Author's Note: This round and this OWL was really hard, and I don't like what I've written, but I tried. I hope you can see the potential of the idea behind the shitty writing.

QLFC

Round 9 - Write about Peter Pan

Hogwarts OWLs

Defence Against the Dark Arts

Path 1: Write about a character preparing too much for something. This could be anything. It could be something so big that everyone understands, or it could be something small and no one else understands. The character you choose to write about should be in a panic, and something unexpected has to happen (a disaster in your character's mind).

Extra Prompts: (character) Minerva McGonagall, (emotion) Fear

Pokémon Trading Card Challenge

Write about someone who wants to witness a mermaid or siren sighting

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise


One Day

The soles of his sturdy, black boots thudded against the damp boards, causing the buckle to jangle noisily as Albus Dumbledore crossed the deck of his ship. He placed pale, gnarled hands on the high wooden side of the ship and let out a harsh sigh, the sound whistling through his teeth. His blue eyes, sharp and expressive, were shadowed by the wide brim of his hat, but his gaze was unwavering as he stared hard at the section of jungle that sheltered his greatest foe.

"Cap'n?"

Albus turned slowly, his brooding stare coming to rest on the tall, skinny form of his first mate and right-hand woman – Minerva McGonagall. She looked sternly at him, her hair scraped back tightly, her lips in a firm line, her eyes direct, but Albus could see the apprehension in them. They were not winning this fight and everyone aboard the ship knew it.

"Yes?"

"We have gathered your chosen few in your quarters for a meeting, will you come?"

Albus glanced back over his shoulder, eyes once more pinned to the jungle, but swiftly turned back nodding loosely. Minerva, satisfied, turned on her heel and swiftly moved across the deck, dodging those lackey members of the Order who were not skilled enough to play a larger role. They swabbed the decks and stood around in small groups, murmuring whispers and rumours. Albus followed her towards the raised deck at the stern, where his quarters were situated. As he crossed the deck, Albus looked to the Phoenix figurehead that decorated the bow, carved in the style of his loyal companion, Fawkes. It was normally a sight that comforted the Captain, but at the moment, it held no such reassurance.

The decorative glass panes that studded the door rattled in their frames as Albus slammed it behind him and surveyed the room. There were nine other people in the room, all gathered around the large desk in the centre, hunched over the map of Neverland. They were discussing in sharp, hushed tones that stopped when he entered, every eye looking up at him.

For a second, no one spoke. They all knew how he was feeling; they all knew the devastation he felt when they had failed again. They didn't know what would happen now, and no one wanted to be the one to ask.

"Well, Captain Dumbledore, what now?" Sirius Black, one of his finest fighters, had never been one for long silences. Despite the evil looks that Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon shot at him, the young man smiled cheerfully at his commander, as if unaware of the dire situation.

"We have been looking at the map, sir," Frank Longbottom interrupted. "Have you considered an attack from the east?"

"Or maybe even from above? Would a boy who can fly really expect us to try the same? There are hundreds of pixies on this island, all we would need to do it capture one—"

Albus slammed his hand onto the table causing everything to rattle and several people to jump back in shock. He was not often prone to such outbursts. "Do you not think," he demanded, "that I have considered every possible approach? I have 50 years of experience on all of you, and I have tried everything, but Riddle is smart, smarter than he pretends to be. This, this stupidity, this desire to never grow up, to never die, allows him to act the child, but there is a boy out there, a boy with the inhibitions of the child but the experience and the manipulative power of a man. There is nothing he won't expect. Nothing." He sighed again, pacing in front of the door as the others gazed back at him. Everyone but Minerva had fear in their eyes, the fear that this whole venture was driving him slowly, but surely, mad.

They didn't understand, not really. They were all so young, too young. They couldn't see the bigger picture. They thought that faith and trust and pixie dust would defeat this foe, but Tom Riddle was so much more than an obstacle. He was a mountain. He struck fear into Albus' heart with a quirky, boyish smile. Evil ran thick through his veins and stained his very heart. They were going to need more than pixie dust to help them.

"Minerva, take the wheel. Plot a course northward around the island." He looked up to his first mate. "We're going to see the mermaids."

X

The lagoon was eerily quiet as the small rowboats floated soundlessly into the rocky cove. The moon sparkled across the still waters but it did not illuminate any of the curious, magical creatures that lived beneath them. Albus looked around but nothing moved. He held up a hand, signalling them to stop, and both rowers halted their movements.

The rocks where the creatures could normally be found at this time of night were barren, and suddenly, this little venture didn't seem as good an idea as it had back on the relative safety of their ship.

"Captain, over there! To your left!"

Albus whipped his head around, and sure enough, a sleek head had appeared above the water. The merpeople were curious creatures. Their skin a hard grey, mottled with blue. They had no nose to speak of, simply two slits and gills fluttered down the sides of their necks. What little hair they had was slicked back. But it was their eyes, so blue, so icy that they glowed like beacons that drew Albus in the most.

As he watched, the merperson disappeared beneath the inky surface of the water, popping up again a few moments later right in front of the captain, startling the others in the boat. Albus took off his hat, his boots and his coat and allowed the mermaid, he could tell now, to coax him into the water with one cold, slimy, webbed hand.

"The one you seek to harm,
The boy who will not die,
Will always be too quick,
No matter how you try."

She said in a voice as sweet as sugar. Down here, her eyes lit the water, and the slicked back hair floated like a halo around her head. She went from strange and hostile to ethereal and majestic. It was a breath-taking sight, if Albus had had breath to steal.

"You will not be the one,
To strike the fatal blow,
A child not yet born to us,
Will end the constant woe.

12 years before return of hope,
And many deaths besides,
Tom Riddle might yet be stopped,
Before Lord Voldemort rises.

You must be there to aid the child,
Lead him to his death,
But know that in this venture,
You will draw your last breath."

X

Hours later, the sun crested over the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful mixture of pinks and yellows. Albus stood in the bow of his ship; he had not moved from this spot since their return several hours earlier. His clothes had almost dried from his encounter with the mermaid, but the words that she had imparted to him would not allow him to rest.

Albus looked out towards the jungle, where the boy terror rested peacefully in his tree, surrounded by those poor souls he had called to his side, stolen from their homes and families forever. This war between them would not end soon and it would not come cheap.

Albus thought of those he held close; Minerva, Potter, Black, Lupin, McKinnon, Evans, the Longbottoms, and even creepy little Pettigrew, he had his uses. Who would be left when this was over? Who would outlive him, and where would this child saviour, this chosen one, this lamb he must lead to the slaughter, where would he come from?

There was so much to consider, so much to plan. He didn't know how long it would be, but he knew that he would not live to see a world untainted by this evil.

Albus looked out at the new dawning of this uncertain world and he felt the familiar stirrings of fear in his stomach. He didn't know if it would be a world worth waiting for, worth fighting for, but he knew that without his sacrifice, there wouldn't be a world to fight for. He had years to prepare, to plan and to build the threads of resistance that would support the child who would save them all.

There was fear, there would always be fear—for himself and for others, for the future of the whole world—but for the first time, there was a little more than just fear. He had a plan, a direction to go in, there was a chance to beat this Riddle once and for all.

For this first time, there was just a little spark of hope there to deaden the fear.


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Much Love, MaryandMerlin x