The ship was docked. The ship had been anchored! So why was it MOVING?
Despite these thoughts drifting through his mind, Harry's ship kept moving. Sailors rushed around him, frantic, when the anchor suddenly appeared out of thin air, slung over the side of the ship.
But the anchor wasn't quite how it had looked before... it had pearl-pale hairs stuck to it, and shimmering fish scales wound around its base. The fish scales glowed silver, yet in some places, the deepest, darkest black Harry had ever seen stained them.
Then the eyes peeked around it. Oh, those eyes.
But the beautiful, beautiful eyes were less interesting then what was attached to them.
A mermaid. He'd heard stories, of how their fish tails enabled them to swim faster than men, how their looks entranced humans so much they'd die for them.
And he'd heard stories about how they often did.
The mermaid unwound herself from the anchor and lay against it, regarding them. She didn't seem perturbed at how they all had some sort of weapon aimed at her; she was as serene as the sea herself.
"Hello," she said, in a voice that was beauty compressed into a sound. "I'm dreadfully sorry about the intrusion. My cousins, orange ocellaris clownfish tails, you know, threw me up here for suitors. Who's the captain?"
Harry stepped forward. "I am. Why do you ask?"
"Because you're the suitor."
Suddenly, she leaped at him, and slithered over the side, dragging him with her. They fell down, down, down...
to be continued
