Once again, fredfred deserves huge thanks for betaing. His help has improved the story a lot.

Chapter 25: The Abyss

'In certain circles, it has been said that the Dark Arts are merely a legal definition. That certain curses and rituals are called dark simply because they are banned by the authorities, but that there is no inherent difference between a curse and a dark curse.

This is incorrect. The Dark Arts aren't dark because they are illegal - they are illegal in most civilised countries because they are dark. That dark curses are different is obvious to anyone with even a superficial knowledge of magic: Unlike wounds caused by normal spells, injuries caused by dark curses cannot be healed by magical means. A victim of a dark curse, even if they survive, is usually left with hideous scars and chronic pain - something many dark wizards not only accept but actively desire.

However, this is merely the most obvious aspect of the Dark Arts. Their true danger is more subtle - and threatens its users. It has been said that the Dark Arts are seductive. That those who practise them are slowly corrupted, compelled to use more and more dark spells until they are but a twisted shadow of themselves. This isn't entirely accurate. There is - with certain exceptions - no magical compulsion to use the Dark Arts. Such a compulsion could be guarded and defended against. The danger of the Dark Arts is far more insidious. Dark curses are, as a general rule, both easier to cast and more effective than normal spells. And so even those not particularly gifted in Charms can be quite effective in a battle should they use the Dark Arts. Talented wizards and witches, on the other hand, become a veritable terror on the battlefield once they wield the Dark Arts.

Sometimes, a future dark wizard starts with the best intentions. They want to use the Dark Arts to defend their loved ones, to bring down a dark wizard or defeat a dangerous beast. One curse, or two, won't doom them, will it? And in the beginning, this seems to be true. But the lure of the Dark Arts will grow. Every time such a wizard fights without using the Dark Arts, they will feel as if they have handicapped themselves. And who would risk defeat or even death by not giving their all in a battle? As such, it won't take much to make the wizard resort to the Dark Arts again. A loved one in danger, a close call in a fight, a cursed wound - there are many reasons to use the Dark Arts, once you've started. And each time, it'll grow easier. Feel more natural. Feel more normal.

The wizard will tell themselves that they have it under control. That they could stop using them whenever they want to. But, like addicts, they will find excuse after excuse to keep using the Dark Arts for just one more fight - never realising that they have already lost the most important battle.

For the Dark Arts deal in pain and cruelty. The more you use them, the more you will get used to them - and to pain and cruelty in general.

And, given the nature of dark curses, the more you fight using the Dark Arts, the more people will want to take revenge on you for the mutilations your curses have inflicted upon them - or for the loss of a loved one. A vicious cycle starts which generally only ends with the user's death - usually at the hands of another budding dark wizard.'

- Excerpt from 'The Danger of the Dark Arts' by Geraldine Nott, London, 1930

London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 9th, 2001

"What's the verdict?" Hermione Granger asked, standing in the garden between the Range Rover and Mr Mallory's tent - the man had gone straight back to brewing, or so he claimed.

Atop the car, Arthur smiled. "Some of the spells need to be recast, but the repairs are sound. It looks like Molly paid more attention to my hobby than she's admitted. Another day or two, and it's fixed."

They didn't have another day. "We've set up the sphere in the cellar," she told him.

"Alright." He slowly nodded. She knew he wanted to finish the car first. But they didn't have the time to spare. The longer they stayed in Britain, the greater the likelihood of further and more dangerous attacks. On them and their families.

Arthur climbed down from the roof of the car, and they walked towards the back entrance. "Percy said The Burrow wasn't damaged," he told her.

She nodded. They had survived the bounty hunter attack without casualties. The Burrow still stood, and the damage done to the Range Rover could be repaired without too much trouble. However, Hermione feared that the physical damage the attack had done was the least of their concerns.

"You want to continue with your plans?"

Molly wasn't yelling, but, in Hermione's opinion, she came close. She could hear her voice through the door to the kitchen.

She glanced at Arthur. He wasn't looking at her, but at the door, and his lips were pressed together. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Inside the kitchen, Molly was glaring at Ron and Ari. "Bounty hunters found you here - despite our precautions. They broke through our wards and almost killed us all! And you want to leave for the Caribbean, where you'll be defenceless?"

"Mum! We won't be defenceless - we'll be hiding. No one will find us," Ron said.

"And if anyone does, we'll kill them," Ari added.

"They will come at you in numbers, as they did today!" Molly retorted. "Can you take a dozen bounty hunters? Or the Storm Wizards?"

"If they can find us in the middle of nowhere, they can find us in Britain as well," Hermione pointed out.

