Summary: Harry and Hermione experience a few... complications when they're trying to go back in time to save Sirius from the Dementors. Big complications...
There will eventually be some violence, but only what's in Harry Potter and the Pirates of the Caribbean, so I think it would be K+ to T, but I'm not sure.
Disclaimer: I own neither of these wonderful movies/books, and I promise that I am making absolutely no money at all doing this.
...…
Pirates of the Caribbean, the mysterious trio wearing black robes that appeared rather suddenly just above the deck of the Black Pearl.
Also known as Harry Potter and the out of control time turner which decided to dump them in the 18th century.
"Three turns should do it," Dumbledore finished, motioning with his fingers to show what he meant. He left the room, smiling to himself.
"What the hell does that mean?" Ron asked indignantly from his position on the hospital bed.
Hermione, who seemed to understand better than the two boys, gave Ron a distracted look and started to pull a necklace from under her shirt by a golden chain, "sorry, Ron, but the thing is, you can't walk."
She got the necklace free, walked over to Harry, and put it around his neck as well. He looked at it curiously and reached a hand out to touch it, "what's this?"
She slapped his hand away and began to fiddle with the charm-thing on it. She turned it over three times, then waited expectantly, and she wasn't disappointed.
It was the strangest feeling in the world. They were still standing in the hospital wing, but the students and teachers moving around backwards at crazy speeds paid them no notice. Harry stole a glance at Ron's bed, and was shocked to see that his best friend wasn't there.
But then something went wrong. The speed of the pictures increased, and one look at the clock told Harry that they were passing at least a day every five seconds.
Soon even the hour hand of the clock was a blur, and the shapes moving around the pair were practically invisible. Harry was pretty sure he saw some of the petrified patients revived backwards, then lie there for a while, then he was absolutely certain that he saw himself talking to Dumbledore at the end of his first year, after he had saved the philosophers stone from Quirrel and Voldemort.
Some people passed straight through the pair of them without noticing, but Harry had a suspicion that the grey-blue blur that kept pausing directly in front of them, then vanishing in the blink of an eye, was Dumbledore having a vague idea of what was going on. He wouldn't put it past the headmaster.
Suddenly, Harry's vision went black, and he panicked, pulling against the chain connecting him to Hermione, breaking it. He only remembered the sensation of falling, then, suddenly, he was lying face down on a wooden surface.
For a moment, he just lay there, winded, part of him wondering what Hermione's necklace had actually done, but part of him already knew. His mind just couldn't make sense of the concept.
Time travel.
The floor was moving, not very much, but still moving, just gently swaying, as if...
... I'm on a ship.
He opened his eyes, and saw that he was correct. A very old-fashioned ship, with black sails, and no electricity in sight. He was behind some wooden structure, hiding most of the deck from view.
Hermione was lying nearby with her eyes still closed.
"Whatever that was, Hermione... did it work?"
A pause while Hermione opened her eyes and peered around, her quick clever brain making notes of the situation. Harry could almost see the gears in her brain turning.
"Perhaps a little too well," was all she said.
He narrowed his eyes, "And what was it."
"It's a Time Turner, Harry."
"And why would I have an interest in appearing on some random ship that has nothing whatsoever to do with Sirius, the dementors that are about to suck out his soul, and two innocent lives that could be saved?" he demanded.
Hermione winced, "as I said, it worked a little too well."
Harry rolled his eyes and looked around, "where are we?"
"I don't know," Hermione answered, but then she froze, "Harry, look up!"
There were strange creatures moving around on the masts, which looked a little like skeletons from a muggle horror story. There were even a few on deck, and Harry wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed them before. As he watched, something came to his attention. When the skeletons were standing in any kind of shade, they seemed to become normal people, and it was only in the moonlight that their bones were exposed.
"Hermione, what are they," Harry hissed.
For once at a loss for words, Hermione just shook her head, "I have no idea."
Harry looked around, worried, "they are going to spot us, we need more cover."
"We should hide somewhere down those stairs, there's nowhere else to go," Hermione answered.
Harry nodded, and they slowly crept towards the stairs leading down into whatever the downstairs of a ship is called.
They were in a small, corridor-like wooden room with some doors leading off of it. Harry shrugged and turned to Hermione for guidance.
Hermione rolled her eyes and whispered, "just choose one, Harry.", and he opened the one closest to him.
It was another wooden room, bigger than the last one, with a small table covered in maps, old-fashioned looking charts, gadgets, a clear bottle of red liquid, and a large bowl of apples. Worryingly, there was no signs of magic anywhere, so they were on a muggle ship, which meant they would have to be very careful about what they said.
