I'd like to thank Balthazar23, Antar23, werewolfXZ, damadape, TheNarratingMan, WraithNX01, Vahktang, flixus, Lynix, TripsToTheRescue, fredfred, InquisitorCOC for betareading.
Chapter 25: The Lure
Algiers, Algeria, July 17th, 1996
From the balcony of their suite, Fleur Weasley could see the slight shimmering effect that the spells that hid Magical Algiers in the middle of the muggle city had if you stared at the borders between the magical and muggle quarters. The spells that hid this festering boil.
She hated Magical Algiers. She didn't mind the heat - Egypt was, on balance, worse, and she spent a lot of time in the Valley of the Kings there. The architecture was similar as well - not surprisingly, of course, since both Egypt and Algeria were, if only nominally these days, under the control of the Ottoman Empire.
But where Egypt was a slightly backwater area, its claim to fame being the tombs of the pharaohs, attracting both tomb raiders and Curse-Breakers as well as the odd historian or two, Algiers was the centre of the Barbary Coast. Pirates from all over North Africa sailed here to sell their ill-gotten loot. And deal in slaves.
Slaves they kidnapped all over the Mediterranean, sometimes even from as far as the Atlantic Coast of Iberia and France. Wizards and witches, often children since those could be more easily caught and kept by the pirate scum.
And by their clients in the Ottoman Empire, the Sultan first amongst them. Fleur didn't believe for a second that the Sultan had stopped purchasing slaves kidnapped abroad, as his father had promised after Dumbledore had all but stormed his palace decades ago. The Ottomans had merely become a little more discreet, the raids of the pirates a little less frequent. But the Ottomans couldn't rely on their own country to supply their Janissaries and harems. Not with their Empire's provinces becoming more and more independent, unwilling to sell their children to Constantinople's markets.
Which left raiding Europe's coasts for slaves - a trade the Barbary Coast pirates had gladly engaged in for centuries, the increased danger after Grindelwald's War balanced by the increased profits.
She clenched her teeth at the thought of people taken from their homes and families, sold as if they were animals. Magical Algiers had a known slave market, all but doing their filthy business in public! Relatives of hers had been sold there! Just a few years ago, her family had driven off a pirate raid that had struck too close to the Château d'Aigle. If Gabrielle had been outside, far from her home…
She wanted to burn down the entire town hidden by magic. Salt the earth so the pirates would get the message. Clenching her teeth, she felt her anger grow hotter and closed her eyes. She couldn't transform. Not here. Not in muggle Algiers. And certainly not in Magical Algiers.
"Fleur?"
She blinked, then turned, a smile appearing on her face. "Beel." Her anger receded - as usual when she saw her Bill.
He put a tray down on the small table on the balcony. "Room service."
"Ah." She sat down and filled a cup with black coffee, then grabbed a croissant. Bill must have ordered - it was her preferred style. "You could've ordered an English breakfast," she told him. While she wasn't a fan of it, Bill had grown up with it.
He grinned. "Mum will feed us breakfast every day after this."
Fleur nodded. Her mother-in-law was a great if unfortunately very English cook. Fleur had made some inroads with more French dishes at family gatherings, but it was mostly limited to desserts.
"We'll find them," Bill whispered as he buttered a croissant of his own.
"Yes," she replied, though she wasn't convinced. Usually, the Barbary Coast pirates gave the British Isles a wide berth, unwilling to provoke Dumbledore, but that didn't mean British wizards and witches were perfectly safe. Sometimes, they were caught in raids on vacation, sometimes a pirate crew got greedy or too bold or simply made a mistake. And as long as no one knew who had done the deed… Who could say that the newest Janissary in training had been British, after Obliviation and a False Memory Spell? It wasn't as if even Dumbledore could inspect every harem or barrack in Constantinople. But if the victim was too prominent, if the consequences seemed too dangerous…
Who would ever know if a victim was killed and the body vanished without a trace?
No, the muggleborn girl, Miss Granger, could easily disappear into a harem or the Janissaries. But Harry Potter? Son of the Potters? Godson of Sirius Black? Personal friends of Dumbledore?
Fleur hadn't said anything, but they all knew that there was a chance that Harry was dead and vanished already.
Not that this would stop them. They would find the scum responsible. And they would save Harry - or avenge him.
Fleur Weasley once again checked if her cloak was concealing her face and form before entering Magical Algiers through the door hidden inside an arc. A few spells made sure it couldn't accidentally reveal her, but in light of the trouble being recognised, either as the Triwizard Champion of Beauxbatons or simply as a Veela, could cause in the middle of Algiers, she would rather be safe than sorry.
