Chapter Fourteen: Voldemort's Ship
"We'll use that spell, you know... The invisibility one Professor McGonagall taught us. Then we'll paddle out to the ship and climb up the rope ladder, and then-"
Ginny faded into the drizzle before Ron could finish, leaving a canoe paddle floating midair.
Ron inhaled before taking the wand and putting the spell on himself too, then Slave. Before Slave's shoes disappeared his voice asked: "You want me to come?"
"You might be useful," said Ron's voice, doubtfully. His paddle waggled around. "You can see me, right?"
Ginny and Slave thumbs-upped.
Mist enveloped them as Ron paddled out from the marshes into the river's open water. Calm and heavy, it was spotted by the drizzle. Still, Ron dipped his paddles in as lightly as possible, in case eyes from the crow's nest noticed swirls on the water's surface.
Soon steep black sides of the Salazar reared before them, and Ginny reached for the bottom of the rope ladder.
"One of us needs to stay in the canoe so it doesn't float away," said Ron, gripping the ladder to keep from drifting, after Ginny and Slave were halfway up it. "We need to- Hang on! Not me! It should be Slave. That's not fair!"
Ron got stuck there as Ginny and Slave climbed over the ship's edge onto the hull.
"Bloody hell," mumbled Ron as he bumped against a porthole. "Bloody, bloody hell… Hold on," he peered through the glass. "That looks like Scabbers' chew toy. It is Scabbers' chew toy! Why is it on You Know Who's ship?"
A pink rubber duck with rat sized bites taken out of it sat on a desk in the first mate's quarters. A framed certificate read: "Quarters of First Mate to the Dark Lord, Wormtail, AKA Scabbers." Just then the door to the room opened and a hunched man with a pointy nose and scraggly, greying hair swept his eyes around it. Then he stooped and began shrinking, until soon enough he was a rat.
Ron's eyes popped. "Scabbers! You traitor! I hope Fred forgot to give you midnight snacks!"
Wormtail spun around and pressed his face to the window, scanning the water; and if Ron had not been invisible, it would have been his end.
"Seems like a ghost ship," said Ginny. "Where is everyone?"
Slave swayed, and gripped the ship's edge as his knees buckled. He threw up over its side.
"Hey!" called Ron.
Ginny hauled Slave around to the other side of the deck, outside the door to the hold. Slave kept his eyes firmly on her boots as he shook.
Rhythmic creaking kept them alert as the ship rocked on the incoming tide. They tiptoed along the deck, past coiled ropes, lines, barrels of weapons and occasional cannons pointing at Shell Cottage. When they reached the prow, a snake burst from a barrel, knocking Slave off his feet.
"Help! Help! Help! Help! Help!" repeated Slave.
"Shhhh! You're invisible you- shhhh!" Ginny pulled Slave by the arm into a corner, covering his mouth as the snake darted to different spots around the deck, snapping at thin air. She wiped his spit off onto her shirt.
"Time to die," said Ginny, grabbing a sword from a barrel and whacking the snake with it. The sword did not go through the snake's tough skin, and it convulsed, tripping her. "Uhhhh, oops," Ginny stepped between its slithering, and raised the sword again. "AGH! TIME TO DIE!" the sword slit through the snake that fell to the deck like a sliced sausage. Its halves rolled around in blood.
"Let's go!" They ran across the deck before anyone investigated.
"Dumbledore's ring is probably in here," whispered Ginny, when they stopped near a jewelled oak door. "This has to be the Captain's Quarters."
A handle jingled, and the door pushed against its frame. Ginny and Slave froze. A thudding came from the other side. Hissing came from the quarters.
"They are on the ship," said Voldemort. "I cannot leave this room while the young Minister is here. Wormtail!"
Ginny gasped and tripped. Then Slave stepped forward, and unlatched the door so it swung open. Voldemort stared out, eyes fixed on Slave, the invisibility spell having no effect.
"I'm here," said Slave. "The future Minister."He slipped the dragon ring onto his finger.
Ginny's only choice was to jump over the ship's side as Slave was shot with a killing curse. Green light imprinted on her eyelids.
