There were birds - for the first time in weeks there were birds - and Hermione first regarded them as foreign. In realization of their significance as a sign of their proximity to land, Hermione leaped up from the bed, transfigured her dress from her nightgown, pinned her hair up into a loose bun when she rushed barefooted from the cabin and onto the deck to have a better view. She could barely see from the main deck and so she ventured up the stairs, trailing her hand along the railing as she went, and stopped at the helm where she could make out the greenery and mountains of coastal Africa.

The birds were also circulating the ship, roosting atop the masts to digest their food and occasionally drop an unwelcome gift on a crewmember from above. For this reason, she watched her step and chose to avoid the sails to spare herself from their offenses. From there the world seemed to turn in their direction as land approached them into view and out from the blue was a fantastic vision of greens and yellows. Here the winds were strongest and it only took and hour or more until such lands were within reach. The cliffside was turbulent and menacing, a stark contrast from the dazy and peaceful coastal jungle that lay outstretched beyond the rocky terrace.

"Ever seen the coast here before, Miss Granger?" Billy came to stand by her side, handing her an apple as he often did.

"Thank you," she held it in her hands where she leaned against the rail, "No, I haven't."

"It's a beautiful place. Our last routes have led us here, but only for trading fruit and spices. It's a shame, the new contract."

She sighed and lowered her head in recollection. "I… I can't believe... Jack won't go through with it, will he?" They turned to view the captain who was walking about and tightening lines where they had been secured by the crewmen alongside him.

"Jack is unpredictable, although what can he do, really? Resign? The first mate would be next in line to assume the position and he doesn't wish to be captain. It's an unfortunate circumstance, to be sure, but I can't imagine an alternative that would end in anything even objectively good. They would only replace him and have the same job filled by someone more cruel of heart."

"There must be something he can do, though, right? Perhaps when he meets this 'Mr. Kurtz' he can renegotiate the contract."

"I doubt that. I figure men who sell human beings for a living hardly have time for a captain they don't know to renegotiate his reason for being there. Do you wish to stay with him or the crew during our time on land?"

Hermione tapped her fingernails on the railing in thought when the captain passed to manage the wheel from Gibbs. "I'd prefer to stay aboard the ship and as far away from that business as I possibly can."

"Fair enough, Granger." He nodded in understanding. "Although," he squinted up at the sun, "I doubt the captain would want to leave you behind. He doesn't seem to trust the crew, and I don't blame him, either."

It was midday by the time they made port and Hermione was thankful that Jack could skillfully ease the ship around treacherous reefs and cross-tides where jagged rock would have shipwrecked anyone with less skill. Here, the ocean landscape was menacing, and spikes of sharp coral and rock stuck out from the water like teeth - these obstacles came so close to the hull Hermione could have reached out and touched them.

The ocean was like the tender tint of orient sapphire, diffusing the still reaches of the sky, as far as the horizon was deep and clear, renewed a short sense of delight from their mission that had weighed heavy on her eyes and heart. She followed the dock once the ship had made port, leading down toward land where the waves broke on the shore; where you could find rushes growing in soft sand. No other plant producing leaves or stalk that hardens could survive in such a place- only the reeds that yield to buffering. The plank had begun it's final stretch, descending to the shore below where coarse sands awaited.

Once the ship was secured and cargo unloaded, reloaded and sorted, the sun was nearing the horizon - the highest point whose meridian arc was just above the darkening oceanic abyss. She was still standing at the water's edge, wondering about the road ahead like men whose thoughts go forward while their bodies stay.

"Come one, Hermione," Jack summoned her to join the group that departed on foot. "No time like the present time, I always say."

"I want to stay behind, Jack. I don't like this." She remained facing the ocean, turning her face downward to view the sand that wriggled between her toes when the tide came and went.

He sighed, having been afraid of this. "Hermione, I don't favour this task any more than you do - I promise ye -" he came to face her, standing between her and the setting sun, "It would be a great relief if you'd join me."

"No, I won't. I refuse." She turned to leave and he moved to block her.

"Love, I-" He held her by the arms to merit her attention, "I'll be honest with you, love, I want nothing of this. If you'll come with me just this once, I'll NEVER ask your favour again."

"If this is because you're worried about my safety, rest assured, I'm more likely to cause trouble at the slave-owner's home than here with the crew. Now, if you'll move out of my way, I'm going to stay with Billy." She turned to leave and drudged through the sand to meet him when Jack ran after her.

"I didn't want to have to do this, Hermione, but as Captain of the ship, I insist-"

"As CAPTAIN, then, is that it?"

"I insist. That's an order, love."

"That's rubbish, that's what it is."

"Come on, Granger, before the day is out." He pushed her along.

"Jack, I promise you, I have very strong feelings about slavery and I can't guarantee I'll behave myself."

He leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. "I'm with you wholeheartedly, love."

When they drudged through the weeds and sand dunes they approached a town so small that the lighthouse was merely a three-legged post erect on a muddy flat, shining barely through an evening fog that loomed. The town smelled pungent with pain and suffering. The entire crew was on edge, Jack the most uneasy as he lead his entourage to the small town. Hermione followed her companions up toward the cliffs that separated the beach from the town, their path led by a set of stairs where the harbormaster greeted her with loose and wandering eyes. Jack noticed this, and began keeping her possessively close.

Behind them darkness was gaining ground, putting to flight the last stretch of daylight. The wooden buildings seemed newly built, unweathered by the forces of coastal nature, and lined by patios and hanging lanterns that lit their path. Tall palm trees loomed overhead, threatening to snatch them up and away, never to return.

Hermione turned a deathly pale when they were passed by humans, each chained to the other; barely clothed. They were enslaved. These souls pushed forward through purgatory as if not caring what awaited them ahead; their eyes glazed over with a depressed fog that seemed to cloud their irises. Among them were men and an occasional woman, bound together. Hermione's heart ached and she had to remind herself to breathe. If Jack hadn't kept her moving, she would have stalled far from her group again.

"Mr. Gibbs, please see that the crew is on their best behavior- although we hope to put this to our rudder and ne'er return, it's best that we be able to leave on our own accord, aye?" Jack was uneasy; his body language was one of reluctance. "Hermione will be my guest at Mr. Kurtz' home and we ought to return in the morning with the... cargo. See to it that everyone is ready and no one wanders off." Jack and the whole entire crew were reflections of the other's solemnity. "Pip, pip, hop to it, lads."

Hermione kept unusually quiet as they approached the carriage that had been sent for them. The driver - a slave- approached and came to open the doors for them with gestures that were quiet and trained.

"Thank you, sir." Was all she could muster to the man before shut the door after they were seated.

Hermione gripped her dress tightly when the carriage jolted forward and a tear fell down her freckled cheek. Jack noticed this and melted.

"I'm terribly sorry, love." He realized he should not have forced her to join him, although he knew she would be the only person who could possibly refrain him from acting out. He would never do anything to endanger her. "Please understand, I-"

"I don't want an explanation, Jack." She avoided his eye contact when she wiped her cheek and only stared out the carriage window as it led them down a dirt road where the forest became more and more dense as darkness fell.

The mansion itself was large, encompassed by an iron gate that resembled prison bars, and decorated with the classic colonial detail that dominated the aristocracy of the age. Candles sat lit in each window, glowing with ominousness and Hermione felt as though she were being brought to hell itself. The carriage halted and Jack moved to open the door. He then exited the carriage and held out his hand for Hermione to follow suit.

The hem of her maroon dress dragged through the grass as they approached the home and Hermione, despite her frustration with Jack, accepted his hand that wound its way into hers. At the top of grandiose steps, they met the front door and before Jack could manage a knock, the door opened and behind it was an enslaved servant.

"How do you do, my fine sir?" Jack tilted his hat to the man but got no response from him whatsoever. The man merely stepped back to reveal a white man clad in a garish vest with distinctly european features.

"Ah, you must be Sparrow. As you are aware, I am John Kurtz," The man greeted Jack with a look of distaste, eyeing him up and down. "I've been expecting you, thanks to word from Cutler Beckett. I was almost afraid to miss the opportunity to begin my trade with the Company. Ah," He noticed Hermione but thought not much of her. "Anyhow, come in, then."

He lead them inside.

"You must be famished - I can't imagine a trip of your duration offers much fine dining among meal arrangements. You'll be pleased to have something of quality while you're here. Oh- and, mi'lady…" He leaned forward and took her hand with a slight bow.

Mr. Kurtz then led them through the foyer and into a parlour that was decorated with the heads of the local wildlife - antelope, wildebeest, and a water buffalo with eyes that seemed to watch their every move and that adorned the grand fireplace that was lined with generations of paintings of men of the Kurtz family line, Mr. Kurtz would tell them proudly. The only break between decor was tall windows that stretched from floor to ceiling and she decided that the entire room was a semblance of business and chaos that unsettled her. Although, Jack kept his cool and made small conversation with the man so that she would be spared from it.

She wandered around, coming to touch a map on the table that was marked: color coded by his exploitations, past and future. When she moved closer to the fireplace, she pushed up the sleeves of her dress and examined the mantle decor. A glass orb set on a pedestal caught her curiosity and she made to pick it up but she jumped when Mr. Kurtz spoke from behind her.

"Uh, uh, uh, we mustn't touch what isn't ours now, shan't we?" He moved to place his arm around her and usher her back to Jack but she shoved his arm away.

