Harry soon got his sea legs and did his best to be a model stowaway. He made himself useful and tidied the bunks and peeled potatoes and scrubbed the decks and rolled up ropes as thick as his arms, all without needing to be told. And when he didn't know what to do he asked. He took the captain and the passenger their dinners and the second mate his rum. He helped at the wheel, ran errands for everyone, and sewed buttons on the sailors' trousers.
The crew grew to like him and even the captain stopped sighing when he saw him. Most of the sailors were family men and his presence made them wistful for their own families and turned them kinder, made them swear less, and it was a good five days before the first mate had to break up a fight. A new record said the captain and wondered if they shouldn't always have a child on board.
The only person that continued to scowl when he saw Harry was The Passenger. He would pause and watch Harry go about his errands and scoffed when Harry asked, "How do you do?" instead of replying with a proper good morning.
One time he even reached out and removed Harry's fringe to look at his scar on his forehead. Harry had that scar from the car accident in which his parents had died. It looked like a lightning bolt, and he didn't mind it, but sometimes odd-looking people would stop in the street and point at it so he kept it hidden.
The Passenger was odd too. He was always dressed in black. With his pale face and black hair and black clothes, he reminded Harry of the vampire in one of the school library's books. Dracula. He wondered if he drank blood.
Timothy the sailor thought the same. "He never comes out in the day," Timothy gossiped. It was quite untrue for the first day that Harry was on the ship he had come out to look at him but Harry had forgotten that by now and nodded. "And there are smells coming from his cabin—" Timothy said.
"Idle hands?" the shift captain asked behind them, cutting their little chat short, and set them to work.
There were more things strange about The Passenger. Only Captain Tom knew his name, and every other night the captain would stop the ship and The Passenger would go for a swim. Harry would be sleeping long since, having worked hard in the day, and had to rely on what the sailors told him about it.
Timothy said The Passenger didn't take any diving gear but stayed under the water for ages. The other sailors said it was nonsense, of course, he took gear, they could see a light under the water. But none of them could say what gear exactly, or had any idea what The Passenger was doing.
One day, when he had nothing better to do and he and Timothy had speculated yet again over breakfast, Harry made sure his work took him past The Passenger's cabin. And sure enough, if you put your nose next to the gap under the door there were odd smells. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out what it smelled like. It didn't smell good and it didn't smell bad. He was still deciding when the door opened and The Passenger came out to look at him.
"Lost something, Potter?" he asked in a snooty voice, sounding exactly like Harry's first-grade teacher when she was irritated with the class.
"No, sir," Harry said and held up his rag. He could feel his ears burning but looked The Passenger in the eyes. "I'm cleaning."
"A likely story. Be off and don't let me see you here again or I shall inform the captain he has a nosy little stowaway."
"Sorry, sir," Harry apologised quickly and stopped trying to see around him into the cabin. What was that weird-looking pot? Was he cooking something? Did he not like Cook's food? "Shall I bring you anything from the galley?"
"No." The Passenger scowled and took a menacing step forward. "Get!"
Harry took himself off.
Exactly one hour later, when Harry was polishing the brass he stopped short. He had just realised something.
Potter.
He had said Potter, he was nearly sure of it! Had he imagined it? No, no, he didn't think so. Was it possible that the stranger knew him? But surely he would have said before? Surely he would have asked where Aunt Petunia was? Harry thought he would recognise anyone he'd ever met, it had not been that many people after all he was still just six, and especially ones that looked like vampires. He decided he was wrong and that his imagination had played tricks on him.
One morning the sky turned dark, the wind started to blow, and the sea turned rough, rocking the steamer violently. At first, Harry was excited to see the big waves and watched the crew hurry about securing everything. All hands were needed on deck and he was happy to help but the second mate sent Harry down below. He went to the galley to see if he could help there but the cook was struggling with flying pots and caught one just before it could hit Harry on the noggin, and sent him to his bunk.
All day the wind blew harder and harder, and the sea became rougher, rocking the ship until Harry couldn't bear it anymore. The storm's noise was terrific, they had to shout to be heard at all, and the ship rocked ever more violently from side to side, turning his stomach queasy. Feeling sick to his stomach, Harry curled on his bunk with a bucket, and for the first time, he wished himself home. Timothy brought him dinner, dancing on expert legs, holding the tray without spilling anything. Harry took one whiff of the food and turned green. Timothy gave him his bucket.
The crew was kept on their toes all night. At one point the power went out and Harry shivered in the dark, feeling quite alone.
When you were only six and found yourself alone in such circumstances, you tended to think all sorts of scary thoughts, and Harry was no different than any other child. Would he even know if everyone abandoned ship? What if they left him behind? Tears filled his eyes and he made no effort to stop them.