"We don't want to endanger you, Mum," Ron said in a softer voice than Hermione had expected.

"I don't want you to endanger yourselves!" Molly replied with a sniffle.

Hermione looked at the spice racks above the stove. She didn't want to see the tears forming on Molly's face.

"Molly…" Arthur said. "We can't keep them safe here."

"No one knows we're here."

"Enough suspect," he replied. "They won't be safe here for long."

Molly was crying now, Hermione noticed. And holding Arthur. Hermione pressed her lips together and tried to ignore the sobs. And the guilt she felt. But Arthur was right: They wouldn't be safe in Britain. Not from the Storm Wizards.

London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 10th, 2001

"Lunch will be ready in half an hour, Young Master."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry Potter said.

"Should I inform the squatter in the garden as well?"

Harry suppressed a sigh. Kreacher hadn't taken to Mallory. Well, no one had, really. The man's insistence on using his tent to brew his potion, for all Harry could understand the need for privacy when it came to dealing with a blood curse, didn't endear him to most hosts. "Please do so," he said. "He is, all things considered, a guest." Even though the man was pretty much living in his tent as well.

"Yes, Young Master." Kreacher sniffed and vanished into the hidden passage in the wall he had used to enter the house's workroom. Or the lab, as Harry liked to call it.

"What did Kreacher say?" Hermione asked from inside the sphere. Harry could see her back through the window.

"Lunch'll be ready in half an hour," he repeated the house-elf's information.

"It's so late already?" Hermione's head appeared in the top hatch. "We're behind schedule!"

"Barely," Harry heard Arthur say from inside the sphere - which had been extended, of course. "We'll finish this on time, no need to worry." Especially since the original plans to copy the machinery around the sphere and add spear guns had been cancelled. They would deploy just the sphere.

Well, they might not need to worry about that, Harry thought. But there were plenty of other things to worry about. Like Auntie, Sirius and the others were playing bait. They hadn't heard from them since they had been informed of the plan. If they had made a mistake and the Storm Wizards had pinned them… And there were still bounty hunters to consider. The Burrow had been attacked already - what if they went after the rest of the Weasley family? Ginny and Luna were on an expedition, but they wouldn't have started hiding until they received the warning, so their trail might be known. And the twins had a famous shop in Diagon Alley. Charlie should be safe, being at a dragon preserve in Romania - the Romanians really didn't like the Ottomans, too - but who knew what some bounty hunters might think? And Percy was, like Arthur, a prominent Ministry employee. At least the Grangers were safe, but they would be angry at magical trouble upsetting their lives once more.

He sighed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked as she climbed out of the sphere. "And don't say nothing," she added before he could reply.

He chuckled. She knew him too well. "I was thinking about your parents," he said. She looked confused for a moment. "They must hate that they have to be in hiding again because of us."

"Mum and Dad understand that this is not our fault," she told him.

"Doesn't mean they won't resent it," he replied.

"Oh, please." She shook her head. "They know better."

Harry nodded, though he didn't share her optimism. He lowered his voice - Arthur was inside the sphere. "I'm also worried about Auntie, Sirius and the Weasleys." This time, she winced. "I know it's not our fault, but…"

"I know," she said. "But we have to find Atlantis and secure it before anything else.."

He nodded. But even if they beat the Storm Wizards to Atlantis and managed to get the ICW to secure the site, they still would have to be wary of attacks. Neither Kohlmeier nor the Ottomans were the sort to forgive and forget. "But once that's done, we'll have to do something about this whole mess."

"Yes. I'm sick of running and hiding," she replied with a scowl.

"Everyone is, I think." Harry snorted. "Well, maybe not Mallory. He's been hiding in his tent all day."

"He probably has to brew a lot of potions," Hermione said, though her frown looked half-hearted to Harry. "Having to flee from The Burrow has likely disrupted his schedule and ruined his previous efforts."

He shrugged. "We can't help him if he doesn't tell us anything." And that was Mallory's own fault.

London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 11th, 2001

"It's finished!" Dad proclaimed, standing in front of the sphere. "A fully-functional deep-submergence vessel! It can do everything the original could do, and more besides!" He was smiling, Ron Weasley noted - a rare occurrence since the attack on The Burrow.

"Though I really think that you should wait until the Range Rover is fully repaired," Dad added.

"We can't," Ron said. Dad wasn't trying to keep them in the - dubious - safety of Grimmauld Place. "And we need a ship for this expedition, not a car. Even if it could swim," he added with a wry grin.

His dad sighed. "A few more days… but I understand. Your mother won't, though."

