Bad Faith Island
A Harry Potter Pirate Story
by VG Jekyll

3. Death of a Potter
Dedicated to: Lady4JackSparrow

Harry rides as if the devil himself is hot on his heels over the long, white beach. He knows exactly where Voldemort has his vessel at anchor, since the only place where you can do that without being noticed from miles away, are the Cliffs of Insanity.

It's a small and shallow bay surrounded by high, steep cliffs and quite hard to navigate to, if you haven't been there before.

After riding for miles, Harry finally sees the three high masts of his father's ship and notices only moments later that there waits a small rowing boat on the beach. One pirate stands bend over it, apparently searching for something that is under the seating plank.

Harry grits his teeth together and spurs the horse on to ride even faster. As he's almost there, the man finally looks up and Harry jumps off the horse onto the man and both land hard on the ground.

He rolls practiced onto his stomach till he is in a crouched down position and then quickly stands up. The other pirate still tries to get on his feet when Harry swings his leg towards his head and kicks him unconscious. Then he pushes the small rowing boat off the sand and jumps in it, paddling as fast as he can to the three-master, which lay at anchor not far from the shore.

On board of the ship waits Harry's father, James Potter. A small trail of blood glides over his forehead and one eye is bruised shut. He also appears to have a hard time breathing. His hands are tied in front of his body and another rope is wrapped around left ankle with a heavy cannonball on the other end.

Voldemort smirks evilly as he fishes with a hand inside his jacket and pulls a piece of parchment out. He slowly folds it open while talking to James. "I took this from our brother Bartemius last week." He taps with a finger against the map. "It's his blood on the boarders," he comments airily and then he taps almost gently against James' forehead.

"With your piece, my dear brother, all I need is Snape's."

James can feel the blood filling his mouth and spits it out onto the deck before he glares darkly at Voldemort. "I don't have it."

"Does Harry have it?"

"No."

"I think you're lying. Maybe we should just cut your throat and search for Harry instead," Voldemort states, his wicked smirk has disappeared only to be replaced by a cold, black expression.

"No! Leave my son alone! He knows nothing about it! I do have it!"

"Ah, progress; where?"

"I know it by heart."

"Then maybe we should cut your heart out?" Voldemort suggest. He turns to the pirates behind him and spreads his arms dramatically into the air. "Let's cut him open!" he yells loudly and grins bloodthirsty at his crew . The pirates yell just as enthusiastically out with both blood lust and excitement.

James coughs painfully and a few random shudders travel up his spine. He takes carefully a look around and realizes not for the first time that day, that he might not survive to see another. A quick glance over his shoulder shows how close he is to the railing and he makes a rash decision, not aware that his son is almost directly under him in a boat next to the ship and on his way to rescue him.

Voldemort and his men are surrounding him and laugh with sadistic pleasure. He glances again over his shoulder to the water and back to Voldemort. His brother's face changes as he notices the wicked glint in James' hazel eyes.

"I will see you in hell," James promises him assuringly and then he simply lets himself fall backward off the ship.

Harry can only watch startled how his father hits the water just an arms-reach away from him. "Father!" he yells out and immediately jumps after him into the water, trying to grab the man's hand while they are dragged down by the water.

On board of the ship Voldemort runs to the railing where James threw himself over just moments before. While leaning over it, he is able to briefly see Harry before the boy foolishly jumps after James, and his face twists into a scowl.

"Harry," he mutters displeased and then turns to face his crew. "Put the boats down and find them!" he quickly orders and looks sneering back at the water. Harry would not die by the sea, Voldemort knew that. No, his little nephew had some sort of magical connection with the salty liquid. It would never dare to take the boy's life.

They let the boats down and start to search around the ship.

Harry clings desperately onto his father's hand and the weight of the man and the cannonball that is still tied around the man's ankle, drag them deeper down. Harry pulls himself along the immobile body of his father and grabs the rope with one hand while trying to cut it through with the knife in his other hand.

It takes him several tries and a couple of times the knife slips away, but finally the rope is cut through and Harry grabs his father around the waist. He looks around to see where the water is lighter of color, showing that the surface was that way, but all he can see is the green seaweed that is surrounding them.

A school of small fishes swim by like silver arrows and Harry becomes scared. Which way is the surface? He already has nearly no air left. He needs air! Small spots weave strange patterns in front of his eyes and Harry kicks hard with his legs, hoping for all he's worth that he is going into the right direction.

And then he breaches the surface and gulps in the wonderful and deliciously cool air. He glances around as soon as his eyes are clear again and notices with great surprise that the sea has taken them already far away from the ship. They are now rather close to a little sand beach, that is being obstructed of sight by cliffs.

Harry drags his father onto the shore, lies him down on his side and slaps hard on his back, making the man cough and throw up water.

"Father?"he turns James around so he can lie more comfortable on his back and then let his fingers glide concerned over the man's eye, which looks even more bruised on the now pale face. "You'll be alright, I promise!"

"No Harry," James says and coughs again, a trail of blood leaves the corner of his mouth. "My lungs hurt. I think it-it hurts so much. Too much. Listen, Voldemort wants the map. You need to keep it away from him!"

"The map? You mean the map to Bad Faith Island? But you said that you'd gambled it away!"

James smiles wryly up at his one and only son. "I lied," he admits and closes exhausted his eyes as an involuntary shudder courses through his body again.

"Father! Don't leave me!" Harry grabs James shoulders and tears accompany the seawater on his face.

"Listen t-The map is-On my heart," gasps James with difficulty. "Go-Get Remus-'Lily's Revenge'-'s yours."

"No! This ain't happenin'! Father, please! Stay with me!"

James smiles with a blissful look in his eyes at Harry. "Lily. So proud…"

He passes away with a content smile on his face and Harry screams loudly with heartburn, before he drops himself on his father's body and starts to weep. His whole upper body racks with sobs as the seawater laps at the feet of the body of his father. Almost as if trying to reclaim him again with the desire to drag him deep down to Davey Jones' Locker.

Harry finally pushes himself up and stares down at his father's motionless face. He strokes a few locks off James' forehead and then his hand trails down a path over his neck. He stops at the opening of the shirt, pushes it away and then his fingers graze something cold. He pulls it out and then stares puzzled at the necklace he's holding.

It's an amulet.

A silver round medal that is as big as his palm. On it are strange lines, making some sort of star, with odd runes among the lines and Harry sees, as he turns it around, a foreign language written on the back.

"This is the map?" he asks, but of course gets no answer.

He stands up and stares at his father's body again, but this time with dry eyes.

"I will avenge you, father. Mark my words: Voldemort's head will dangle from the highest mast of 'Lily's Revenge'!"

To Be Continued