I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred, InquisitorCOC for betareading.
Chapter 13: The Clean-Up
Godric's Hollow, Devon, Britain, July 9th, 1996
Sirius Black jumped up when someone knocked at the door of his best friend's home. The war had been over for almost fifteen years, but old habits died hard. And with Harry kidnapped by someone who was able to hide from Dumbledore, pretty much anything was possible.
He drew his wand and cast a Human-presence-revealing Spell before stepping to the side to get a better angle at the door. Just in case.
James did the same on the other side.
Lily looked at them, then turned and approached the door - with her own wand drawn. "Yes?"
"It's me."
Peter! That was Peter's voice!
He didn't lower his wand, though. No matter how much he wanted to know what Peter had found out.
Lily opened the door and let their friend enter.
"Hi, everyone," Peter nodded at them. He didn't look wounded or cursed, Sirius noted. He quickly changed to smell him. Same scent. A little ratty, and oh so interesting traces of strange smells. Exotic ones. And food.
"Padfoot, stop slobbering over Peter," Lily snapped.
Oh, right. He changed back.
"Did you find Cobblespun?" James asked in a tight voice.
Usually, Lily would chide James for such a lack of manners, Sirius knew. But with their child missing…
"Hello, Peter," Sirius returned the greeting. "Have a seat."
"Yes, of course," Lily quickly added. "Have you eaten already?"
"Don't worry about that," Peter replied.
"That means he hasn't," Sirius said, snorting. "You're in luck - we haven't eaten dinner yet, either."
"Really…"
"Oh, please." James shook his head. "Now…?"
Peter nodded. "I've found Cobblespun's location in France."
Sirius frowned. The way Peter worded it… "But not him."
His friend grimaced. "I couldn't get him." He sighed and pulled out a map from his plain, very plain robes. "He's hiding in the Magical Quarter of Paris. In La Folie de Morgane."
James and Lily looked lost, but Sirius knew the name. "The best hotel in Paris. And the oldest." His family wouldn't have used any other hotel on the rare occasions they visited France.
"And one of the most secure," Peter added. "I could sneak in and verify his presence, but I didn't see a way to get him."
"But if he's staying there, he must have more money than expected," James said, frowning. "Or someone's protecting him. Perhaps someone he sold stolen loot to."
"They would be killing him instead," Sirius pointed out.
"He might've taken precautions," Peter told them. "A dead man's switch, maybe."
"From what we know of him, he doesn't strike me as a particularly clever criminal," James said.
"But not a particularly dumb one, either," Peter retorted. "He's slippery."
"Can we send the French after him?" Lily asked.
James scoffed. "The bastards won't lift a finger for us. Not after Dumbledore's latest disagreement with the Duc over their treatment of muggleborns."
Sirius nodded. In hindsight, that had been unfortunate timing. Not that the bastard didn't deserve it - his 'concerns about the loyalty of muggleborns' were just a pretext to keep the French purebloods in power. Though, to be fair, the French muggleborns were pretty rowdy, so to speak - they didn't like living in an absolute monarchy.
"Anyway, I need some help to extract Cobblespun," Peter said.
"We'll help!" James said. "Let's go!" he blinked. "I mean, let's go after dinner!"
Sirius raised his finger. "I don't think the Head Auror should go and kidnap someone in France. They might blame our Ministry for it - if they find out."
James bared his teeth at him. "I don't care."
And Lily didn't look like she cared, either. Great. Sirius sighed. "But you should."
"If they won't help us, then I don't care what they think!" James scoffed.
"But they could rile up more countries against us," Sirius pointed out.
"And the more trouble they make for Britain, the busier Dumbledore will be," Peter added.
That, at last, made James hesitate.
Sirius quickly told him: "And Malfoy and his ilk will try to use this against you. Try to force you to resign. Right when Harry needs you in the Ministry."
James glared at him, but Lily placed a hand on his shoulder. "James… we'll go. We're not working for the Ministry."
"Everyone knows Peter works for Dumbledore."
Peter grinned. "But in a private capacity."
"So, I'll have to stay back while everyone else goes to France?" James clenched his teeth.
"Not everyone. Remus would cause a scandal as well," Sirius said. France's stance on werewolves was… well, drastic.
"The Scandinavians would like it, though," Peter snorted.
"And you? You're a member of the Wizengamot!" James told Sirius.