"As long as she accepts it…" Ron shrugged and told himself that they had no choice. They had waited too long already - had been forced to by the bounty hunters' attack. And if they waited any longer, another attack would come. The right choice was to leave Britain, find Atlantis, then use that discovery to get the rest of their problems fixed.

He still felt guilty.

"What ship will you use?"

"I don't know. Harry was looking into purchasing a muggle ship. A yacht."

"Those won't be easy to hide," Dad pointed out. He didn't have to add 'and not easy to protect' - both of them were aware of how fragile muggle vessels were.

"It'll hide among the many other muggle yachts in the Caribbean," he said. In theory, at least. "But purchasing a wizarding ship would tell everyone where we are - people will be looking for us."

"Your previous troubles with the law aren't helping there."

Ron pressed his lips together. That wasn't their fault, either! But he nodded in agreement. "That's the reason we can't charter a ship, either."

Ari scoffed from where she was lying on top of the car, reading a muggle magazine - 'Yachting', Ron thought. "As long as they don't betray us they have nothing to fear."

"They wouldn't know that," he replied.

"The houngans hate us, and everyone else hates them. They should love us."

He chuckled. "Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that." Not in the New World, at least.

"Stupid." Ari scoffed again and went back to reading her magazine.

"How will you travel? By muggle ship again?" Dad wasn't asking where they were going, of course. What he didn't know others couldn't make him say.

Ron shook his head as he cast a few spells to check the sphere. Just in case. "Chartered muggle jet."

"Oh…" Dad smiled. "I wish I could come along."

"Mum would curse you."

"She'll warm up to aeroplanes. Eventually."

Ron nodded, but he doubted that. His mum hadn't changed her opinion on muggle planes being death traps as long as he could remember. Dad blamed his decision to take her to watch 'Airplane' in 1980 for that. Ron thought all the muggle reports about plane crashes were to blame. "Once all this is sorted out, we can take you for a flight."

"That would be wonderful!"

Ron nodded. "Well, I'll tell Harry and Hermione that the sphere's finished."

"When will you depart?"

"Probably today," Ron replied.

"Then you should tell your mother as well, son."

Ron winced. He hated seeing his mum cry. And she would.

Virgin Islands, Beef Island, Terrance B. Lettsome International Airport, December 12th, 2001

"Do you see anyone?" Ron Weasley asked in a whisper as he watched Mr and Mrs Smith leave the Gulfstream Harry had chartered. They walked a little unsteadily, but the muggle authorities should blame the long flight for that, not the fact that the couple had been obliviated and didn't remember any other passengers on the plane.

"No one in range of my spell," Harry whispered back.

"I don't smell anyone either," Ari added. "Only the stupid perfume of Mrs Smith."

"Then it should be safe to leave the plane," Harry said. "Not that it's likely that anyone would suspect anything."

Ron certainly hoped that no one would - they had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this trip to avoid any suspicion. Done a lot of questionable things, too - obliviating the Smiths, the crew of the jet, several customs officers… At least the Smiths had already been booked on a trip to the Virgin Islands, so they were better off all round, even if they thought they had won an upgrade in a contest, and the crew had been hired for this trip. Still, even Hermione agreed that the details of this trip would be best kept private.

"If we wait any longer," Mallory added in a cranky voice, "then we risk the plane taking off again for the flight back to England."

"It would need to refuel first," Hermione corrected him. "But, yes, we should move. We would be at a disadvantage if we were attacked inside the plane."

"Yes," Harry said. "Let's sneak out of here. We need to get to the rental agency on Tortola and get our yacht."

And then sail the two hundred miles or so to Atlantis, hoping that the Storm Wizards hadn't beaten them to it. Before diving to depths no wizard had reached so far.

Reaching the Virgin Islands without anyone noticing had been the easy part.

Virgin Islands, Tortola, Road Town, December 12th, 2001

"This Horizon 70 yacht is a dream come true! Brand new - less than two years old - and state of the art. A true luxury yacht, with the sleek lines of a Mediterranean yacht but rated for the high seas, it is perfect for the Caribbean Sea! Two engines, a thousand horsepower each, guarantee that you won't ever be left drifting even if one of them breaks down - which they won't! And the interior!"

Hermione Granger had to force herself to keep smiling as the manager from the bareboat charter company continued to prattle, heaping praises on a ship they had already agreed to charter even before they had left Britain.

"Very nice! How does she handle at top speed?" And Harry was playing along!

"Oh, like a dream, Mr Brown! Really easy - cruise at twelve knots to save fuel, but if you just want to get to port before rough weather reaches you, twenty-five knots will see you there!" The man turned to flash golden teeth at her. "And have you seen the galley, Mrs Brown? It's fit for a high-class restaurant! The freezer will hold enough food for your entire cruise!"