He was about to point this out to Hermione when he noticed something even stranger. There was a young woman huddled in the corner, half concealed by the table. She looked like she was in her late twenties, with dark, slightly curly, long hair, and a reddish dress that looked like it was from the 18th century.
She looked up, and said fiercely, but with a slight tremor in her voice, "You can tell the captain that he is an abhorrent halfwit and that I would rather die now than die to break his curse."
Harry stepped around the table to get a better look at her. She gazed at him fiercely, "what does he want me to do now, perform a dance for the whole ship?"
"Hello, I think we got off on the wrong foot, I'm Harry Potter, and this is Hermione Granger, what's your name?" Harry asked, attempting to calm her down.
"Elizabeth Turner," she said testily.
At least she didn't say anything offensive this time, that's a start, Harry thought to himself. He was hopeless at this.
"You're dressed weirdly, Elizabeth pointed out, "not like the other people on this ship. Who wears black robes when trying to keep a gigantic ship sailing in the right direction?"
Hermione shrugged, "who wears a dress?"
Elizabeth stared at her, "all women wear dresses, did you grow up under a mountain?"
"No, no, of course silly me," Hermione stammered, realising too late that this seemed to be the 18th century.
Harry was all too aware of the possibility of one of those creatures coming down here and finding them, so he decided he needed some answers quickly.
Hermione beat him to it, "Elizabeth, I think we might be in need of some help," she said quietly.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, but didn't interrupt.
"We, err, we're not from around here," Harry tried to explain.
"Yes, you see, uh, our ship sunk," Hermione continued off the top of her head.
"And we ended up in the sea," Harry added.
"Generally what happens when the ship you're on sinks, yes," Elizabeth snapped.
Glaring at Harry, Hermione carried on, "and we saw your, err, this ship, and we climbed on board, thinking it was a normal ship, and, well."
"We saw the skeletons, and realised that it wasn't," Harry finished, pleased with their work.
"And why are you not wet?" Elizabeth asked them, and Harry realized the flaw in their cover-story.
"We, um, were on deck for a long time before we worked up the courage to seek refuge down here," Harry answered, trying hard to speak with the speech patterns of the 18th century.
If possible, Elizabeth's eyebrows went even further into her forehead, "surely you would be a little bit damp, if that was so."
Hermione winced, "a very long time," she said uncertainly.
"How long?" Elizabeth asked, and it was apparent that she would not let the matter drop.
The pair looked at each other, and Hermione spoke up, "since this morning," she squeaked.
Elizabeth lay her head back on the wood behind it, "ah, so you have been huddled on deck, where there is no cover, and the crew is crawling all over it, not seeing fit to ask the people right in front of you for help, despite the fact that they look perfectly normal in the day, for eight hours. And keep in mind that today, this ship attacked a port, and there would have been cannon fire, and no one noticed two children playing a bit of hide and seek when walking all over the ship barking orders, yes?" she asked.
Harry paused and imagined for a moment what a disaster it would be if Ron was present and asked what cannon fire was. That would not help convince Elizabeth of their cover story in the slightest.
"No," Hermione admitted sheepishly, in response to Elizabeth's comment, "that's not quite it."
"This ship sunk our ship and we climbed aboard this ship hoping to reach a port, but we couldn't get off during the battle, so we hid, and have been hiding since then," Harry said in a rush.
"And you conveniently forgot that part earlier, did you?" Elizabeth asked.
They looked at each other again, then Hermione said, "it didn't seem important at the time."
"And were you on that ship by yourselves, or are you the only survivors?" Elizabeth probed. Her endless sceptical questions were starting to annoy Harry.
"We were going on a journey with our two families, and, well, we can only assume all of the others are probably dead," Harry answered in as measured and calm a voice that he could manage.
"Oh," Elizabeth, seemed, for once, at a loss for words, "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
Harry realized that this was their way out, "well, it's not your fault," he said sadly.
"But it is the people, well, skeletons, on this ship's fault," Hermione raised her voice fiercely, cottoning on instantly, "which is why we hid, because would rather die than accept help from them, and we're going to wait until they're all asleep, and-"
"Well, you might have a bit of trouble with that," Elizabeth interrupted, suddenly sounding tired.
"Why," Harry and Hermione chorused.
"If you were hiding on deck, then surely you would have heard the captain's little horror speech specially made to frighten me, it was only about 10 minutes ago!" Elizabeth pointed out.
Oops, Harry thought to himself, and he racked his brain to think of an idea, but Hermione was quicker.