"Which isn't a part of the Ministry," Sirius countered. "And as a Black, my name carries some weight."
"Everyone knows where you stand with regards to muggleborns," Lily pointed out.
"Oh, yes, they do," Sirius agreed. "But I'm still a Black." His family had a reputation, after all. A well-deserved one, which meant it would be harder to pin whatever he did on the Ministry.
Not that Sirius was planning to get caught, anyway.
Unknown Location, July 9th, 1996
They had killed the wyvern! A huge, dragon-like creature, and they had managed to kill it. They were finally safe! They didn't have to hide in a bunker any more, afraid to go out! No more looking at the sky in fear, either! Their hard work had finally paid off! Together, they had done it! Yes!
Hermione Granger tilted her head a little, shifting her stance and moving one hand up to grip his hair as she kissed back. This was like in the books, only better. She was...
She blinked. She was kissing Potter!
Gasping, she pulled back and stared at him. What the…? She felt her cheeks heat up - she was blushing.
He blinked, then his eyes widened, and he gaped at her. "Merlin's balls! I… we..." He trailed off, obviously at a loss for words, shaking his head with his mouth open.
Why was he shocked? He had started this! Or was he… And they were still holding each other, she realised. Stiffening, she took a step back, releasing him, and took a deep breath. "We kissed. In the heat of the moment." She nodded at her own, clipped words. "After days of stress and near-death experiences, such a reaction is quite normal. It doesn't mean anything." It better not mean anything.
He nodded in return, taking a shaking breath. "Right. Just the heat of the moment."
"Right." She nodded sharply and suppressed the sudden feeling of anger and... whatever. This was just some emotional outbreak due to stress and relief. He was Potter, for Heaven's sake! She pressed her lips together before clearing her throat. "So… we need to deal with the corpse," she explained. "It'll attract scavengers and, once it starts decaying, a huge amount of insects. And it will present a sanitary risk in short order." Focusing on the next task would help get over this… lapse in judgement.
"Well, it was a sanitary risk before," he replied, pointing at the stinger, which had stopped twitching but was leaking a clear liquid.
The muscles controlling the venom gland must have relaxed in death, releasing the venom. "If we had a secure container, we could catch some of it, but since we don't, we probably should just vanish the venom."
"Right." He nodded and pointed his wand at the patch of grass under the tip of the stinger. "Evanesco."
The grass and part of the soil vanished. Not the stinger, though. Of course, that was part of the carcass - which was far too big to be vanished.
"Oh. We should cut the stinger off - it'll make a good trophy!" Potter said.
"A trophy?"
He grinned at her. "Of course! Otherwise, who would believe that we've killed a wyvern?"
He was worried about bragging? She shook her head. "We could've found the stinger."
He narrowed his eyes as if he was thinking about this. "Do you know any spells to preserve meat?"
"No. Nor any spells to cure leather." And she wasn't about to try and cure the wyvern's leather the muggle way. No, thank you. Even though it would be a lot of leather, and the things they could do… No.
"Damn. But we'll keep the skull, too. And the claws. Probably the bones as well," Potter went on.
"You want to strip the skin and flesh off the bones?" She raised her eyebrows. The creature was huge.
"Uh…" He grimaced. "Well, we can cut the head and claws off, and then…" He blinked. "Are you sure there isn't a way to find out if wyvern meat is edible?"
"None that we have access to, except for trying it and hoping to not die from it," she told him. "We could attempt to eat small pieces, but with magical creatures, even that could prove fatal. And I would rather save my bezoar for an actual emergency."
"So, no wyvern steaks, then." He nodded. "So, let's cut off the head and stinger, then start vanishing the spikes and… bury the thing in the pit or cut it into pieces and vanish them?"
"We'd need more earth to cover the carcass, so vanishing it would be easier," she pointed out. Marginally easier - they would have to cast a lot of Cutting Curses to dismember the body.
"You're right. Too bad about all the leather… we could have used it as a sail for a raft."
"You're already planning to build a raft?"
He shrugged with a wide grin. "I'm thinking ahead."
"Skipping ahead is more likely," she corrected him. "We have to deal with the corpse here, first, and then we should explore the island before we try building a raft."
"Do you honestly expect people to live on the same island as a man-eating wyvern?" He raised his eyebrows at her.
