A/N: So awhile ago, the QLFC had a Daily Prophet competition in which the Quidditch teams were asked to write a fic about their team stranded on a deserted island. The Cannons did write it; we just never submitted it.
I've taken it upon myself to upload it for all to enjoy. We may not have entered the competition, but we certainly had an adventure out at sea!
In this fic you will find: MoonstoneIce (Autumn), MaryandMerlin (Mary), isaacswolfbane (Ned), coleytaylor (Sarah), nymqhadora (Shannel), WritingBlock (Web), MissWitchx (Amy), and windflight13 (Wind).
It was a dark and stormy night when we lost the Cannons. They were sailing—an unusual pastime for broom riders, we know. No one tried to stop them, and now their disappearance will forever remain a mystery to the rest of us.
"Okay, who decided not to pack an extra sail?" Ned paced the length of the ship. Her teammates sat along the starboard side, their heads hanging low. "And why are we even sailing in the first place?"
No one had an answer to either question. In fact, no one could remember how they had gotten on a boat at all.
"Should we Reparo the old sail?" Shannel asked, lifting up the tattered cloth. Somehow, the Cannons survived a night of total hurricane mayhem. It was wild, like riding a hippogriff. And wet—like kissing the giant squid.
"I already tried," their captain said. "My magic isn't working."
"What?" It was a collective gasp from the team. Then, like a swarm of gnats, the Cannons ran around trying to get their wands working. Shouts of Reparo and Scourgify and Help me rang about the tiny boat. Ned remained stationary, patiently waiting for her team to calm down. When they didn't, she politely starting yelling until things quieted down.
"We must be in the Bermuda triangle," Mary said, once the team settled. "I heard it can affect magic."
"If that's true," said Amy, "then I think I know a solution."
The team listened carefully. Amy had read that if enough people concentrated their efforts while in the Bermuda triangle, they could produce a weakened stream of magic.
"But," Amy cautioned, "we'll have to use our spells wisely. The triangle is not a forgiving force. It'll drain us."
"What do we need most right now?" Autumn asked. "There's still plenty of food and water, so we won't need magic for those."
"We could really use a nice gust of wind," said Sarah. Everyone's heads turned to Wind.
"What?" she said. Then, "Oh! I get it."
"But really," said Sarah. "Wind would be great."
"Ventus," Web said. "We could use Ventus and point our wands toward the water like a jet. We can try to aim toward land."
Ned smiled. "That sounds like a plan."
Together the team gathered at the stern of the boat. With one loud voice, the Cannons used Ventus to propel their ship forward. Amy had been right; it was a weak spell. But they were moving, which was progress.
Web cried, "An island!"
They veered toward the island, excited to have solid ground beneath their feet.
Once off the boat, the Cannons assessed their surroundings.
"It looks deserted..." said Autumn.
"But is it?" finished Mary. Together, the team decided to use a second spell. They chanted, loudly, "Homenum Revelio!"
"Ouch!" cried Shannel, dropping her wand. "It's burning hot. Maybe we're overdoing the spells?"
"Guys, shh!" Sarah exclaimed. "There's someone here!"
She was right. Their collective spell had taken a moment to kick in, but when it did, the team could see a human-like glow off behind some trees.
"What should we do?" Wind asked.
"Should we approach them?" chimed Web.
"I think we should let them know that we outnumber them," Ned said, and marched right over to the only other person on their island.
Behind the tree stood a gangly old man, with hair that stood up in every direction. He was crouched over the lid of a trunk, whispering into its keyhole.
"Who are you?" asked Ned.
The old man jumped. When he turned around, the Cannons could see he had a beard that reached his knees.
"Who am I?" his beard wiggled. "Who am I? I think the proper question is, who are you?"
"We know who we are," Mary said. "We want to know who you are!"
"Well, I'm not telling you until you tell me."
"Okay," Amy said. "He's harmless. We should probably worry about how we're gonna get back home."
Sarah linked arms with Amy. "Works for me."
It was hours later, after the sun set and the moon sat high, when the Cannons finally settled in for the night. Web had gotten a fire going the Muggle way while Autumn, Shannel, and Mary prepared dinner. Ned, Amy, and Sarah scanned the shoreline for a rescue boat, and Wind kept her eyes on the treeline where the strange man had been.
"Guys," she called. "I haven't heard him in a while. You think he's okay?"
The Cannons huddled together. Slowly, they approached the old man's hideaway, but he wasn't there. Only his trunk remained.
"Could he have left?" Autumn asked.
"But I would have seen him," Wind said.
"Maybe we should try one last spell," Ned said. She pointed her wand at the trunk, and soon her fellow Cannons did the same.
"Cistem Aperio," they cried. The trunk opened with a soft click. They peered inside.
"Are those stairs?" Shannel said. There were, in fact, a whole flight of stairs leading downward. "After you guys."
Slowly, the Cannons descended. As they reached the bottom, they were amazed to find an entire world filled with rare and exotic creatures—a chimera here, a manticore there. They stood shoulder to shoulder, their mouths wide.
"So you are wizards." The old man appeared from behind a griffin, "My name is—"
"You're Newt Scamander!" Ned cried.
"Er, yes!"
"You went missing ages ago," said Web.
"How'd you end up here?" Shannel chimed.
Newt smiled. "All in good time, friends. Why don't I show you around first."
The Cannons followed Newt from corner to corner inside his trunk. They oohed and aahed and by the end of the tour, they made up their minds.
"We could stay here for a little while," Mary said. "Help Mr. Scamander take care of his animals."
"We can share our food," Sarah said. "There's a lot."
And that's how the Cannons spent the rest of their days thriving on a deserted island in the Bermuda triangle.