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Treasure Of Gryffindor
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Chapter 3 - Barbados
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It was nearly noon before Hermione and Ginny left the dress shop. They had seen quite a few lovely frocks that they would have liked to own; but they knew better than to waste money on something that would likely never get worn. As they wandered up the main street, looking in all the shop windows, they were hailed by a shout.

Oi! Ginny! Hermione!

It was Ron, hurrying along with Harry by his side. With a slight glimmer of amusement, Ginny noted that Hermione's cheeks had turned faintly pink at the sight of her elder brother. She was pretty sure Hermione liked Ron, but was too shy to say anything. And Ron was too thick to get the idea. But, Ginny decided, perhaps she could give them a little.... nudge. She beamed and took Harry's arm. Harry! Just the lad I was looking for. Come with me, please, you've got to see this - Ron, would you mind showing Hermione around while I steal Harry for a moment?

Er - not at all, Ron said, looking a trifle bemused. Hiding a triumphant smile, Ginny dragged Harry off down the street, leaving Hermione and Ron standing awkwardly in front of a pub. Hermione suddenly felt as if her heart had leapt into her throat; she shuffled her feet nervously. She had never been alone with Ron before. Ginny's hunch had been correct - Hermione liked Ron, quite a lot, but was too shy to say so.

Ron was looking everywhere but Hermione, hands shoved deep in his pockets. A flush was slowly spreading across his tanned, freckly cheeks. He didn't seem anxious to start a conversation, and Hermione wondered if perhaps it was up to her; after all, her mother had always taught her that a good hostess never let conversation falter. But she was saved when Ron spoke up suddenly.

Look. It's Bill, and he's got that Fleur girl with him, he said. Hermione turned to look. Sure enough, Bill was strolling along the street hand-in-hand with Fleur. It looked as if they were heading out of town. Ron sniggered. Guess they're looking for a place to be alone.

They make a cute couple, Hermione said. Aren't you happy for your brother?

I suppose. Though I can't imagine Fleur's fiancé in America would be very thrilled. Say, how about a lager?

Erm - Hermione hesitated for a second. Well - all right. She followed Ron into the dark, gloomy pub. After all, she was a pirate now, not the merchant's daughter who had left London almost four months ago. One drink couldn't hurt... right?

---

It ees lovely up Fleur said to Bill, holding on to his arm with one hand and holding her long skirts above the grass with the other. (Mrs. Weasley had managed to alter some of Andromeda's old, outgrown gowns to fit Fleur, so that she need not have to dress like the crew.) She rather liked being with Bill, and after several weeks at sea, Fleur was beginning to get over her fear of the pirates. They really could not have been more courteous to her, or more friendly. They were nothing like the pirates she had heard about. Even the captain (whom Fleur had heard tales of at her home in Paris; he was said to be one of the bravest, most clever, and most ruthless pirates around) had been wonderful.

Fleur's third day on the ship had started with a request from the captain; he wished to see her in his cabin. After getting into one of the altered gowns and braiding her long hair, Fleur ventured forth to the cabin. The captain answered the door himself, smiling. He was dressed in fine clothes and shining jewels, his own long hair tied back in a queue. It was drastically different from his appearance the night she had arrived aboard the Marauder, and along with Remus' presence, it had been reassuring. After accepting a glass of wine, Fleur sat down at the captain's table, wondering what he wanted from her. He spoke, Remus translated, and Fleur almost spilled the wine all over herself.

I'm not going to send you to your fiancé.

Fleur bit her lip and spoke to Remus. Remus translated for Sirius. What will you do with me, then?

I'm not holding you hostage for your father's money. Nor am I going to sell you as a slave. You shall come with us as far as Barbados, where you may decide if you wish to remain there, or return to France, or be sent to your fiancé; or, if you like, you may remain with us. The decision is all yours, my dear.

Are - are you sure you want to do this?

Of course I am. Though Remus said this quite pleasantly, Fleur saw the steely glint in Sirius' eye that warned her not to question his generosity. What you do is none of my business.

Oh - merci ! Fleur stood and curtsied deeply, unable to stop a joyful smile from appearing on her face. She wouldn't have to return to her tyrannical father, or be forced to marry a complete stranger! She never would have expected the captain to be so lenient with her. Merci beaucoup, monsieur !

