Colm Brennan knew he was going to die.
All he could do was to accept this as he sat, staring with shadowed eyes at the roiling Irish sea. For six months he had remained at the rocky coast, avoiding muggles and exploring the water's depths. Nothing, absolutely nothing bothered to show even a whisker.
"It won't be so bad," he muttered to himself, sounding positively insane. Based on Grindelwald's previous endeavors, his demise would not be quick or painless.
Back when he was younger, Colm had been fascinated with all sorts of magical creatures. Kneazles, unicorns, kelpies, and even a gnome or two had piqued his curiosity. Now, as he slowly stood from his forlorn position at the cliff's edge, he realized it was all a mistake. If not for his love of such beasts, he would have never been sent on an impossible quest with a promise of death over his head.
He took one last glance at the sea, noting with apathy that once more there was nothing to behold, and likely never would be. Grindelwald, in his self-determined righteous quest, had developed a lust for anything dark and powerful. He had heard tell of a creature whose pelt contained immense magical abilities, and he wanted it for his own. Unfortunately, the creature had not been sighted in over three hundred years, and many believed it to be simply folklore. Determined to achieve his ends, however, Grindelwald made it his business to find some poor ministry employee of the beast division and blackmail him into finding it. Threatened with a tortuous death for both him and his loved ones, Colm had no choice but to obey the dark wizard.
Thus he was out by the gray waters, alone and afraid on a mission that could not be completed. He had been here for so long, and it only verified the fact that selkies no longer existed, or never existed to begin with. By now he was certain, and knew he had nothing left to do but accept his fate or die anyways while trying to change it.
The slate colored sky was darkening to a smoky hue as Colm walked leisurely toward his tent. Though he knew that he was going to die in the near future, a strange laughter was building in his chest. It was slowly dawning on him that he wouldn't have lived through the end of the ordeal anyways. Grindelwald surely would have killed him, simply for knowing anything of his plans. What a fool he was, thinking he could slither his way out of this. He hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason, it seemed.
The thought of Hogwarts and sorting, houses and Quidditch made the laughter he'd bottled up swell, and before he could stop himself he was giggling uncontrollably. Something warm and salty touched his lips as he doubled over in hysteria—blood?—no, tears. As if flicking a switch, Colm was suddenly sober.
"Merlin's beard, I'll probably end up in St. Mungo's before that bastard lays a finger on me," he growled, color draining from his face. At that precise moment, a soft hoo sounded from outside, and he looked out to see a sooty owl holding a rolled up newspaper. "Ah, the Daily Prophet! Thanks!" He exclaimed, glad for at least something to distract him. He reached into his pocket and gave the owl a bit of fish that he had tried to bait a selkie with. The sooty tipped its head back to swallow the treat, then took off after providing the wizard with an affectionate nibble. Colm watched the bird as it grew smaller in the distance, thinking sadly of his own sooty owl, Ella, who had been one of the first to die by Grindelwald's persuasion. He started to unfurl the news without glancing down, and as soon as he did, he nearly fell over. Scrawled right across the front page were the words of his salvation:
DARK WIZARD DEFEATED?
GRINDELWALD CAPTURED IN NEW YORK
History was made this past Wednesday, as one of our very own from the ministry unmasked the infamous dark wizard Grindelwald. Newton Scamander of the Beast Division, on a brief visit to New York, aided in the capture of Grindelwald with the use of the beast Swooping Evil and the Revelio Charm. Grindelwald had been disguised as Percival Graves, President Picquery of MACUSA's right hand man. He is now under MACUSA custody, but it begs the question: Can America truly contain such a powerful dark wizard? Ministry auror Syrena
Colm had stopped reading as they went into the details of the report, and instead stared at his trembling fingers. Was it too good to be true? Was this finally his chance to escape? Though he doubted Grindelwald would stay out of action for long, Colm knew that he would at least be too preoccupied to remember a pathetic ministry lowlife. To make matters even better, Grindelwald's minions would be focused on freeing their leader rather than checking up with him. The news was bringing him out of his stupor, and he felt like a goblet being filled with liquid hope. All he had to do was get home in time to move his family far, far away.
He took out his wand and was about to apparate—before he remembered the tracking spell upon him. In order to ensure that he knew where his "employee" was, Grindelwald had put the Trace upon Colm, something very illegal and only used on underage wizards. This meant that any time Colm used magic, Grindelwald would know when, what, where, and exactly how to find him. If that didn't work, however, Grindelwald would have simply gone after his family.
