Voldemort wasn't sure about how he felt about sea travel. In his youth, he had used some kinds of Muggle transport when he wanted to avoid unnecessary attention from the Ministry. Trains were smooth, yes, but they were always so cramped and hot. Only once had he taken a Muggle taxi while in London, and that was an atrocious nightmare. His driver barely understood where he wanted to go, and it had to be the slowest way to travel when he compared it to almost every kind of magical transport out there, Floo Network included. However, this way of moving was so… odd. They could travel quickly with the wind, but when the elements died, the ship drifted along with agonizing slowness.
Therefore, as he stood at the helm of the ship, feeling a great sense of power as his vessel pierced through the ocean's strong waves, he decided he had a neutral opinion on travel by boat. It would have been relaxing if he wasn't in such a hurry to get somewhere. His companions, William Turner and 'Captain' Jack Sparrow, had verbally sparred earlier in the day regarding Will's family and their status as pirates. It was inconsequential to Voldemort, so he left the two to argue and instead opted to explore the bowels of the ship. It wasn't particularly large, but he staked out a nice little corner that was only marginally wet to use later for sleeping and other slightly unnecessary tasks. When he returned to the deck, he was informed that they were going to a small port to recruit men. Apparently, if they wished to combat the pirates who took the Mudblood – and therefore his Time Turner – they would need a much bigger crew. The thought of more delays was, in a word, infuriating, but he somehow managed to keep his cool long enough to assure the men he was open to almost anything, at which point they dispersed to see to various tasks around the ship.
Voldemort had already expressed his complete and utter uselessness when it came to anything mechanical with the ship, so Sparrow put him at the wheel. Their course was already set, and it was his job to ensure they didn't drift anywhere else. Occasionally he would turn it, earning him a shout from the Turner fellow, but Voldemort only did it to see a rise from the young man. His sense of valour, honour and love was nauseating, and whenever they were alone, Turner only spoke about his girl, his Elizabeth, and how eager he was to find her. Yes, that was useful. Sparrow seemed more focused on getting a crew to go after the pirates, with the girls as an afterthought; both, in their own ways, would serve him in the end.
Their destination was a place called Tortuga. Based on the men's reactions to the port town, he had a sinking suspicion he was going to dislike it immensely. Turner seemed less than impressed with the idea, but Sparrow nearly bounced around the ship at the prospect; based on Sparrow's overall odor, he had to assume that the little town was going to be full of drunks. As long as they weren't there for days, he was fine with the slight detour. Mind you, the longer the Mudblood was with a band of rogue pirates, the more chances she had to annoy one of them enough to end her. While that was of little consequence to him personally, he knew he would have to at least bring her body back to the present (dead or alive) in order to avoid tampering with time too much. Naturally, they had done enough as it was, but they shouldn't do more than necessary.
Although, he had been pondering on that topic during his hours of spare time on the open ocean, and he tried to find the downside of altering the past to ensure a more successful future. It couldn't be anything dramatic, mind you, but if he somehow found his way to England, and by chance happened upon Potter's ancestors… Perhaps he could eliminate the chance of the boy being born and then sullying his first venture into domination of the wizarding world. That was a far cry from where he was now, yes, but it could always be a possibility. To do so, he would need to ensure Malfoy and the Mudblood were with him, least they do something – inadvertently or on purpose – to spoil any potential future plans.
There was still a considerable amount of issues to be worked out if he did want to do something, and at this point he simply focused on finding the Mudblood. Once he found her, they simply needed to find Lucius – which, if he had done his part right, shouldn't be too difficult. The aristocrat was essentially working on the same task as Turner and Sparrow at this point, and they were all in it to find that Elizabeth girl, and by extension the Mudblood. When he had the two of them in tow, he had no problem dragging them somewhere private and apparating back to a secure location; from there, he could decide if he wanted to go back with history unaltered or not.
For now, he stood at the front of the ship, hands behind his back and wand tucked securely up the jacket of his sleeve. He had been staring at nothing but water for some time now, lost in his own thoughts, and hadn't noticed the arrival of Sparrow. The smell was the only thing that alerted him of the man's presence, and his eyes flickered slightly to the left, making him flinch when he spotted Jack Sparrow leaning on the ship's railing beside him, right up and in his personal space. He blinked quickly and took a step to the side, refusing to completely give up his position at the helm just because someone else invaded his space.