Hermione wanted to curse the man. Dazzle Harry with the engine specifications, but tell her about the galley, would he? She bared her teeth a little. "I'm not much of a cook," she told him. "I'm more interested in the navigation system."

The man didn't even blink or stop smiling as he started to tell her everything about the yacht's navigation system. She knew most of it already, of course - as if she would agree to charter a boat without ensuring that her navigation systems were sufficiently precise for their needs - but it was always good to check the promised goods in such a deal. She would rather not waste days diving at the wrong spot - not that the location 'Opha' had given them was very precise to begin with, of course. But compounding that with imprecise navigation would only make things worse.

But it seemed as if the manager wasn't trying to con them, she realised as she went over the navigation system with him. Everything was working as it should, especially the GPS. "Thank you, Mr Hill," she said once they were done. "Everything seems to be in order."

"Of course!" he added with a faked expression of wounded pride.

"So I'm sorry about this," she added, drawing her wand. "Obliviate."

It wouldn't do to have the man spread gossip about her interest in the navigation system. Much better, she thought as she altered his memories, to have him talk about a trophy wife of a boring banker, both hardly able to tell starboard from port, obviously having bought their licence, but too stupid to hire a professional skipper. That would, or so she hoped, also explain why a couple would charter a yacht with far more cabins than they needed.

Caribbean Sea, East of Puerto Rico, December 13th, 2001

Harry Potter, standing at the helm of the 'Belle Epoque', suppressed a sigh when he heard steps behind him. With Ron and Ari sunning themselves on the deck in front of him, and Hermione fiddling with the anchors at the bow - she was working on spelling them to work without having to actually touch the seabed - it could only be Mallory. Ghosts didn't make a sound even when they pretended to walk instead of float.

"Something the matter, Mr Mallory?" he asked, without taking his eyes off the sea ahead of the yacht.

"Ah, I'm merely curious how this ship works."

"Hermione could explain it better than I could."

"She's busy," Mallory replied.

Harry could see that of course. Ah, well… "It's easy," he said. "This is the helm, and this controls the speed."

"Like a car?"

Mallory was a muggleborn, Harry reminded himself, even if he didn't act like it too often. "Not quite the same, but similar." He wasn't about to go into detail about turning circles and braking distance. "It's meant for tourists, after all. Not professional sailors." Which wasn't exactly true, but conveyed the truth well enough.

"I see."

Harry doubted that. "Do you want to take the helm and try it out?"

"Ah… I think I better stick to being a passenger." Mallory looked at the sea for a moment. "How much longer until we arrive?"

"We're taking a circumspect route," Harry told him. "In case we're being followed. We haven't spotted anyone, yet, but it's easy to follow us from a distance." They couldn't exactly hide on the open sea. And the Human-presence-revealing Charm's range was far from good. Hermione had sent out a number of disillusioned bats, and Ari had been sniffing the air whenever the wind changed, but neither had detected anyone or anything. "A squall would be best to lose a potential pursuer, but…" He gestured at the shining blue sea and clear sky. "So we're playing muggle tourists." And hoping that they weren't being chased.

"Couldn't you disillusion the yacht?"

"It's too big for that." They had already discussed that a day ago. Of course, Dumbledore would probably be able to do it despite the yacht's size. "We could change the ship's appearance somewhat, with a Colour Change Charm, but that won't fool anyone smart enough to find us. Our best bet is to disguise ourselves." Which they had done with hats, wigs and sunglasses.

"We might be able to change the lines as well. People used to do that with fake funnels."

"Well, these types of ships don't have big funnels any more," Harry pointed out. "I guess we could add some fake superstructure, but that might draw attention from muggles who know this class of yacht."

"I dislike trusting our fate to the assumption that we succeeded in fooling our enemies."

Mallory wasn't the only one. But Harry wasn't about to admit that.

Sometimes, you had no choice and had to deal with the curse in place under less than ideal conditions. Besides, they had put up a few protections on the yacht already. At the very least, they should have enough warning to be ready for a fight.

Or to flee, of course.

Caribbean Sea, North of Puerto Rico, December 14th, 2001

"Alright… we're on the spot that corresponds to the location 'Ophas' showed us on the map," Hermione announced, "and the enchanted anchors are holding us in place."

Ron Weasley nodded. "The sphere's ready," he said. "I've double-checked the spells. A test drive wouldn't hurt, of course." With an emergency Portkey to Tortola, in case the muggle device turned out to be unable to withstand the pressure. Dad did good work, but this was the first deep-submergence vehicle he had enchanted, and he might have missed something crucial. He flicked his wand and levitated the sphere over the side of the yacht, gently lowering it into the sea. As designed, it stayed afloat, and a quick Sticking Charm kept it fixed to the yacht's hull.