She frowned in return. "No. But there could be the remains of a settlement." She pointed her wand at the wyvern's body. "Let's start. After treating your wounds." The way he moved, they couldn't really be serious, but they had to make sure.
"Right."
He didn't look happy, she noticed. Well, this would be dirty and exhausting work. At least he didn't insist that he was fine.
Harry Potter sighed and shook his head. The sun was setting soon, and they were still dealing with the wyvern's corpse. Half of it was gone, at least. Gone to where things went when vanished. But half of it was still there. And it smelt. Would have, at least, if he hadn't cast a Bubble-Head Charm. "I didn't think it would be this bad," he said.
"What? The offal that is dripping out of the pierced intestines? Or the swarms of flies covering it? Or the ichor in its face?"
"Everything," he told her. And his shoulder still hurt a little, but he wouldn't whine about that.
"You've never visited a slaughterhouse, have you?" Granger asked him, using her wand to restore her ponytail.
"Have you?"
"Yes." She pursed her lips. "We were on a school trip."
"You went to a slaughterhouse? On a school trip?" He gaped at her. Before Hogwarts - she must have been… well, little.
"My teacher wanted to show us where meat came from." She shrugged. "It was very educational, but not all parents shared that view. There was quite a scandal of sorts."
He could very well imagine little Granger standing next to a butcher and pestering them with question after question. "Well, I doubt that there were as many flies as we've got here." The slaughterhouse would've been shut down by the police otherwise. At least he hoped so - he wouldn't be able to eat in any muggle restaurant any more, otherwise.
"No, there weren't as many flies," she confirmed before vanishing a cut part of the beast's stomach. "Though are you certain that you want a trophy?"
"Yes!" It would impress everyone. He vanished the remains of the left wing.
"Then leave me out of it," she told him.
"What?" That made no sense. Granger was a glory hound, always seeking praise from the teachers. And Flitwick would be so impressed by their plans! Why wouldn't Granger want some recognition?
"Luna and Professor Hagrid won't be happy. We've talked about this, remember?"
He winced. Yes, they had talked about it. Damn. Yes, Luna and Hagrid would be devastated. They might accept that they didn't have any choice but to kill the wyvern, but to take a trophy… He could imagine them looking at him with that hurt expression, Luna sniffling and acting as if he had just killed a kitten, and Hagrid would be outright crying.
Harry clenched his teeth and frowned at her.
She shrugged. "I assume that you'll have to be content with being the youngest Seeker in a century as your most important claim to fame."
He scoffed. "We'll tell our parents the truth, at least." That would impress them.
"Of course. And the Ministry. I assume that the authorities will be most interested in an abandoned magical isle." She nodded, then vanished the next part of the wyvern's guts.
"I doubt that the Ministry will take possession of it. Not unless Dumbledore intervenes personally," he told her.
"Or the Minister figures out a way to sell the island and pocket the profit."
He laughed at that. "Hidden island, slightly used."
She chuckled in return and bent to levitate more of the intestines out of the corpse.
He followed her example. They had to use as much daylight as they could - working with just one Wand-Lighting Charm would be a pain in the butt. And Harry really didn't want to sleep next to the island's biggest carrion buffet. Sure, the odds of another big predator being around weren't good - but a swarm of smaller creatures might be even more dangerous if they surprised them.
He cast a series of Cutting Curses at the main body of the beast, aiming for the spots where the skin had been torn by spikes. That would allow them to vanish the different pieces. Once they were small enough.
"I really want a shower," Granger complained as they finally entered their shelter.
"You cast a dozen cleaning charms," Harry pointed out.
"It's psychological. I don't really feel clean," she told him.
"Ah." He nodded.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't tell me that you feel clean already."
He didn't, actually - there was a reason Quidditch lockers had showers, after all. Even though any decent player would be able to cast cleaning charm in their sleep, what with all the robes in need of cleaning. But he wasn't going to complain like she was doing. He could fantasise in private about… He remembered his dream. The one in the Quidditch locker room. With Granger.
And she was running her fingers through her hair as if she was in a bathroom. Bloody hell!
He clenched his teeth. This was just hormones. And stress. And the heat. And the exhaustion.
And Granger's fault for showing off her legs.
"Dinner?" he asked.
She blinked. "Right." Nodding, she added: "We can build a shower tomorrow. It shouldn't be hard to create a tank to hold water. Although creating a seal for the showerhead… maybe a bathtub would be better. We can easily fill it with water, though it would be cold, I think. Relatively."