"Don't touch me, sir. I'll be happy to move on my own if you would simply say so." She scoffed at him and moved away.

"My, my, isn't she a pleasure, Captain?" The man huffed at her vocal abrasion.

Jack frowned, eyeing Hermione with sympathy for her before diverting Kurtz's attention. "How about a glass of sherry, aye? A toast to our… erm, meeting." Jack helped himself to a bottle that sat on a table nearby and picked two glasses from the shelf. He poured each one with a measured hand. "To Mr. Kurtz…" He smiled weakly, "A… business... man." He handed the glass to the other man and downed his glass before Mr. Kurtz could manage to raise his own.

"Ah, I must say, nothing beats a pint of rum, but I can appreciate this fine sherry..." Jack coughed at the sting of the bitter alcohol. "Sir, it's been a pleasure. Though, I must say, it's been a long voyage and I cannot wait to rest in a bed on land again."

Jack motioned for Hermione to return to him so that they could leave, but Mr. Kurtz grabbed her by the arm to stop her from going. "Nonsense! You've not even eaten, and what kind of host would I be if I let my guests retire hungry?"

Hermione tugged her arm away from him and moved toward Jack.

Mr. Kurtz continued to talk when they kept quiet, "Though, I do apologize, expecting only the captain I've only readied one of my rooms. It seems you will have to share."

"No worries, mate." Jack gave him a smile and fidgeted his fingers.

Before any replies could be made, a servant entered the room to signal that dinner was ready.

"Ah, yes, my friends, the dinner table is all set and readied," He ventured a smile at them and led them from the parlor toward the dining room.

Hermione noted the table with twelve seats that was readied for only three and decided that she felt truly unnerved. On the walls were more paintings than in the room before it, and a mounted zebra's head that crowned the host's chair at the end of the table. It wasn't before long that they were seated and servants filtered into the room bearing silver platters and glasses and bowls of a finer meal than she'd eaten in a month. On their plates were small bird of prey - quail - donned with seasoned greens and potatoes.

"Don't be shy, my guests, eat!" Kurtz urged them. Jack did not need any persuading as he helped himself to his first of many dinner rolls of the evening, but Hermione's appetite failed her. Something was wrong and she knew it.

"Captain," their host regarded him after a sip of wine, "How does a man as young as yourself manage across a title of such prestige?"

Jack cleared his throat before speaking, "I've lived my entire life at sea: since birth, I've not spent more than a month on land at a time. It's suffocating, in my opinion. Nothing like the open ocean - Freedom…"

His final word seemed to reverberate around the room like the echo of a drum.

A servant came around to fill their glasses and Hermione studied the woman closely, observing how unnaturally coordinated her movements were, how she gave little response to stimulus and seems utterly devoid of autonomy. The woman left the room and Hermoine stood from her chair.

"Pardon me, I'll be back." She looked to Jack and then Mr. Kurtz.

"And where might you be off to?" Mr. Kurtz's voice was stern.

"The powder room, sir." Hermione's voice was equally impatient when she turned to leave.

Mr. Kurtz stood up tall, his chair scooting loudly across the floor as he did. "Sparrow, it'd do you some good to teach your woman to ask permission to leave the table." He motioned toward Hermione who stood there incredulously.

"Absolutely not, sir. With all due respect, Hermione is a free woman who can do and say exactly as she wishes." Jack spoke sharply, giving her a dark and impatient expression - a testament of his disdain for the man beside him.

The silence that followed was resounding.

"I'll be right back." She regarded them before leaving.

Hermione exited the room and shut the carved wooden doors behind her, leaning against them in relief. The tension was suffocating. She gathered herself before searching for the enslaved woman and spotted her walking into the parlour.

The woman didn't acknowledge Hermione when she followed into the room soon after and Hermione noticed the woman picking up the glasses of sherry that Jack had shared with Kurtz. Before she spoke to the woman, Hermione's gaze was brought back to the glass orb that sat atop the mantle - the one that Mr. Kurtz did not want her to touch.

Hermione neared it with a measured pace, eyeing the heads on the wall with an uneasy feeling before she reached the mantle and reached out to grab the orb. She pulled it to her closer gaze and watched in awe as the orb seemed to fill itself with a dark red smoke. In shock, she leaped and gasped aloud, accidentally dropping the orb on the floor, which shattered upon impact. Hermione immediately turned to see if the woman was about to rush to tell the homeowner, but was surprised when the woman walked past her without batting an eye.

The red smoke rose up into the air and evaporated without a trace, leaving behind clear crystalline shards on the hardwood floor and Hermione looked around in dizzying realization that it was a remembrall.

"Hey!" Hermione chased after the woman, grabbed her arm and pulled her into view only to see that her eyes were grayed with the unmistakable mark of the imperious curse.