"We'll dive slowly; that should be enough to test the vessel," Hermione told him.

"Alright! Let's raise the scuba flag and get ready to go where no wizard has gone before!" Harry said with a wide grin on his face.

Hermione was already climbing over the railing. A moment later, she stood on top of the sphere, checking the spells.

Ron refrained from commenting that his dad didn't do shoddy work - a good Curse-Breaker double- and triple-checked everything before trusting it.

"Flag's up!" Harry announced.

Ari leaned on the railing and watched Hermione open the hatch. Ron joined her.

"Shouldn't someone remain on the yacht?" Mallory asked.

"That's what the flag is for. Anyone approaching us will know to keep their distance," Harry replied.

"They might still approach and think we've abandoned the ship," Mallory retorted.

"Well, you can stay on the yacht," Ari said, "if you're worried about that. It's just a rental, and we've got everything we need for the expedition stowed aboard the sphere."

Mallory pressed his lips together in a deep frown. Of course, he wouldn't stay back. Not after being basically told that they could stay underwater until they found Atlantis. "I won't miss this," he said.

Ron grinned and gestured at the sphere.

"Everything looks fine," he heard Hermione's voice through the hatch as Ari climbed over the railing and then through the hatch. Mallory was next, almost losing his balance when he stood on the sphere, but the older wizard managed to avoid falling into the sea.

"Didn't forget anything on board?" Ron asked Harry as his friend joined him at the railing.

"We took everything," Harry said. He suddenly chuckled. "I just thought of something: If the yacht does get found by muggles, they'll have another mystery on their hands, and the legend of the Bermuda Triangle will grow," he explained.

Ron had to admit that was funny. A little. Hermione wouldn't think so, of course. "After you," he said. Once Harry had climbed down and had gone through the hatch, he followed him and dispelled the Sticking Charm. The sphere started to drift away from the yacht at once, and he hastily climbed down the hatch.

Inside, several Extension Charms ensured that the originally tiny space could hold several bedrooms, lots of storage rooms, a galley and a bridge fit for a battleship. Or a spaceship. Although the thick window that allowed them to look out was unchanged, which meant the helmsman had to be right in front of it. Or helmswoman, in this case - Hermione was at the helm. But there were comfortable seats arranged in a semi-circle behind her. Ron picked the one next to Ari's. The one further away from Mallory's.

"Sphere unstuck, hatch closed and locked," he reported. Hermione was aware of that already, but it felt like the right thing to say.

"Dive!" Harry, sitting right behind Hermione, said with a wide grin. "Go down to three hundred feet and hold!"

"We're not in a submarine," Hermione said with a glance over her shoulder. But the sphere tilted slightly and started to move. Ron could see the hull of the yacht disappear from view almost at once as they dived deeper.

A minute into the dive, Hermione flicked her wand, casting a detection spell. "No sign of a leak or undue stress on the hull. Everything's working as it should."

Ron checked himself, of course, then confirmed her report.

"Good," Harry said. "Let's go down to the seabed! Atlantis is waiting!"

Hermione had told them about the 'eternal darkness' under the sea, and he had watched a number of videos covering such expeditions, but Ron Weasley found that the reality was quite different. Even in the extended interior of the sphere, enough room for ten times their number, he felt a little claustrophobic. The knowledge that the water pressure outside would squash the sphere like a troll stomping on an empty can should the steel fail wasn't very reassuring. Not at all. How did the others stand it? Apart from the two ghosts, of course - no amount of water pressure would affect them.

He glanced around. Mallory was pale and sweating, and Ron was certain it wasn't caused by the blood curse on the man. Hermione was focused on piloting the sphere, and Harry… well, Harry looked a little nervous, at least. But did he fear a 'sudden and complete structural failure', as Hermione had called it, or that they were too late and someone else had found Atlantis already? Or that the Storm Wizards had captured the others?

He felt Ari's hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. How did she stand it? She had no experience with muggle devices. Or submarines.

"Relax," she told him in a whisper. "You checked the spells yourself, didn't you?"

"Doesn't mean nothing can go wrong," he replied in a low voice.

"So far things have worked." She frowned. "Well, without enemies sabotaging us. And we didn't let anyone at the sphere."

That was true. Not even Mallory had been left alone with the vessel. Still… five miles under the sea? Who knew what monsters lived here? So far, all they had spotted were some fishes attracted by the light spells the sphere used. But a few of them had been very big.