Sirius was grinning broadly, even before Remus translated. He took her hand and kissed it. Go on, now. Run along.

She smiled to herself at the memory. He really wasn't so bad.... none of them were, really. And she was quite certain of what she wanted to do now. She wanted to stay with the pirates, for one reason - Bill.

He smiled back at her. I love this island. I look forward to coming here all the time. Luckily, Sirius' friend Dumbledore lives here, and he's essential to the quest for the treasure, so we need to sail here quite often.

'E ees a bit silly, searching for ze Treasure of Gryffindor, Fleur said, stepping over a hummock in the grass. Even at ome, we ave eard ze stories. Zey are all nonsense. Her English was becoming very good, but her French accent was thicker and much more pronounced than Remus'.

He doesn't seem to think so. Bill helped her around a puddle. He's been searching for that treasure since he was sixteen. His cousin Bellatrix is searching for it as well, and she and Sirius have always been fierce rivals. I can't imagine he'd just give up and hand his chances over to her. He ran a hand through his long red hair. Sirius is a very determined person. If he wasn't, none of us would be here right now. Remus would be God-knows-where, in slavery, and Harry would probably be wasting away in Voldemort's dungeons. Be thankful you're on his side.

---

Dumbledore refuses to tell me anything, my lady. Lucius Malfoy, one of the crew aboard the Azkaban, said, speaking to the back of a tall chair. He laughs and says Gryffindor's Treasure is a child's tale and we should stop wasting our time on it. But I could tell he was lying. And Crabbe tells me Dumbledore was seen speaking to Si - your cousin.

Was he now? A tall figure rose from the chair. It was a thin woman with long black hair and narrow, midnight-blue eyes. She was very tan and dressed in delicate ivory breeches and a exquisitely embroidered jacket that exactly matched her eyes. She wore a lot of green gems and silver jewelry, and a gleaming pistol and sword were belted at her waist. This was Bellatrix Lestrange, cousin to Sirius Black and captain of the Azkaban. Lucius fidgeted slightly. His sister-in-law always made him slightly nervous, especially when they were alone together. She had a screw loose about this legendary treasure, and her one goal in life was to find it before her cousin did.

Aye, my lady. Y-your cousin and his crew are here in Barbados right now, though they are at the public docks. He - is ferreting around for information as usual. No one aboard the Marauder ever spoke Sirius' name aloud; to do so would mean certain death.

Thank you, Lucius. Bellatrix still had her back to him, gazing out the window. You may go now. She settled back in her chair as the door shut behind him, and tapped her chin with one long fingernail.

Without a doubt, Sirius merely wanted the treasure so he could add to his fortune, and gain the prestige and awe finding such a legendary treasure would bring. He probably fantasized about making love to that little French lover of his on mountains of gold coins. But did he know what Bellatrix herself knew? Did he know about the power and magical abilities the treasure would bestow on him?

It was said that four legendary treasures existed in the world. Each embodied a quality : bravery, knowledge, kindness, ambition. They had been buried by the four lords and ladies who had come forth from Atlantis for that sole purpose. All four knew Atlantis was doomed, its end foretold by the Seer Cassandra Trelawney, and hid the four treasures in different places around the globe, with only the vaguest instructions on how to find them. Salazar Slytherin's had been perhaps the easiest to find; it was now in the possession of the feared Lord Voldemort and was thought to be the source of his horrific powers. Rowena Ravenclaw's had been discovered in Florence, Italy, and Florence's citizens swore the power of knowledge had flowed forth from the treasure to bring about the Renaissance. Sweet Helga Hufflepuff's treasure was in the possession of a family in the East who were known for their great generosity and mercy. But Godric Gryffindor's treasure remained lost to the world. Gryffindor had left no instructions as to where his treasure might be, and after so many had searched for so long with no success, it was speculated that perhaps Gryffindor had changed his mind, and his treasure sunk into the oceans with Atlantis; others of a more cynical bent murmured that Gryffindor probably hadn't even buried his treasure at all, but kept it for himself.