He was lying on his bunk and crying heartily when The Passenger appeared next to him. The Passenger was holding a strange flashlight that looked very much like a stick, his face decidedly grey in the blue light. He gripped the sides of the cot not to be thrown about and shouted something Harry couldn't hear. When Harry didn't react, he shouted again. Harry had no strength left to tell him he didn't know what he wanted. The Passenger said something else that absolutely looked like it could have been swearing, and picked Harry off his bunk, bundling him in his blankets.
"It's not safe alone," The Passenger yelled right in his ear and this at least he could hear.
He carried Harry out to his own cabin which was just down the passageway. They were banged into the walls and flung about, but astonishingly he kept his footing and kicked the cabin door open with his boot. At last Harry could see The Passenger's cabin but he was too sick to his stomach to care. Everything besides for a steamer trunk seemed to be safely stowed away anyway.
The Passenger put Harry on his bunk and then did the strangest thing. He waved his flashlight at his large steamer trunk and it shrank and shrank until it was big enough to fit his hand, then he picked it up and put it in his trouser pocket.
Just as he did it there was a terrific crash and they were both flung against the walls. Harry felt like he had banged all his bones in his body and was ready to just curl up and cry but The Passenger grabbed him up again.
"Topside!" he yelled in Harry's ear. "Where's your pluck, Potter? Be brave!"
He carried Harry out of the cabin. Water rushed over his feet and when Harry saw this he clutched wildly at The Passenger's neck.
By the time they reached the ladders the icy water was hip-high, and even Harry's feet were dragging through it. The ship was canting on her side and they struggled to stay upright as the ceiling had become the wall. Now they weren't alone anymore. Sailors came streaming out of the cabins, all of them yelling, "To the boats! To the boats! We're sinking! To the boats!"
At first they went with the stream, the bodies keeping them upright, but once they were topside, The Passenger veered away to the bridge. Lightning flashed, and deafening thunder rolled and they struggled through a curtain of water. The Passenger held on to the rails not to be swept aside, and it was all Harry could do to cling to him the same.
"We should go to the lifeboats!" Harry yelled, tugging at his shirt, pointing to where the crew was working to release the lifeboats in case he hadn't been heard.
A bitterly cold wave crashed over them and he never heard the answer. When they could see and breathe again, The Passenger struggled on, and Harry clung to him like a wet rag.
They found Captain Tom at the bridge. "Hello, Severus!" he called, his voice booming. He dragged them inside. "I see you found him, thank you! I trust you will take care of him?"
"As soon as I'm sure you are on a boat, you idiot! What are you still doing here?"
"A captain goes down with his ship!" Captain Tom yelled. "I am bound for Davey Jones's locker, lad!"
"Idiot!" The Passenger—no, Severus—shouted.
Harry was glad he finally learned his name and wasn't surprised that it was as odd as him.
"Save yourself and the child!" Captain Tom bellowed.
"Blasted idiot!" Severus shouted and then he waved his flashlight at Captain Tom.
Another icy wave crashed over them, right then, spilling into the bridge, and the men both clutched at whatever surface they could grab not to be swept away. Harry held on as water rushed through his mouth and nose and was glad for the arm that also clutched him tightly.
He was trying hard to keep up with the events. He had lost his glasses in the wave and could dimly see the flashlight turn from blue to yellow and back to blue, the yellow light fizzing over Captain Tom. Then Severus put the tip of the blue light to his throat. His voice boomed over the thunder. "Get in the lifeboat, you bloody idiot!"
Captain Tom straightened up and saluted. "Aye, aye, sir!"
Severus stood aside to let him storm past them, and he and Harry watched Captain Tom struggle to the last lifeboat and jump into it.
"We need to go too!" Harry cried and tried to pull away. What were they waiting for? The waves were as tall as skyscrapers! If Severus wanted to stay he could! Harry would go on his own! "Let me go! The lifeboats!"
But The Passenger aka Severus had gone mad.
"Eat this!" he boomed in Harry's ear and held something to his face.
Lightning flashed and momentarily turned the night bright as day. Harry could see it was a small brown ball of pressed leaves. He saw such things every day now and knew immediately what it was.
"I don't like tobacco—ghmf!"
Severus had used the opportunity to pop it into his mouth, and he quickly clamped his hand over Harry's lips when he tried to spit it. He bellowed, "Chew!"
He wasn't going to chew it. They were standing at death's door and he didn't see the sense in taking a break to chew tobacco, but yet another wave washed over them and Harry automatically clenched his jaw not to swallow the salty water and unintentionally chewed the plug. It did not taste like tobacco. It did not taste like anything Harry had ever experienced, and had a rubbery texture, much like the octopus tentacles they had in yesterday's soup. Which he hadn't liked at all.