She squeezed harder. "I said relax!"

"Sorry." He grinned at her.

"Besides, we're making history!" Hermione cut in. "No wizard has ever reached such depths."

"I can see the headlines in the Prophet already," Harry added: "Potter reaches new low!"

It wasn't that funny - not really, given their current situation - but everyone, even Mallory laughed at Harry's joke.

Two hours later, they reached the trench - well, the sides of it. "It seems my navigation was a little off," Hermione, who had been replaced by Harry at the helm, said as they stared at the sloped ground in the cone of light projected from the vessel. "I had hoped to reach the top of the slopes, but we must have drifted off-course."

"The slope's too steep for Atlantis to be on it," Mallory pointed out. "It will be on the bottom."

"That does not have to be the case," Hermione retorted. "Since the muggles didn't find any structures on the seafloor, some spell or other form of protection must still be active."

"It has probably been covered in mud and silt in the millennia since its sinking," the older wizard replied.

"That shouldn't be able to completely hide it," Hermione pointed out. She sounded a little optimistic in Ron's opinion - of course, they knew that spells could last that long; they had found older tombs with active curses in Egypt. "A spell would be ideal, of course - we could find its traces more easily than we can find anything buried in mud." She looked at Ophas, who hadn't said anything since they started the dive, as Mr Sayadi translated.

The Atlantean ghost said something, which Mr Sayadi translated. "He said that Atlantis didn't hide. The Empire had no need to hide."

"And yet, no one knew where it was located," Harry said.

"He says that the barbarians were not able to sail the oceans, and so never reached the island."

"Or were killed when they did," Ari said. "As my tribe was ordered to protect the ruins,"

"Either way, our search begins now in earnest," Hermione said.

Caribbean Sea, Puerto Rico Trench, December 16th, 2001

Archaeology meant long days of sifting through sand and dirt, looking for tiny shards and other relics - tedious and often unrewarding. Hermione Granger remembered Petunia telling her that in the summer before her second year at Hogwarts. Of course, that was muggle archaeology, not tomb raiding, which was far more exciting. And far more dangerous.

Though slowly moving over the bottom of the Puerto Rico Trench, sifting through silt, mud, sand and microalgae, felt very tedious. She sighed as she cast another spell, conjuring several deep-sea soles and flounders outside the sphere. She stifled a yawn when she sent them away to search for artificial-looking structures - it was late at night. Most of the others were already asleep. Not counting the two ghosts, of course, which were out looking for Atlantis. A quick focus on the guiding charms on the sphere kept it slowly drifting over the seabed.

There were muggle ways to search for structures buried in the earth, seismic stratigraphic profiling for example, but the underwater listening posts of the US Navy would probably notice the sound waves needed for that, and the last thing the group needed was being accused of endangering the Statute of Secrecy. Compared to that, using Fiendfyre on the Sultan's palace was nothing.

So she was reduced to hoping she spotted some active spells within the very short range of her detection spells, that the fish would notice a structure or - which was the most likely - that the ghosts would find ruins buried in the mud and silt.

She greatly disliked being so dependent on others. Especially since while Mr Sayadi's ghost was dependable, she didn't trust 'Ophas' at all. But she had no choice - creating a magical version of seismic stratigraphic profiling would take months, if she managed it at all - she was a Curse-Breaker, not a dedicated Spellcrafter. And they didn't have months. Even if they could, in theory, stay here for months with the spells and supplies in the sphere.

Sighing, she leaned back in her seat, watching the dark sea outside the window, and hoped that they got a lucky break soon.

They were certainly due one.

Caribbean Sea, Puerto Rico Trench, December 18th, 2001

"I feel like Captain Nemo," Harry said as he dropped into the seat next to Hermione Granger's. "Twenty thousand leagues under the sea. Or something."

"We haven't actually travelled that far," she corrected him.

"Certainly feels like it."

"We're moving much too slow to have travelled so far." Twenty thousand leagues would have taken them a few times around the world. More or less. "And that can't be helped." Between their spells and the ghosts, they couldn't cover a lot of ground.

He sighed again, then glanced over his shoulder.

"Mr Mallory is brewing a potion, and Ron and Ari are resting," she told him. Well, not exactly resting, but close enough.

"Do you think we should have prepared better for the expedition?" he asked.

"We agreed that time was of the essence." She pressed her lips together, then forced herself to relax again.

"That was before we started to comb the seabed."

"It was always evident that we couldn't count on a quick discovery." Count on, no. Hope for? Yes.

"Someone must have found the yacht by now," he went on.

"We don't need her any more," she retorted. "And the lines to the spelled anchors will likely be cut once they realise that they can't get them loose."