This was entirely untrue, as Bellatrix knew. Gryffindor had hid his treasure so well that it might take more than just mere mortals to find it. It was said in the stories that the treasure was set with spells and enchantments to keep it from being discovered, and that anyone who did manage to find it would be blessed with magical powers stronger than any ever seen. It was this that made Bellatrix even more desperate to retrieve Gryffindor's treasure; if Sirius got to it first he would finally be able to destroy her, and the rest of the family he so detested.

She sighed and rose from her chair, leaving the cabin and heading abovedecks. Though Dumbledore refused to betray any secrets to her or her crew, she would find a way. It looked like combat between the two crews was inevitable...

---

Remus Lupin closed his eyes, running his fingers through Sirius' long hair, tilting his face towards the sun. A shiver of pleasure ran through his body as Sirius' tongue ran down the side of his neck. There was, he decided, nothing better than swimming with Sirius.

It's so nice here, Sirius murmured against Remus' neck, his warm breath tickling his lover's wet skin. A perfect place to unwind, wouldn't you say?

Oui , my love, Remus said, opening his eyes and smiling. Sirius kissed him again before flipping onto his back and lazily swimming away. Remus followed, shaking his wet bangs out of his eyes. I hope the others are enjoying themselves as much as we are. It will be a while before we return, am I correct?

Unfortunately, yes, Sirius muttered, treading water as he waited for Remus to catch up. It's time to stop screwing around and get it done , Remmie. We've dawdled long enough. Bella's crew might not have a clue, but then again, they could. I'm going to find Gryffindor's treasure this time. Mark my words.

They swam back to shore, emerging naked and dripping from the clear blue water to stretch out in a patch of sun. Remus sighed inwardly. He would never dream of trying to quash Sirius' determination, but he was beginning to wonder, like the rest of the crew, if the quest wasn't completely hopeless. He remembered telling Dumbledore he would follow Sirius until he died if he must. He meant it completely, and never wanted to be parted from Sirius; but if the quest was over... just for once, Sirius might look at him without the glazed hint of madness in his eyes....

But then Sirius kissed him again, and Remus forgot about treasures and quests as he allowed himself to be drawn into his lover's arms in a passionate embrace.

---

Hermione sat clutching her flagon, blinking dully around at her surroundings. She had taken quite a few too many drinks, and her head felt very light and airy. Somehow, she was dizzier now than she had been setting foot on dry land for the first time in months. Ron was gone. He was standing at the bar, flirting with the plump, pretty barwoman, Rosmerta. Shaking her muzzy head in an attempt to clear it, Hermione stood. The floor slanted dangerously away from her, and she had to clutch at a nearby chair to stay upright. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly. She felt very ill, and suddenly getting outside and into fresh air was more important that Ron's whereabouts.

She made her way out of the pub by moving from chair to chair, wobbling. Her head swam, and her vision went in and out of focus. She finally made it out the door. It was a relief to be away from the smoky, smelly inside of the pub, and Hermione felt slightly better. She made it almost all the way to the beach before she had to duck behind a shrub and vomit.

That's the last drink I take, she choked, holding her hair away from her face. Wrinkling her nose at the smell, she moved away from the puddle of sick, making it a few yards away before her legs gave out and she collapsed to the warm, white sand. She closed her eyes, fumbling for her hanky to wipe her mouth. The salt air on her face was a small comfort.

Blimey - Hermione! Someone dropped to their knees beside her. Hermione recognised Charlie's voice. What happened?

Too much to drink, she slurred, leaning against his shoulder.

Charlie swore. I can see that. What in the bloody hell possessed you to get drunk?

Hermione moaned as she was picked up. She clung to Charlie, her eyes closed tightly against the painful glare of the sun. Went in with R- hic! - Ron, she managed.

I should have guessed. I'll bring you someplace to rest, okay?



It's about time you met Dumbledore, Charlie said simply. Being carried in his arms was a very soothing feeling. Hermione rested her cheek against his shoulder and went to sleep.

---

She awoke hours later to feel someone sponging her forehead with cool water. She blinked. An old man with a long silver beard and moustache, with hair to match, was bending over her. He didn't look the least bit familiar.

Ah. Did you sleep well, my dear?

