
"Captain Tom Riddle, at your service. I hope we get along well, Mr. Potter, as you'll be here a long, long time."
No... No, no, no, no, no...!
The last thing he saw and heard before panic choked off his air was Red Eyes- Tom, head thrown back and laughing like he'd just conquered the world. Then his vision went black and he knew no more.