That might be pretty refreshing in this heat. On the other hand, bathing in cold water wouldn't be very comfortable. He chuckled - the thought of Granger sitting in a bathtub full of cold water… And now he wished he had a bathtub full of cold water. Or at least a cold shower. Damn.
Granger hadn't noticed, at least. "I guess we could use the sun to warm the water up, but that would increase the risk of detection."
"Transfigure it to metal and use a fire," he suggested.
"That would work, I guess. A little primitive, and not good for indoors, but we will be able to have hot baths." Granger seemed oddly happy about that.
"Both mixed bathing, I hope," he commented.
She blushed a little. "I'm talking about a bathtub, not a swimming pool."
"Yes?" He didn't know why he said this. Or why he grinned.
She stared at him with her mouth half-open for a moment. "Ha ha ha," she said with a scowl.
He was almost relieved at the familiar expression on her face. Even though it looked sort of hot, too, her lips pursed like that - they were soft, too, he remembered...
Damn.
What was wrong with Potter? Hermione Granger couldn't understand the boy. They had finally, and at great risk, killed the wyvern. As much as she disliked admitting it, Potter had shown great courage and skill during the fight. He'd been almost noble - a far cry from his usual, puerile behaviour.
And now he was making off-colour jokes about 'mixed bathing'. Really! It was perfectly natural that she wanted a bath or at least a shower! Cleaning charms just weren't enough to feel clean. That was no reason to make fun of her.
"Let's eat dinner," she said.
"Yes. I think we'll have coconut today?" He grinned.
She snorted. He could be funny. Sometimes, at least. Hell, if he weren't such an entitled arse most of the time, he'd be quite nice. And he wasn't bad looking…
She pressed her lips together and focused on carving up and enlarging their dinner. She wasn't going to dwell on this. Or on her lapse after killing the wyvern.
"Here," she said, levitating the coconut slices to the table.
"Thank you."
She nodded as she sat down. "You're welcome."
Coconut did get old after a few days of eating it exclusively. She still ate until she didn't feel hungry any more. "We need to make plans," she said, sipping coconut milk.
"Plans?"
"To explore the island," she explained, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. If Potter could be civil, then so could she.
"We pick a direction, clockwise or counter-clockwise, and start walking?" He shrugged. "Though we need a way to find our way back to this place, I guess."
"Yes." She nodded. They were in the middle of the jungle - finding this place again wouldn't be easy, it wasn't as if they were too close to the beach. "We could leave a marker in the trees above, but…"
"...others could spot it as well."
"Yes. Though that is the case with any marker or sign," she said. They could create another shelter, of course. But she didn't want to go through everything again. Though if they had to search for days for this place, then that would waste even more time...
"That's true." He leaned forward. "So, what do you have in mind?"
She blinked, surprised. "How did you know that?"
"The way you're outlining the problem. Like Flitwick." He grinned again.
She narrowed her eyes. This comparison might sound flattering at first glance, but Potter had teased her about lecturing others too often to take him at face value. On the other hand, they needed to plan. "Yes. We'll make a compass."
"A compass?" He blinked.
"Do you know the Four-Point Spell?" She tilted her head. "It always points the caster north. We can use that and a carefully cut piece of wood to make a compass. That way, we can navigate the island without leaving markers." In theory. She remembered reading a book about scouts, back when her parents had tried to get her to go outside more often instead of reading books.
"Ah."
"So, do you know it?"
"No." He shrugged. "Never saw a reason to learn it."
"I'll teach you, then," she said. If they were ever separated, he'd need it to find his way back so they could meet up again.
"Why did you learn it?" he asked.
Because she had hoped that she could modify it into pointing at specific people and things, once she knew enough Arithmancy. Of course she hadn't known that that wouldn't work. "It seemed to be an interesting spell," she half-lied.
"Ah."
"And a useful spell in case you end up lost in the wilderness," she added. "Like now."
"Apparition would've been more useful," he replied.
"Unless the island is covered by Anti-Apparition Jinxes."
He shook his head. "It's too large for that. And we don't know if it's an island."
He was right. In theory. "I think we would've seen at least a glimpse of the rest of the coast if it were a peninsula. It would have to be a very particular and very narrow peninsula."