"One more mystery for the legend of the Bermuda Triangle."

"You've made that joke already. Several times, actually." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Sorry." He sighed once more. "I'm just getting a little stir-crazy here." He pointed ahead. "In hindsight, having only one window wasn't a good idea."

"I don't think more windows offering the same view of mud, silt and the occasional deep-sea fish would change anything for the better," she said. Quite the contrary, actually - without windows, one could pretend one wasn't miles under the sea, but in a wizarding tent on a shore somewhere.

"Probably." He shrugged. "Are the ghosts out searching?"

"Yes." As usual. "As are schools of flounders."

"Flounders floundering around." He chuckled.

"Your jokes certainly match our current position - they can hardly sink any lower," she snapped. She saw him wince and bit her lip. "Sorry."

He nodded.

"I guess I'm just a little stressed myself," she admitted with a forced smile. "Sorry."

"Well, I can think of…" He trailed off, staring past her at the darkness outside.

"What?"

"Something moved. Something bigger than the usual bottom-feeders."

She couldn't see anything. That didn't mean there wasn't anything, of course - Harry was a great Seeker; he had a talent for spotting things at a distance. On the other hand, they had spent days down here, and it would only be understandable if one started to... Something had moved. Something big. And long. "Probably a giant oarfish," she said. "They're plankton-eaters and fragile. Harmless."

The giant tentacle reaching for them out of the darkness beyond the range of their light spells looked anything but harmless.

Harry Potter swore and grabbed Hermione a moment before the tentacle slammed into the sphere and sent the whole vessel tumbling through the water. He didn't quite manage to cast a Sticking Charm in time, though, and so could only try to hold on to her as they tumbled through the bridge, into one of the seats, then into the wall.

He did manage to stick them to the wall, though, despite the pain in his side where he had hit the steel wall, and focused on the guiding charms of the sphere - they had to get away before the tentacle caught them. If they survived this, he would have to apologise to Arthur - harpoons would have been very handy right now.

Up. Up. Up.

"Sideways. We're going sideways!" Hermione yelled.

"What's going on?"

That was Ron.

"Giant squid attack!" Harry yelled as he focused again. Right. Right. Right.

This time, the sphere started to rise - but before they could get clear, they were struck again and plunged into the ocean floor. Ron yelled again, followed by a roar as a bed with a jaguar on it flew out of their door and crashed into the row of seats in front of the window.

Left. Left. Left.

Nothing happened - no, they were moving. But towards the origin of the tentacle. And here came another one, wrapping itself around them.

"Compared to the water pressure, whatever force those tentacles can exert should be negligible," Hermione said. But she sounded as if she needed to be convinced herself.

And was that creaking sound coming from the sphere? Or something inside? Harry reached for his emergency Portkey.

"Reparo!" Ron was casting Mending Charms. "Merlin's balls!" he cursed.

"Dear Lord!" Hermione gasped.

Back. Back. Back! Harry clenched his teeth as the light spells - one almost blocked by a tentacle - revealed the body of a giant squid dwarfing the one in the Black Lake. And its beak, ready to crack the sphere - or swallow them whole. And the Propulsion Charms weren't strong enough to break the tentacle's grip.

He flicked his wand forward and conjured a boulder in front of the gaping maw. "Stuff it!" he yelled, following up with another, this time straight inside the maw.

More boulders appeared, followed by a wall sealing the mouth - only to get crushed when the squid bit down. And then the tentacles shook them around, the remains of Ron and Ari's bed narrowly missing Harry as they smashed against the wall once again. Ron went flying, but crashed against a seat and managed to hold on.

And when the sphere stopped moving, they weren't facing the beak anymore - but were still being pulled towards it. This was it - they had to use the Portkey!

"Potassium! Conjure potassium near the tentacle!" Hermione yelled, swishing her wand. As if Harry would know how to conjure potassium!

But she did. Flashes went off at the tentacle, and what looked like steam. Then an explosion shook the sphere, and the tentacle recoiled.

Up! Up! Up! Harry thought, gripping his wand. And the sphere shot up.

"Reparo! Reparo!" Ari and Ron were now at it.

"Turn us around!" Hermione yelled. "We'll need to get rid of that monster!"

"Reparo!"

Turn. Back. Back. Back. The sphere swung around, backing away from the squid - who gave chase. Once more, tentacles lashed out. Two… three… four.

Harry gasped and accelerated. And more explosions lit up the water between them and the monster.

"Hermione! Conjure the stuff inside a metal box!" Ron yelled.

A moment later, a sphere appeared outside, quickly followed by another, larger, around it. Tentacles gripped it, crushing the outer hull and dragging it back.