"I thought we had you minding the ship," Sparrow started, hands folded neatly across his chest, an eyebrow cocked.
"I am," Voldemort remarked tightly.
"Well, if we end up drifting with the wind, what do you plan to do about it?" the man inquired, nodding back across the ship to the wheel. "Stare at the water?"
"We're fine. Still going straight."
The man retrieved something that was hanging off the side of his belt, and Voldemort soon saw that it was a compass. Sparrow opened the contraption and pointed it out ahead of him, head cocked to the side as the little needle spun about. Voldemort leaned only just a hint, but before he could read the direction, the man snapped the box back shut and stuffed it back onto his belt.
"Still headed east," Sparrow commented. "You're born for the sea, mate."
Voldemort sensed a bit of sarcasm in the man's tone, and he resisted the urge to draw out his wand and stab him in the eye. Couldn't use magic, after all… Instead, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty sea air, and then turned back toward the rear of the ship.
"Perhaps I should return to my post then."
"You know," Sparrow began after he took a few steps, "I don't quite understand you."
He paused, "What?"
"Turner's easy to read," the man explained, sauntering after him slowly. Voldemort turned back, quickly spotting the sword on the pirate's belt, and biding his time in the case of a sudden attack. "I mean, the boy's out here for his girl-"
"As am I," Voldemort said quickly, which made the man grin suddenly, showing off a handsome set of filthy teeth, a hint of gold glittering.
"See, that's where I think you're a liar," Sparrow insisted, taking a few wide strides and suddenly stopping in front of him. "You don't exactly look like the type to go on a daring adventure for some girl."
"Then I suppose you aren't very adept at reading people," Voldemort countered, his eyebrows shooting up. He would need to find a mirror somewhere to ensure his magical appearance wasn't wearing off, but thus far, no one had commented on seeing any changes.
"I think I do a fair job," Sparrow remarked, a hint more seriousness to his tone. Voldemort spotted an eye twitch, and the man leaned in, "Why are you really so persistent on coming along?"
"Why does it matter?" he asked, hands balling into fists, "As long as I do my part, I don't think my motives should be up for discussion."
"But see, you don't really have a part," the man insisted, matching Voldemort's attempt to step around him, "and I'm curious."
"What do you get out of it?" Voldemort asked, "She isn't your girl. Neither of them are…"
"I suspect one of them isn't yours either."
He sucked in his cheeks, irritated. Had he really been that transparent? Love – or even infatuation – had always been a difficult one for him to fake. With women it seemed to work just fine, as a little flirtation went a long way, but it seemed someone was finally perceptive enough – despite his slightly drunken outer appearance – to catch him. However, despite the fact the pirate seemed to be trying to make him slip up, he didn't seem to have any other obvious agenda. His body language was not aggressive, nor did he sound taunting… Voldemort decided he could give a little, but he had to play his game carefully, as always.
"The girl is very important to me… right now," Voldemort worded carefully.
"Ahh…"
"She has something I want," he finished. That was all he planned to divulge, but he wasn't sure if that was all Sparrow would let him get away with. There was a moment of silence, a moment that others might consider tense, and Voldemort cocked his head to the side, awaiting a verdict.
Sparrow grinned again, "They've all got something we want, don't they?"
He wasn't particularly sure what the man was hinting at, but it seemed that he was finally going to let the issue drop. Voldemort gave him a hint of a smile, and it seemed as though they had come to some sort of odd understanding. He wasn't exactly a worthy opponent, but unlike the slightly straighter, easy to gauge Will Turner, this man might prove to be a little more useful in the near future than he had initially expected. However, this could simply be his persona when he's sober; if the stench was any indication of his normal state, Voldemort may not need to contend with him for much longer.
Sparrow strolled toward the rear of the ship, hopping up the steps to take his place in front of the wheel. Hands clasped behind his back, Voldemort followed him, eying him curiously.
"Tell me, Mr. Sparrow," he started, his eyes trained on the man's face. The evening was late, but the sky was impeccably clear. The moon illuminated the entire craft perfectly, but Sparrow's hat cast some shadows across his features. "Now, why does one become a pirate?"