And having to do something helped with her frustration at the whole situation. "We should burn the whole cesspit down," she whispered.
Bill snorted, but Pettigrew shot her a glare. "Don't even joke about this!"
She glared back. "Who said I was joking?"
"It was a joke," Bill stepped in before the spy could say anything else. "We're all a little on edge."
She switched targets and scowled at Bill. She didn't need him to handle Pettigrew. Or make excuses for her; she could stand on her own.
He smiled in return, though she saw him wince a little for a moment.
"Well, in my opinion, the city could only be improved if a few sections of it burned down," Black said with a toothy grin.
"Sirius…" Pettigrew hissed.
"I know, I know, anti-fire wards will prevent this from happening despite our best efforts, and Fiendfyre would get the ICW after us," Black replied, sighing theatrically. "And we'd risk retaliation and blah blah. But a wizard can dream, can't he?"
Fleur nodded. She knew all the arguments - had heard them before several times. Though she also knew that the ICW cared only for the statute of secrecy. If only Dumbledore were willing…
"Let's go," Pettigrew hissed.
"Right, right!" Black stepped through the veiled gate with a smile on his face. Fleur, Bill and Pettigrew followed.
And they were in Magical Algiers. Fleur clenched her teeth and hunched over a little. They were here for Harry Potter, she reminded herself. And Miss Granger. Not to root out the pirate scum.
Not yet, at least.
They made their way through the bazaar, where Fleur kept some of the riff-raff from pulling on her sleeves - and possibly trying to pick her pockets - by drawing her wand.
"Don't buy anything, Sirius," Pettigrew muttered.
"Don't worry, I don't need anything… although this brooch looks nice, doesn't it?"
"Sirius!"
Fleur gritted her teeth. This wasn't the time for jokes.
Fortunately, they reached Amir's home without incident. The wizard was as congenial as last evening as he welcomed them, even though it was noon now. Fleur almost liked the man - he was a shrewd merchant and a deft hand with his wand in a scuffle, as he had proven in an encounter with bandits, but to live in Magical Algiers…
"Come in, come in! Have a seat! I've got good news!"
She perked up. Good news? Amir was quick to embellish, of course, but he wouldn't lie about good news.
"You found Harry?" Black blurted out.
Amir laughed in return as a servant served tea and coffee. "Unfortunately, no. But I might have a clue." The wizard smiled. "I took the liberty of spreading the rumours of Dumbledore being personally involved in the search for Mr Potter and looking at this town as a possible location of interest."
"And?" Black frowned.
"He's trying to smoke out the pirates who might feel guilty," Pettigrew explained.
"Exactly!" Amir grinned again. "And I am happy to report that as soon as I talked to my good friend Karim, the proud owner of the best café in Algiers, several wizards who make their living at sea, so to speak, left the café post haste. Karim wasn't happy, of course, but he understood that such grave news should be shared."
"Several pirates fled? Can we track them all?" Bill asked.
"We don't have to track them," Amir said. "We merely need to track the waves they make."
"Waves?" Black asked again.
"Not literally," Pettigrew cut in. "The effects on their suppliers and partners. If they leave Algiers earlier than planned, this will show up in changed orders amongst the merchants trading with pirates."
"Indeed!" Amir almost clapped his hand. "And I have friends in the right places. Coupled with my information about which crews were in port, I think there'll be interesting tracks to investigate."
Fleur knew that expression. "You already have a suspect."
Amir nodded. "Khalil Haddad. He is a middleman for the Ottomans. He has missed two appointments this morning - one with the Bey."
"And that proves he is involved?" Black didn't seem to think so. But he didn't look like he'd shy away from pursuing the matter, either.
"No. But he is quite likely to know about the status of various crews," Amir explained. "And if he is getting worried, then some of his contacts must be worried already."
"We need to have a word with the man, then," Black said.
"I can make the arrangements," Amir said.
"Don't stick out your neck too far," Bill told him.
"Oh, this isn't a risk - anyone can see that I'm helping to keep Dumbledore from paying our fair city a visit." Amir's smile widened. "And many will realise that, should anything happen to me, the likelihood of such a visit will increase."
Fleur nodded. She couldn't say whether or not that was true - but the wizards of Algiers would assume so since that was how things worked here. The strong and powerful protected or avenged their clients.
But she knew about Haddad. The man handled both ransoms and slave trading. She almost wished he'd attack them.
Unknown Island, July 17th, 1996
Afternoon. It was far from sunset, but noon was past. Hermione Granger could see the shadows on the ground slowly growing longer again. In a few hours, they would have to move out and start their attack.