Fred and George stepped from their igloo's door, where a flower poked through crisp ground, signalling spring. As George bent to pick it, a window was punched through the igloo's wall by Charlie. His freckled face stared out. "Winter's ending," came his voice, "and our igloos are melting. We really ought to go to Ginny and Ron, now that we don't have to worry about frostbite, and we befriended the werewolves. With their protection, we can take on any Death Eater. We really have no excuse."
Bill was resting in a hammock tied to some trees, a mug of hot cocoa in his hands. He leapt from it. "Charlie's right. I just don't feel right staying in hiding at this point. We won't tell mum of course," he glanced in the direction of Hagrid's treehouse. "But I say we leave for Shell Cottage right now."
"Wagtail!" Fred called a werewolf he had named. "Want to give us a ride, boy?"
Bill, Charlie, Fred and George travelled down the banks of winding rivers aided by a couple of their new friends. Besides Wagtail, a skinny, blue-ish werewolf, was a muscley silver hound they called Scraggle. These werewolves never transformed back into humans, which Hagrid had explained was because werewolves in the Forbidden Forest had corrupted themselves too far, after centuries of twisting their minds and denying their consciences.
This made them good for travelling, if they were trained properly, as they were bigger than regular wolves and carried three times the weight. George yanked a vine hanging from the trees to use as a whip. "On! On!" he called, as the werewolf squealed. Charlie took the vine from Fred and snapped it.
When they arrived at Shell Cottage's bay on the backs of the werewolves, Voldemort's ship was anchored, its green and silver flag billowing from its mast.
"Oh no!" cried Bill. "They've found them. Do you think they're still alive?"
"Let's bring our werewolves on their ship to attack them," said Fred.
"How would we get them out to the ship?" asked Bill.
"Oh, werewolves are excellent swimmers," Charlie quickly explained. "In care of Magical Creatures, I had to go on a field trip to the Forbidden Forest, and we saw one run out and swim all the way across the moat in three seconds!"
"Wagtail, take us to the ship!" commanded George, hanging onto the blue werewolf's neck, as it obeyed his command and splashed into the water. Fred followed on Scraggle.
"Fred, George!" called Bill. "If you leave Charlie and I here, mum will say we're not responsible!"
But Fred and George were too far by now, and soon arrived at the hull of the ship. Bill and Charlie could only watch their silhouettes climb the rope ladder and disappear.
Wormtail grumbled and kicked a seashell across the deck, before adjusting his eyepatch. When he looked up, identical boys kicked sand into his eyes, and he was pinned to the ground by their growling pet dog. More sand was dumped over his head, and soon he was buried with only his head sticking out.
"Are you a Death Eater?" asked George. "Scraggle, kill!"
"No, please!" Wormtail's wand rolled across the deck, so Fred grabbed it. Scraggle stood over him, growling in his face.
"Haha!" laughed Fred. "Do you know any good spells to do to him, George?"
"Give us all your information, or die!" commanded George.
"I know which tree your grandfather is," squeaked Wormtail. "If you kill me, no one will ever know or be able to find him."
"Our grandfather?" asked Fred. "Where is he? Tell us. Or it's not a deal, and the werewolf will kill."
The wolf began chewing his shoe. Wormtail screamed. "He's the willow tree shading-OW!-Rowena! Get him off!"
"How do you know?" asked Fred, but Wormtail wriggled free and rolled across the deck, away from the wolf. It bounded over to pin him again. Wormtail pushed his arms against the wolf, but it dragged him by his shirt collar and threw him over the side of the ship.
"Good job, Scraggle!" cheered Fred.
"What's happened to Wagtail?" asked George.
Wagtail was hunched over a shrivelled body, on the other side of the deck.
"Who is that? Did you kill someone?" Fred and George wandered to Wagtail's side, Scraggle following behind them.
They both stopped and screamed. Voldemort's body was withered, and Wagtail growled over it. A cracked, blackened ring shaped like a dragon with emerald eyes lay next to him, and he was moaning. Then the weakened Dark Lord turned his head toward the twins, who bolted to the rope ladder, down it, and across the water on their werewolves back to shore.