The man placed his dirty hands on the large wooden wheel, contemplating his answer for a moment, and then shot Voldemort a smirk, "Girls."
"Really?"
"Well, there's the usual things," Sparrow carried on, ticking off each reason. "There's the money, the women… getting around the law with no repercussions…"
"No repercussions?" Voldemort repeated, "As I recall, we rescued you from a prison."
"Minor setback," the man fired back with a shrug. "It all seemed to work out… ended up with a ship."
"I suppose."
They settled into silence, and Voldemort leaned on the railing in front of the steering wheel, staring out onto the dark waters. The wind picked up suddenly; he felt the vessel rocking a little as Sparrow wrestled with the wheel to keep the boat from drifting.
"You know the best thing about being a captain of a pirate ship?" Sparrow asked after some time. Voldemort glanced back at him, an eyebrow arched, "Infamy… My name is known in every port, and when your name is in history, you get immortality."
"Immortality?" Voldemort repeated, "From people knowing your name?"
"Next best thing until I can find actual immortality, mate," the man insisted somewhat dreamily. Voldemort studied him over his shoulder, noting that there was a flicker of seriousness on his face for a brief moment, "Some people believe there are real ways to get immortality… in legend."
"I don't doubt that."
Sparrow seemed surprised, and he focused his attention on Voldemort, "Don't you?"
"There are some things in this world that can give you a very long life," Voldemort explained tightly.
"Most people think it's only the soul-"
"The body can live too," Voldemort insisted, finding himself interested in this specific topic, seeing as it was one that he studied intensely for decades.
Sparrow's eyes narrowed at him a hint, "Are you a spiritual man?"
"No."
"Do you believe in the supernatural at all?"
He pursed his lips, "I…do."
"There is magic in this world," Sparrow insisted, "and being captain of a ship as a man who can never die… Well, it's bound to be something we all dream about."
Voldemort nodded, returning his gaze to the water in silence.
"Do you think I'm insane?"
"Not in the slightest bit," Voldemort answered honestly. Even if he hadn't found his own form of immortality, he could appreciate the desire to have one's name in the history books for eternity. "I've found a method to achieve some kind of immortality…"
"Care to share it?"
Voldemort smirked a little, and continued to stare straight out over the dark sea, "I'll make you a deal, Sparrow."
"Hmm?"
"You find my girl before Turner's, and I'll let you in on my secrets," Voldemort offered, hands clasped neatly behind his back, "and my secrets are successful, I assure you."
"And how do you know that?"
"Personal experience," Voldemort replied, his tones clipped. He turned back to face the man, taking a stand directly in front of him, "There is magic in this world that you can scarcely imagine. Find my girl first, bring her to me intact with her belongings, and I will let you in on what I know…"
It wouldn't be a complete lie. If Sparrow proved himself, Lord Voldemort always rewards his successful servants. However, he would have to figure out exactly what he would give him in return for his services. Certainly not immortality by any means, but there would be something – perhaps in the Mudblood's endless bags of goodies – that he could give a worthwhile supporter, even if it was a Muggle. He wasn't about to ought himself as a wizard, but if Sparrow already had an inkling toward some sort of magic in this world, there had to be something he could use that was dumbed enough to keep his true secrets safe.
He waited for the man to respond, and he seemed to be contemplating his options. However, after a moment or so, he held out his hand, dirty and wrapped in some sort of sullied bandage, "Deal. I'll get you the girl you need but don't care for, and you help me with your… magic."
Voldemort smiled, a lie in his eyes, and shook the man's hand, "Deal."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
SORRY! I know, I know, long time no update. It's probably going to happen again because exams are coming up for me in the near future, but then I'm done for the year. Huzzzzzaaaahhh! Freedom!
There was also going to be much more to this chapter, but when I finished this section, it felt acceptable to end it here. We'll be checking back in with Hermione and her situation in the next chapter somewhere in the near future – fingers crossed!
I think writing Jack and Voldemort together is actually super interesting, because both of them will manipulate the people around them to get exactly what they want. I don't think I'll be doing a Jack point-of-view section at any point, so we won't really know how much Jack believes Voldemort, or what his true aim is. Will Voldemort get played? Would that be surprising? Hmm. Excited.