"Right." He grinned. "Just pointing out that we don't know if we're on an island. You know, since you didn't."
She rolled her eyes. That wasn't nearly as funny as Potter thought it was. Not at all, actually. "Yes. Now, let's teach you the spell."
"Right now?"
"So we have the whole day tomorrow for our exploration," she explained with a grin. "Provided you can learn the spell quickly enough."
He frowned in return but then matched her grin. "If I don't, then it'll be the fault of the teacher."
She glared at him, but he only smiled at her. Great.
She sighed, then raised her wand. "Now, watch my movements…"
"Point Me!" Harry Potter all but yelled the incantation. Sure, everyone said that saying it louder didn't help, but he felt better yelling it.
And he - finally! - also felt the tug on his wand as it was pulled towards a certain direction.
"Hah!" He smiled widely.
"About time," Granger commented.
He rolled his eyes. "How long did it take you to learn the spell?"
"An hour. Without a teacher," she told him, smiling widely.
He frowned. He had taken two hours. "That must have made the difference," he said.
She gaped at him for a moment, then pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Typical!" she muttered.
"I was joking," he defended himself, though he didn't know why.
"Right."
He swallowed his retort. He had been joking, after all. It wasn't his fault that Granger didn't believe him. Well, it was his fault, but only a little - Granger shouldn't take everything so seriously. "Thanks."
She narrowed her eyes, then nodded. "My pleasure." Very polite and with as much warmth as a glacier.
Somehow, that felt worse than a heated insult. "I'm sorry," he added.
She frowned again, then nodded, more slowly. "We've been - we are - under a lot of stress."
He nodded as well. That was as good an excuse as anything else. "So," he said after a moment, "How are we going to do it tomorrow? Hike around the island along the beach? Fly up to the mountaintop?"
"Levitate," she corrected him. "And that would expose us to anyone observing the island."
"Not if we stick to the ground. Mostly," he retorted. "We'd have to fly under the canopy, but once we hit the slopes?" It was hard to spot a broom flying close to the ground from afar.
"Right. And we would be able to look around from the top." She nodded again. "But we'd also be close to the wyvern's lair."
"It's empty now," he pointed out.
"Yes, But if this is - was - a sanctuary, then whoever owns or controls it might have left spells on the lair to check on the creature," she told him. "If the spells don't register the wyvern coming and going regularly, they would have a reason to check."
That sounded reasonable. But… "It's just an assumption."
"But not an unreasonable one," she countered. "And we don't have to enter the lair. If we even find it."
"Right. And we'll be able to confirm if we're on an island or not." Not that Harry doubted that.
"And whether or not the island has a settlement. Or had one - we might also be able to spot ruins since a settlement would've been built at the coast."
"Yes." He checked his watch. It was getting late. No, it was late. He stifled a yawn, then caught Granger yawning. "I think we should head to bed."
"You go to bed," she told him. "I'll take the first watch. It's my turn."
"You're more tired than I am."
"I won't fall asleep," she said.
He wanted to argue - she looked like she'd fall asleep as soon as she sat down - but her expression stopped him.
Well, even if she fell asleep, they had killed the wyvern and should be safe enough for one night. And if she fell asleep and failed to wake him up, he had something to hold over her for the next argument over who got to sleep first.
"Good night."
"Good night."
Unknown Location, July 10th, 1996
She was showering. He could hear it. Could hear the water hit her before dropping on the ground. Could hear her moan softly, obviously enjoying it. And if he closed his eyes, he could imagine how she looked, standing under the falling water, running her hands over…
He shivered and opened his eyes. He was standing guard, after all. He couldn't close his eyes. And he couldn't look away, either - what if something or someone approached from behind the flimsy partition that separated the shower from his guard post?
He looked at her. Her thick mane was plastered to her head and shoulders. He could see her calves, slick with water, and her feet on the polished stones forming the floor of their shower. Everything between her shoulders and her knees was hidden by the divider.
Then she raised her arms over her head, adjusting the shower, and he looked away. This was… torture. He took a few deep breaths. She was so close, so… Damn. And Hot. It was hot. He felt hot.
He realised that the shower had stopped and blinked. She was done? Already?
He turned to ask and froze. She had stepped around the divider and was walking towards him. She didn't have a towel.