Hermione winced as she tried to sit up. Her head ached, and the old man shook his head quickly and gently pushed her back down.

No, no, my dear. It looks like you've got yourself quite a hangover, he said, smiling. He folded the damp cloth and placed it on her forehead. I have a few remedies I can make for you, but lying still is a good start to recovery. He rose and crossed the room to where a table was laden with all manner of bottles and packets. The old man rummaged through these, selecting certain things and adding them to a mortar.

Hermione asked faintly.

I am Albus Dumbledore, keeper of records and maps, the old man answered. And to some, I'm a healer and magician - a kind of witch doctor, if you will.

Are you a wizard? Hermione couldn't help asking.

Dumbledore chuckled quietly as he mixed the solution in the mortar. I am not what one would call a wizard. I know a few simple magics, but it is mostly due to my knowledge of obscure healing matters that lead these simple folk to call me such. I have learnt from the Druids, my dear, but I am not one myself. If you wish to call me a wizard, I would not be offended, but I assure you I cannot disappear into thin air or levitate a dragon. He poured the mixture into a glass and returned to Hermione's bedside. But I am surprised that a young woman such as yourself should find herself in such a predicament! What caused you to drink so much, my child?

Hermione sipped warily at the glass Dumbledore offered. The mixture tasted very bitter, but almost immediately her head felt better. She drained the glass before answering. I went into a pub with a friend. I meant only to have the one drink, but I guess I got carried away...

Dumbledore took the empty glass and smiled. I'm sure you will exercise great caution in the future. But for now, rest... rest... His voice faded as Hermione's eyelids drooped, and she drifted off peacefully to sleep.

---

Less than a week later, the Marauder was ready to set sail. Hermione was disappointed; she had been enjoying Barbados immensely and had wanted to stay a little longer. But there was no arguing with the captain, so after bidding goodbye to Dumbledore, she boarded the ship with the rest of the crew, feeling decidedly gloomy. She and Ginny were in charge of squeezing every crate and barrel of supplies into the hold, accompanied by Luna Lovegood, the girl who claimed her mother had been eaten by Poseidon. Luna gave off an aura of distinct battiness; she always wore large earrings in the shape of what appeared to be radishes, and a string of rum corks around her neck. But she was a decent sort of girl, and Hermione didn't mind her too much.

I know why we're setting off in such a blasted hurry, Ginny said, as the three girls stacked bag upon bag of flour and wheat in one corner. Percy says there's a rumour going round that Bellatrix Lestrange and her crew are someplace on the island too, and are also planning on setting out to find the treasure.

Hermione shuddered. By now, she had heard enough tales and stories about Bellatrix and her crew to be sufficiently worried. I hope we don't run into them.

So do I, but we shouldn't let down our guard. Bellatrix and Sirius truly loathe each other, and if they so much as pass within a hundred miles of us Sirius will want to engage her in battle. Ginny said, as they rolled barrels of salt pork against the wall.

Are they really as scary as the stories say? Hermione asked. Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but Luna beat her to it.

The Azkaban is the scariest ship ever to sail the seven seas, she said, her slightly mad eyes widening. It's said she has black sails and the crew is destined to die at the jaws of a giant sea monster! And the captain has black magic ordinary people can only dream of. She can summon the ghosts of her dead ancestors to attack the unwary -

That's not true, Luna, Ginny said, rolling her eyes. The Azkaban has black sails, but that's about it. I doubt Bellatrix can summon her dead ancestors. She turned to Hermione. But the stuff you hear about them in London is true. The whole crew is bloodthirsty and violent, and they've done loads of horrible things. It's been rumoured that they're in league with Lord Voldemort...

If that were true, wouldn't they know where Gryffindor's treasure is? Hermione wondered.

I don't think so. The four treasures have little connection to one another. Perhaps, if all four were reunited, something might happen - but Voldemort would never give up Slytherin's treasure.

George poked his head through the hatch. Oi! We're leaving. Captain needs us all on deck to shove off.

The girls abandoned their barrels for the moment and climbed above deck. Hermione bit her lip as she and Ginny went to help untie the ship. This was looking less and less fun as time rolled on. Well, she had wanted adventure, and it looked as if she'd soon have more than she bargained for.

To Be Continued.