He gagged but Severus was still holding his hand over his mouth, preventing him from spitting it out… and suddenly he couldn't breathe.
Knives cut through his neck and his chest burned. His fingers and toes itched but he was barely aware of that, struggling to get air. He grabbed his neck and felt two large slits on each side below his ears.
What was happening to him?! Eyes nearly popping out of his face, he saw his tormentor pop a plug into his own mouth too and watched him chew it furiously.
Harry truly thought he was going to die. His head spun and he couldn't think of anything else except how odd it was of the man to murder him when he could have waited a moment and let the storm do its job. He stared at The Passenger—Severus—and thought this was it. Never-mind. Perhaps it was better this way. He would finally get to see his mum and dad…
And then Severus stepped out of the bridge and into the wave as it crashed and let it sweep them off.
They tumbled in the surging water. Top. Bottom. Head. Heels. The pitch-black watery world was topsy turvy. Terror struck and disoriented, Harry didn't realise that he had long ago stopped struggling to breathe, that the previously icy water now felt balmy on his skin, that his mind was getting all the oxygen it needed, and that he could think clearly again.
Down and down they sank, rocked by the water, and Harry who was usually lost without his glasses found he could see clearly anyway, even through the dark. He didn't feel the need to blink as much and barely needed Severus's flashlight to show the way, but he was still glad for the familiarity of the blue glow.
Harry blinked astonished when he realised he could see gills flapping below Severus's ears. Severus pointed at Harry's mouth and made a chewing motion with his fingers—which had webs!
And Harry's hands had webs too!
Harry had a mini freakout when he realised he was not dead but had turned into a merman. It lasted only moments, though, for being a merman might possibly be the next best thing to being a sailor. He flapped his hands and felt the water flow over his webs.
Severus motioned again at him to chew, and being a smart lad, he got it, it was the weird tobacco that had turned him into a merman. He chewed. It was still disgusting. Eugh!
"I'm chewing!" Harry said when Severus made the motion again but no sound came out of his mouth, only a giant bubble, so he nodded and chewed with exaggerated jaw movements to show him he was doing it. That seemed to satisfy Severus finally, and he let go of Harry but quickly took his hand and pointed his flashlight in the direction he wanted them to swim in. A fluorescent orange fish as big as Harry's head darted past.
Harry would love to know why they couldn't have taken the boats but he was glad they hadn't for it was quieter down here. A new world opened up before him, ready for exploring. He swam where Severus guided him, and it was easy to swim, the webbed fingers and toes helping him to glide through the water, and he let the man lead him while he gawked around at everything.
There was such a lot to see. The sea was teeming with fish. Gazillions of tiny silver fish no larger than a finger, swirling in a school, making way for them to pass and closing up behind them. Odd blue and red fish that looked as if someone had squashed them, their eyes hilariously popping out, bobbing stupidly around them. Curtains of translucent jellyfish that parted before Severus's light. Sleek bodies and sharp fins glimpsed in the depths that made Harry nervously swim closer to Severus.
On and on they swam. When his neck started to itch, and his lungs protested, Severus gave him another plug to chew, and his breathing immediately eased.
It was not all wonder; Harry spent some time worrying about Captain Tom and Cook and Timothy, hoping they were all right. He couldn't imagine how they would fare in the small lifeboats if the big ship had broken so easily in the waves.
He was feeling quite maudlin when suddenly a small violet fish with a yellow back darted in front of his face before doing the same to Severus, circling Severus's head like a happy puppy. Severus smiled and stroked its fin, and tickled its violet belly, and when it darted off, he followed it, pulling Harry along.
Harry wished he could see Timothy now so he could tell him The Passenger was as odd as they had feared. Whoever heard of letting a fish guide you? Whoever heard of growing gills? And don't forget the trunk that he shrank! He would have thought he was dreaming if it wasn't for the fact that he was fast getting tired and found himself wishing for a bed. Why would you wish for one if you were already in it?
Just as Harry started to imagine he couldn't swim one stroke more, or eat one more plug of merman tobacco, they came upon the most extraordinary sight. Even more extraordinary than any he had seen this night.
At first, he thought it was a whale. As good as his eyesight was now, he still needed glasses, and only when they swam closer did he see the blue and silver were metal, and when he saw the windows he realised it was an enormous underwater ship like the boatmen had never before seen. For if they had they would have been talking about it all day and every day, Harry was sure.
Unlike Harry, Severus must have expected it. He swam without hesitation towards it and dove to a large circular entrance under its belly, pulling Harry along. Harry caught a glimpse of two brown faces in a window in passing and twisted his head to see a boy and a girl slightly older than him. The boy grinned and waved at Harry.