He stared. "Ah…"
She didn't say anything - she just kept walking until she stood in front of him. Then she hugged him, and their lips met, and… and…
"Wake up, Potter. It's your turn."
He woke up with a gasp.
Granger was staring at him. Then she yawned. "Wake me in the morning."
She turned and headed to her bed without further words. Had he talked in his sleep? Had she heard anything… He didn't remember saying anything in his dream, but… it was a little fuzzy.
And… well, he was still covered by his blanket. Good.
But a shower - a cold shower - would be really handy right now. He snorted. Who would have thought that thoughts of Granger would do that to him?
She moaned. A hot bath - a luxury she had gone without for far too long. She stretched her legs, shifting a little in the huge tub, then raised one out of the water so she could rub a sponge over it, sighing as the spells on it cleaned her skin and pores. A copy of her first sponge - a birthday present from Lavender, she remembered. It came with a set of refilling special shampoo. Not that her hair needed it - it was thick and lustrous with just one charm. Which was good since she didn't have her shampoo with her.
She ran her free hand through it, flicking her mane back. Perfectly styled for a bath. Or for anything.
She lowered her leg, then raised the other, running her sponge over it. It had taken a lot of effort to duplicate the sponge, but it was worth it.
And the same went for the bath, of course. But what decent home wouldn't have a bath?
"Hermione?"
Ah. "I'm in the bath!" she called out.
"There you are!"
And there he was. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with that cocky, handsome smile on his face, his bare chest still wet with sweat, his hair tousled by the wind… Dear Lord, he was sexy!
And he thought the same of her - she could feel his eyes roaming over her.
Smiling, she licked her lips. "You look like you could use a bath," she told him.
"I feel like I could use a bath," he replied, pushing off from the frame and stepping into the bathroom.
"Fortunately, I've prepared a bath already," she said.
"How thoughtful." He nodded and started stripping.
She wet her lips again as she watched his toned, muscular body move as he shimmied out of his tight pants, then turned to face her.
Yes.
"And I can help wash your back," she added when he reached the tub.
"How kind of you." He smiled as he climbed into the tub, and she sat up to better…
"You know me, Potter. You know me so well…"
"Wake up, Granger."
She blinked. Another dream. Another of those dreams. And with Potter. She glared at him, and he recoiled.
"It's morning," he said. "You wanted to get up early, remember?"
Right. She nodded. "Yes. Thank you." She smiled at him.
He blinked, then shook his head. "I'm going to prepare breakfast."
"Coconut?" she asked, tilting her head as he turned away.
He snorted. "That's my line."
She snorted in return. But as soon as he had left her bedroom, she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. What was wrong with her? Sure, Potter was reasonably handsome and not completely insufferable as long as he could keep his tongue in check, but there were far more handsome boys and men she could dream of, weren't there? And she had a very good imagination.
It was the stress and their isolation. It had to be.
She shook her head as she moved to their table, then cast a hairstyling charm to tame her mane. Potter had breakfast ready. Not that it took much preparation - just a few spells to enlarge and cut the coconut and place it onto their improvised plates. "Thank you," she said anyway.
"It's my pleasure to serve you, Miss," he replied, giving her a quick bow. "I'm sorry for the lack of alternatives, but we're faced with a slight shortage of other food."
She snorted. "Your waiter's impression needs some work."
"That was my gentleman's impression," he told her.
"You sounded more like a butler," she retorted.
"Who would be a gentleman's gentleman, right?" He grinned at her.
She pursed her lips. He was technically correct. Technically. She took a bite from her slices of coconut meat before saying: "For a gentleman, you're not very courteous towards a lady."
"You're a lady?" He gaped at her and put his hand on his heart. "I had no idea!"
She glared at him. "What exactly did you think I was instead?"
"A witch?"
"Witches can be ladies, as you would know if you had paid attention in History of Magic."
He snorted. "Binns isn't a teacher but a verbal sleeping pill."
"Yes? It's not for the weak." She grinned.
He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I don't think we should head for the hilltop straight away. Instead, we should explore the area around us. I would prefer to know that there's nothing dangerous nearby - and we'll be able to find the shelter again more easily even if we misjudge the distance travelled."
That was good thinking. With the Four-Point Spell, they would be able to navigate the island - but judging distances wouldn't be as easy. And the spell wouldn't be overly precise, either. So, there would be a rather significant margin of error when they were navigating. She nodded. "I agree. We don't really know much about this area." They hadn't had time to explore. And even if they had the time, it would've been too dangerous with the wyvern still hunting them. If the creature had caught one of them a few hundred yards from the shelter...