"We've only just woken up, and from our hiding place everything sounded fuzzy anyway," she pointed out.
Elizabeth looked satisfied, "well, these people, they can't die, they're kind of stuck between life and death, I gathered, and I know that it's true, because, well, I stabbed Captain Barbossa, in the heart, mind you, and he barely even flinched!"
Hermione gasped, "impossible, that's not possible, only unicorn blood or the elixir of life from the philosopher's stone can make you immortal, and I don't see how they got enough for an entire ship's crew. The stone's in Nicholas Flamel's possession now." Hermione's eyes widened, realizing she had said too much.
Elizabeth was staring at her.
"Uh, well, that's what I heard, anyway," Hermione finished, shooting the woman an innocent smile.
"if you are not who you say you are, I swear that I will figure it out," Elizabeth threatened.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, worriedly, and Hermione broke the silence, "so, what are you doing on this ship, then."
Elizabeth looked away, "I was a maid, working for Governor Swan of Port Royal, when these pirates attacked, looking for a gold medallion that I had in my possession. It was, um, and heirloom from my father. They needed it to break their curse, which came from taking these Aztec gold pieces from a chest, they needed to return it from where they took it from, along with their blood as ,well, extra payment. One problem, though, one person who took some gold was at the bottom of the ocean, presumably dead, tied to a cannon and dropped into the sea.
Harry interrupted, "but they can't die."
"He could be still alive, just stuck," Elizabeth calmly explained.
Harry winced, that was not a nice situation to be in.
"Well, apparently, this man was my father, so they needed his blood, and the medallion he took, both of which had been passed down to me, so they need my blood to break the curse," she took a breath, "and that means they need to kill me, and then they will be free of the curse. So, they kidnapped me when they attacked the port."
"Ah," Hermione grinned, "so that was why you wanted to tell the captain that you wanted to die."
Elizabeth had the grace to look a little sheepish.
Harry was pretty sure that Elizabeth had not told them the truth, the story sounded too practised, and she would have got more emotional about her father being treated in such a way if it was true. But he didn't press the matter, because it was about her father's execution, an emotional subject if there ever was one. It was the same tactic that he and Hermione had used to reinforce their ship sinking story.
Hermione turned to the door, looking worried, "Elizabeth, I think Harry and I should probably hide."
Elizabeth nodded, "yes that is a good idea, but where?"
"Uh," Hermione looked around, her gaze flying past the furniture in the cabin, "I don't know."
And then they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It sounded like one pair of very heavy boots coming in the direction of the room they were in.
"Hide," Elizabeth hissed, and the pair scrambled around the tiny room for a moment until finally going for the classic 'hiding under the table' trick. The little desk was just big enough to hide the both of them, if they curled up enough.
It was dreadfully uncomfortable, but they couldn't really move into a better position without making a noise, so they ended up squashed against each other with no way of seeing what was going on outside.
Harry heard the footsteps stop, then the door creak slowly open, like they were in a horror movie. The footsteps continued, and a gruff voice said, "and I suppose yer just going to be sitting in the corner feeling sorry for yourself, now are you?"
There was a pause, and then he heard Elizabeth snap, "I'm not performing a ballad for the entire crew, if that's what you've come to ask."
"No, it's not," the voice sounded amused.
"And I'm not doing it naked," Elizabeth continued.
Harry had to stifle a snort, and he wondered what the mysterious voice had requested before that made Elizabeth think to even mention that.
"Watch your tongue, Miss Turner, or that exact thing might happen."
Harry of course couldn't see Elizabeth, but he knew that she had probably winced.
"Who were you talking to just now?" the voice asked, and the smirk was evident in the tone.
Harry's blood froze, and Hermione seemed to stop breathing next to him.
Elizabeth's reply was smooth, if not original, "oh, that, I talk to myself all the time, it's kind of a problem, really, you see."
"Really?" the voice was dripping with sarcasm, "well then, I apologise, I did not realise that you had at least three different voices, Miss Turner, one of whom is male."
There was a long silence, "I practise," Elizabeth tried.
Harry gently nudged Hermione, and once he had her attention, he mimed turning the time turner, and his friend nodded. The voice could check below the table, and not find anything, and while Elizabeth would be rather confused, and possibly quite worried for her mental safety, she would not face any repercussions for her hiding of two children on board the ship.
But Hermione looked at him after a few moments, confused. She mimed turning the time turner, then shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't speak, but the message was clear.
The time turner was gone, and they were now stuck in the 18th century.
…..
Again, I have no claim over Harry Potter or Pirates of the Caribbean.