She sighed. She wasn't happy with the plan that she and Harry had come up with, but she hadn't been able to think of a better one. And she'd had enough time to consider the matter in the time they had spent waiting - resting according to Harry - since morning. Even counting the hours she had spent napping.
To wait while the idiot risked his life luring the pirates away, betting on his - admittedly considerable - talent on a broom to lose them and return… she didn't like it. Not at all. But any alternative she had thought of - ambush the pursuit somehow, join Harry on the broom to send curses at the chasing pirates - was a worse plan.
She'd even considered abandoning the kidnapped girl and just taking the fishing boat and heading out, but… the pirates would realise that they were compromised, and they would flee and take the girl with them, or, even worse, kill her and vanish the body to hide any evidence of their crime.
Neither she nor Harry would be able to live with that. They had to save the girl.
Even though their plan was too optimistic for Hermione's taste. At least there was a chance that Harry would damage the ship enough for the fishing boats to be needed to support it, which should make it easier to steal one - or board one, to be technical.
She grinned. The thought of going pirate on the pirates had a certain charm to it. But then she reminded herself that they would have to fight pirates to take their boat, and any good humour vanished. They were students - admittedly, talented students if she said so herself - but they were facing experienced adult wizards. Pirates who had preyed on the shores of Europe all their lives. Harry's duelling experience and 'special training' by his godfather wouldn't help much, and Hermione, as much as she loathed to admit it, was worse at duelling than Harry.
Their only chance was to be sneaky. At least they had experience with that. In theory, having surprise on their side and the ability to pick the time and location for their attack should help. A lot, according to the books Hermione had read. But…
It wouldn't be the first time that a plan that had looked perfect failed when she had tried to implement it.
On the other hand, she didn't think their plan was perfect at all, so, perhaps… No! That was superstition. Things didn't work that way.
A small, weak part of her whispered that she should just hide. Keep hiding until someone saved her. Or surrender. They might ransom her, instead of…
She clenched her teeth and buried that part of her. She wouldn't hide and depend on others. She wouldn't abandon Harry or the girl. She would do her part. As well as she could.
"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry's voice interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up from where she was sitting in their small cave. Harry, sitting at the entrance, peering through the slits in the lid covering it, was looking at her. "You looked deep in thought."
She shrugged. "Just thinking of ways to improve our plan," she half-lied.
He nodded. "We've got our work cut out for us." With a smile, he added: "But we'll manage. They won't expect two fugitives to attack their stronghold. Not after we had to run from them."
That was because it seemed like a foolish idea. But she didn't say so. She nodded instead - thinking they would fail would cause them to fail. At least in Harry's case; Hermione was a little more realistic. But she wouldn't drag down Harry's mood either way.
He slid over to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Trust me. We can do this."
"I don't doubt that," she said. They certainly could do it. With a lot of luck.
"But you're worried."
She glared at him. "You better be worried as well! This is dangerous." And he had the most dangerous part!
"I know. But we can do it. We've got a decent plan. And they won't expect us." He flashed her a grin. "And we can hurt them. Damage or even sink their ship."
She nodded. Even if everything went wrong, and she really didn't want to think about that, they would have taken some - admittedly small - revenge.
She leaned into him, wrapping her own arm around him. Sliding a little into his lap. Until she was facing him.
And their lips met.
Harry Potter sighed - softly; he didn't want to wake Hermione napping in his arms - and looked at the ray of sunlight shining through the slit in the lid. The sun was going down. They still had an hour or so left until sunset. A little longer until it was sufficiently dark.
He would have to colour the broom black - no, dark grey, probably - for it, he reminded himself. And his clothes as well. He might even smear some ash on his skin.
He sighed again. He hadn't told Hermione, of course, but he was worried. Their plan was dangerous. It was difficult to hit a wizard on a fast broom, even more so at night, but it wasn't impossible - you just had to be lucky. Or unlucky, in this case. If Harry just had to escape, he wouldn't be worried. But he had to lure the pirates away. That meant making them think they could catch him.
And that meant he would have to stay in sight, in range of their spells for quite some time. The pirates would have a lot of opportunities to be lucky.
He closed his eyes. Hermione probably knew it, anyway - earlier, when they had done it again, she had felt a little…. desperate. Just a little too… as if this was the last time they could be together.
No, he told himself. This wouldn't be the last time. They would beat the pirates, escape the island and return home. With the broom, this was assured as soon as they passed through the wards - all they had to do then was to fly east until they hit land. Mum and Dad would find them. Probably before they reached the coast.