Dread and heart crushing grief nearly overshadowed him before his sweeping gaze spied his ticket to freedom. There in the corner, rather dusty from misuse, leaned his faithful old broom. Sure, he hadn't played quidditch since his days in Hogwarts, but a Slytherin chaser never lost his skill. He snatched up the broom and practically skipped from the tent, pausing only to press the small metal dragon above the entrance. This, with a great suctioning sound, compacted the tent into nothing but a briefcase. He then scanned the area for unsuspecting muggles and was about to take off when—he saw it. A trick of the light, perhaps, or an eyelash falling in his eye, but he could have sworn he saw something silver slide from the rocks to the sea.
"Probably nothing," he told himself, "just get out of this bloody place." He rose up into the air, positioning himself in the direction he wanted to go. Unfortunately, his will was far weaker than his curiosity. He slowly turned back toward the sea, which was now filled with waves from the approaching winter gale. "This is a terrible idea, you really should be smarter than this," he chided himself, but he flew over the water anyways, eyes searching for whatever he had seen. Empty as always, the sea yielded no secrets to the wizard. He huffed in agitation, realizing once more how much of a fool he was being. Any idiot would know there was nothing, even a child that still believed the Tales of Beedle the Bard. He shook his head and, as a huge gust of wind and sleet came up, tumbled from his broom into the sea.
The first thing he processed was the shock of being wet, then the cold seeped into his bones and past his soul. He tried to gasp for breath, only to swallow a mouthful of salty liquid. Coughing and gagging, he desperately tried to swim to the surface, only to be pushed down by another wave. There was no other option now, he had to use magic. He scrambled for his wand, but in the turmoil it had slipped from his pocket and sunk to the depths. His lungs were burning, feeling like lava compared the ice that was the water. His vision dimmed, and just before he blacked out completely, he saw dappled gray fur and warm brown eyes headed straight for him.
—-
Colm awoke to the sound of retching, realizing a little too late that he was the one doing it. Lungfuls of seawater was expelled from his body as he sat on hands and seas, his chest and stomach heaving. Once he could breathe again, he collapsed, staring at the merciless gray sky. Suddenly, two large brown eyes and freckled skin replaced his view. He yelped, scrambling backwards, and managing to conk his head with somebody else's on the way. He registered a shriek come from whoever was with him, and he grunted in pain as his tender lungs protested the action.
"Ow…I think you gave me a bloody nose," a voice came from before him, accusatory yet more melodic than any music he had ever heard before. He looked up, his mouth gaping, at the most beautiful woman in the world.
She had dark brown hair that reached down to her waist, and something about the way it blew in the breeze and rested on her shoulders seemed unnaturally perfect. Her eyes were as brown as chocolate, wide and as innocent as a child's. Her cheeks were dappled with what could only be described as silver freckles, something he had never encountered. She was sitting a few meters away, clutching her nose, and glaring at him through those soft eyes. She looked around his age, somewhere in her mid twenties. Colm was suddenly very aware of his own scraggly brown hair, dirty white shirt, and torn gray trousers.
The woman scowled at his silence, looking as if she'd experienced this sort of behavior from men before.
"Well, don't just stare," she said angrily, the nasally tone of holding one's nose having no effect on her lovely voice. "Do something!"
Colm blinked rapidly, trying to force himself out of the daze this woman had sent him into. He hadn't been this distracted since…well, never, really. Being a Slytherin meant he was mostly just set on his own goals.
"Oh, um, I'm sorry," he stammered, feeling like an awkward teenager all over looked around himself, noting with a dull ache that his wand was still gone. "I—uh…well I—"
"Are you looking for this?" She interrupted, her tone demanding. With both hands removed from her nose bloodied, she held out his wand to him.
"Yes!" He exclaimed, eagerly extending a hand toward it. The woman had other plans, though, as she whipped the wand just out of his reach.
"Not so fast, wizard, how do I know you're not here with malicious intent?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Infuriated as he was, Colm's eyes decided that this was the precise time to notice that the woman was completely naked. He took a sharp intake of breath, averting his eyes from of clothing. It was as he looked away that he saw the skin of an animal lying a few meters away, faintly glowing. The skin was dappled and as silver as the moon and…the woman's freckles. His gaze flashed back to her face, and realization dawned on him.