Potter seemed surprised. Had he expected her to disagree with a perfectly logical suggestion? "Right. So, we'll slowly widen our perimeter until we know the nearby area."
"It'll also serve as a good way to train casting the Four-Point Spell," she told him.
He grumbled a little at that as he put the 'plates' away - as if he didn't need the exercise; successfully casting a spell was a long way from actually mastering it. "Let's go then."
"Yes." She stood and cast another cleaning charm at herself. "If we're lucky, we'll find a pond nearby."
Now why was he looking at her like that?
Harry Potter suppressed the vivid memories of his weird dream. They were too far from the hill for a waterfall or anything like it, anyway. "So… going south first?" he asked as he stepped outside the shelter.
"I think we should head first to the shore. Knowing the way to and from the ocean will allow us to find our way back faster, should we have to," Granger told him. She took a deep breath, then stretched and rolled her shoulders as soon as she was next to him. "We might want to excavate a small air shaft in the back, to improve the airflow."
He nodded after a moment. "Both sound good."
She tilted her head and glanced at him. "That sounds like you expect me to do the excavating."
He grinned. "Well, if you need help, I would certainly lend you my assistance."
"No, I can do it," she replied with a half-frown. "So… shore?"
He nodded and pointed west. "That would be this direction. West."
She cast her spell, then nodded. "Now… let's go slowly and look for any sort of landmarks." And backtrack often, so we don't get lost."
They'd already gone over that. He rolled his eyes when she walked past him, peering at the jungle in front of them. "And we have to watch that we don't get separated."
"If we do, I'll just summon you," she said with a grin.
"You mean you'll summon my clothes," he corrected her.
She blushed for a moment, then frowned at him. "You know what I mean." With a huff, she walked past him into the jungle.
He made a noncommittal sound as he followed her. Teasing her was fun.
Then he blinked. What? Teasing Granger hadn't been really fun for years.
"Are you coming?" She looked over her shoulder at him.
"Yes. I was just thinking about navigating the jungle," he lied.
"Alright… we've explored our immediate surroundings," Granger said.
"For hours," Harry added.
She frowned at him. "We took two tries to find our way back to the shelter from our first landmark," she reminded him.
"That was our first try. We've gotten better," he retorted.
"We've become more familiar with this area."
"Which was our goal." He grinned. "So, let's go further and reach the shore." He pointed at a palm tree nearby. "We can eat lunch on the way."
Granger sighed but nodded. "Too bad there was no pond. We might've been able to fish."
"Oh, yes… grilled fish…" Just the memory made his mouth water a little. He was sick of coconuts. "That's another reason to reach the shore."
"I'm aware," she said. She cast a spell, then turned. "West is this direction."
"Alright."
They slowly walked on, looking back and trying to memorise the path. Which was harder than it sounded, what with there not actually being any path. "We should leave marks," he said. That would speed up things. A few cuts every few trees...
"That would lead others towards our shelter," she replied.
"We haven't seen any sign of humans on the island," he told her.
"We haven't explored the island - we haven't even verified that it is an island."
He snorted. She just had to be contrarian. Shaking his head, he used his wand to cut a low-hanging branch, then pushed past a bush…
...and stopped at the sight in front of him.
"What? Trouble?" Granger asked from behind him.
"Maybe," he replied, pointing ahead. "There's a hut."
"A hut?" she whispered. A moment later, she was at his side, peering through the dense foliage. "It looks like the remains of a hut," she said.
He nodded. The basic structure seemed intact, but the roof had caved in, and parts of the walls were missing. And it was partially overgrown. "I don't see anyone nearby."
"Me neither," she replied in a low voice.
"I'll go check it out - cover me," he told her.
"Alright."
He slowly approached the ruins. No sign of anyone living there - the grass was unperturbed, no tracks, nothing. But… The canopy above was lighter. And he could see broken branches if he squinted.
Then he reached the hut and saw the claw marks on the tree near it. Wyvern claws. Old marks. And the hut… He tilted his head, looked at the hut, then at the trees, then up.
It looked like the hut had been caved in by the wyvern.
Suddenly, Harry was dreading what he might find inside it.