Harry kept backing away.

"If I calculated correctly…" he heard Hermione mumble.

Then a bright light appeared in the darkness below them, right before a shockwave hit them and sent them tumbling through the water again.

"Reparo!"

"Reparo!"

"Reparo!"

Panting, Harry managed to stabilise the sphere again.

"What the hell…" Ron muttered.

"Stupid squid," Ari added.

"That was… not a natural animal," Hermione said. "It was too large. It had to be a magical one." Harry looked at her. She was pale and shivering.

That had been close. Too close. But the others looked… He blinked. "What about Mallory?"

Ron moved to the door to the man's quarters. "Mr Mallory?" He knocked on the door, then tried to open it. "Locked." He knocked again and yelled: "Mr Mallory?"

Harry swore under his breath. He dispelled the Sticking Charm, wincing at the pain in his side when he dropped to the ground.

"Harry!"

"I'm OK," he told Hermione. "We need to check on Mallory."

Dealing with a Locking Charm was child's play for a Curse-Breaker - Ron flicked his wand, then pushed the door open. But he recoiled immediately. "Bubble-Head Charm! Bloody stench!"

Harry cast one at once, then another on the retching Ari as he moved to join Ron, who was kneeling next to the prone form of Mallory.

"Must have been surprised while he was brewing," Ron said as he moved his wand over the older wizard. "Broken leg, broken arm, concussion I think. And lots of bruises."

"And stinks!" Ari added, still retching, from the door.

Harry looked around. Upturned cauldron… smashed bottles and vials and boxes. Lots of blood on the floor and animal parts. No wonder Mallory never wanted anyone watching when he brewed - this looked like quite a questionable recipe.

"Let's get him out," he said. "Before something here poisons him or us."

They floated the unconscious wizard out and closed - and sealed - the door.

"No sign of the giant squid," Hermione told them. "I took us up a little further. Just in case."

The squid could likely swim faster than their vessel if it were still alive. But a little more distance wouldn't hurt. "We need to treat his wounds," Harry said. "Wake him up and get him some potions."

"He stinks!" Ari snarled.

"Well, he's soaked with the remains of his potion," Ron commented. "Scourgify!"

They woke the man up, fed him several potions, then let him sleep while his bones were mended by Skele-Gro. Well, rest - Harry knew from experience that you didn't sleep well after drinking that potion due to the painful sensation it caused while working. Auntie always said that that was by design, so people learned to avoid breaking their bones.

But while Mallory rested, they had to clean up and repair the rest of the ship and its furniture, which took a little while.

"We need to go back," Hermione said. "The ghosts might not find us otherwise."

"Stupid ghosts could have warned us of the squid!" Ari hissed.

She was right, Harry thought. "They were close - they should have noticed the creature." The ghosts didn't stray too far from the vessel.

Hermione frowned. "You're right. And the squid wouldn't have been able to hurt them."

"And Mr Sayadi, at least, wouldn't have left us to the squid," Ron added.

"So… why didn't they warn us?" Hermione bit her lower lip.

Harry knew what she meant. "Because they might have discovered something that held their attention?"

Hermione nodded with a growing smile. "We need to go back."

"Cautiously, though," Ron added. "If that monster's still alive…"

Harry winced at the thought. "We haven't seen anything of it since we fled."

They saw a lot of it once they returned to the bottom of the trench: Chunks of tentacles and body parts were floating around. One giant eye seemed to glare at them as it drifted past.

"That was some explosion," Ron commented. "What is potassium?"

"A metal which reacts violently with water," she explained.

"Need to teach me to conjure that," he said.

"After this expedition;" she replied. "We should…" she trailed off as the sphere jerked. "Harry?"

He checked the charms. "Something's pulling us forward."

Back. Back. Back.

They slowed down. But they were still moving forward. And whatever it was, it wasn't a current.

"It's a spell!" Hermione blurted. "We're caught in a spell!"

"Can you dispel it?" Harry asked, trying to make the vessel stop.

"It's complex," she answered. "I don't know its pattern but… it looks Atlantean."

Harry reached for the emergency Portkey once more. If this was a trap… and what else could it be? But they were moving slowly - traps were usually quick.

"There are bones on the floor!" Ron exclaimed. "Lots of bones!"

"Whales?" Hermione asked.

"Probably. I'm no expert," he replied.

"That would explain the squid's presence. If dead whales and other creatures ended up here, it might have made hunting for food less efficient than simply waiting," she speculated. "But…"

The sphere jerked again, softly, though. And through the window, Harry could see light. And structures - stone walls. Covered with Atlantean runes.