"Y-you're a selkie!" He sputtered, knowing that this meant the pelt a little ways away was her sealskin. According to legend, selkies were creatures of the moon and the sea, women and men who, with the aid of their skin, could turn into a seal. They would shed the skin on land, becoming beautiful maidens or handsome men, each with an allure far more powerful than Amortentia. Their skin was rumored to be twice as powerful, capable of a permanent mind control that could transcend generations. It could affect the ideals and values of anyone, their devotion to the wielder causing them to change completely. It made the Unforgivable Imperius Curse practically pale in comparison. Naturally, that was only the tip of the iceberg for the selkie skins power.
The woman was on her feet faster than Colm could finish his sentence, and was already wedging herself in between her skin and him. Her eyes, so warm before, were hard, cold, and calculating.
"Say that I am," she said slowly, carefully. "What's it to you?" She looked ready to fight him, still clutching the wand in her fist. As far as he was aware, selkies themselves were not nearly as powerful as their skins. They could only use them to transform, and only had a fraction of the alluring power. They were virtually defenseless on the off chance that someone tried to steal their skin. Unless, of course, this one knew how to kick his arse. He certainly wouldn't be surprised if she came off better in a fight.
"Wait, hold on, I'm not here for the skin," he said quickly, then winced at his lie. "Well, I mean I was, but—"
"Aha!" She looked triumphant, her eyes shining as if she had wanted this situation to arise. "I knew you wizard folk were no good. Go on, try and take it, I dare you," she goaded him, positioning herself into a fighting stance with her fists raised.
Colm was dumbfounded. Did all selkies view wizards as power hungry demons? He felt rather wounded before thinking of the many wizards that had gone bad through the ages. Well, she's not far off, he admitted to himself.
"No, listen: I was supposed to find a selkie skin—well, a bit more like forced to—but the person that wanted it is no longer a problem," he explained, holing up is hands in surrender. "I am being totally honest when I say I want nothing to do with your skin." At least, not anymore. Now that Grindelwald was out of the picture, he had no desire to doom a poor creature to death. Selkies, as he had learned, did not survive long without their skin. They needed it to return to the sea, and being deprived of water was very hazardous to their health.
The woman looked crestfallen at his words. "Why should I believe you?" She asked, recovering quickly from her loss of face.
It was true, the selkie really had no reason to trust some random wizard that had been after her skin. However, part of her reasoning nagged at him.
He put his hands on his hips as well, determined to not let this woman oust him in attitude, and shot back. "If you think I'm so malicious, why did you save me?"
Though he wasn't a seeker, he had certainly just caught the snitch and won this match. The selkie was at a loss for words, her cheeks flushing and her mouth opening and closing like a fish. She was nearly as red as a tomato when she made a frustrated sound and held out his wand to him.
"Okay, fine, you've got a point. All my life I've been told horror stories about your kind—humans—and how the magical ones were far worse. I saw you camping here, watching for something, and I figured it was for me. I should have just swam away as fast as I could, but I was curious. I wanted to know if the tales were true, and then you were drowning and there was no way I was going to miss out on finding the truth. Well, that and I didn't really want you to die, but that's besides the point," she added quickly, the blush on her cheeks somehow going an even deeper shade of red.
Colm took the wand, half offended and half impressed. Sure, she had only saved him because she wanted to see if he was evil, but having the drive to even dare after being fed nightmare fuel your entire life…any Slytherin would approve. He was also intrigued by her other, albeit lesser, reason to save him. Sure, he found her gorgeous, but did she have interest in him as well?
"I understand," he replied, offering a crooked smile. Back in school, that smile had won him many an admirer. "Technically I had the chance to escape as well, but when I caught a glimpse of you in the water, I couldn't resist checking. You see how well that ended up for me."
The selkie tried her best to look stony-faced, but Colm could see she was stifling a giggle.
"You mean how you practically drowned and was dragged to shore like a bag of wet sand? I'd say that's a bit of an understatement," she raised an eyebrow at him, the faintest smile brushing her lips.
Colm laughed, knowing now that his falling head over heels for this woman was not just because of her alluring capabilities. He extended a hand to her, genuinely grinning from ear to ear.
"My name's Colm Brennan," he introduced himself.
The woman stared at his hand a moment as if wondering whether or not this was a good idea. Something within her must have won in the end, for her own smile grew wider and she took his hand.
"And mine is Aideen."