Then they would be home. Back with their friends and family. Back… He clenched his teeth. Things would change. They wouldn't be alone again. Not just the two of them, on an island, any more.
What if this was just stress? Just…
He gently squeezed Hermione.
He didn't want it to be. He didn't want things to return to normal. What they had been before. He wanted to…
He clenched his teeth. He almost wanted to stay on the island with Hermione.
No. That was foolish and selfish. And stupid.
They would get away. And get back home.
An hour later, the sun had set and Harry Potter finished colouring the broom and his clothes dark grey. Mostly.
"You might have to slightly recolour them depending on how cloudy it is," Hermione told him.
"This is for evading over the jungle," he explained. "Not for hovering above the ship." She was about to open her mouth, and he grinned. "And no, once they start hunting me, I won't have the time to recolour anything on the fly - or flight."
Hermione frowned, then nodded. "I'm still not happy with your plan to evade them."
Harry smiled as confidently as he could manage at her. "It'll work." He doubted that the pirates would be able or willing to chase him into the jungle. "And it worked before."
"A levitated plank can't go nearly as fast as this broom," she reminded him. "Don't go all out," she added with narrowed eyes.
"I won't." Unless he had no choice.
She didn't seem to be convinced. "If you fly into a tree or rock in the darkness…"
"I won't," he repeated himself.
They stared at each other for a moment.
"You better not," she whispered, taking a step towards him to hug him. "Or I'll kill you myself."
He snorted almost against his will as he hugged her back, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed and his face pressed into her shoulder and her hair.
"Let's get ready," she said after a while. "Before it gets too dark."
"Alright," he agreed, releasing her - and resisting the urge to hug her again.
"Do you have the spikes?" she asked.
He bit back on a sarcastic comment - Hermione was just nervous. "Yes," he said, patting the robe serving as an improvised pack. "Shrunken and turned to lead."
"Good." She nodded, seemed to hesitate, but then turned away and went to check the cave for anything they might have left behind.
He sighed and watched her, in her shorts and top, another improvised robe-pack slung over her shoulders. If only…
She returned. "The cave's clear. All that remains is camouflage."
"Right." He nodded and grabbed the ash they had prepared. It's like sun lotion, he told himself as he got ready to smear the stuff on himself - and on the parts of Hermione's skin she couldn't reach.
And there was a lot of skin on her to be covered.
Hermione Granger felt dirty. Literally. Her arms and legs and midriff, most of her back and even her face - everything was covered in sticky ash, smeared all over her. She wanted to cast a dozen cleaning charms to get rid of it. At the least.
But since she couldn't cast a Disillusionment Charm or had access to an invisibility cloak, this was the best they could do for camouflage. And they needed every advantage they could get.
At least putting the stuff on had been… enjoyable. When Harry had done it. And she had done it for Harry.
She sighed. She had to focus - she couldn't dwell on fantasies. They were on the way to the pirate village already. Sitting on the broom, behind Harry, she could see the dim lights of their target. "Set us down a little away," she said.
"I know," Harry replied. Well, he should - they had gone over that. But it was better to verify than to assume anything. Especially when it was a matter of life or death. Which attacking a pirate village most certainly was.
She clenched her teeth and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. They had to do this - this was their only chance to escape. That didn't make it any easier, of course. She wanted to close her eyes, hug Harry, forget about everything else and just fly on, to freedom.
But that was impossible. Instead, she studied the village as they approached. The lights looked like during their first visit. Did the pirates think that they had killed Harry and Hermione and were back to normal? Or was that a trap? The ship looked the same as well. Could the pirates really burn down half the island and just keep going on as usual in the village?
It was possible. Would they expect the same people who ran from them and barely escaped to attack them? Probably not. But they didn't know for sure.
They would find out soon, of course. The hard way.
Harry set down about a hundred yards from the edge of the jungle, at the foot of a slight ridge. "This will serve as a landmark," he said.
So he could find her quickly when he returned - every second would count. She nodded. "I'll watch from the ridge." It wasn't perfect - she could only observe half the village, the other half hidden by the trees - but she would have the ship and the prison in view.
"Alright."
They stared at each other for a moment, Harry on the broom, Hermione standing on the ground. She could barely make out his face in the dim light, but it was enough. She leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back. She shivered. If this was the last kiss they ever shared… No! They would make it. They had to.
Then she broke the kiss and pulled back, licking her lips as she stared at him again. "Don't…" She trailed off. 'Don't die' was a stupid thing to say. "Don't take too many risks," she said instead.
He nodded, flashing a grin. "Don't worry."
She scoffed - once. Of course she'd worry. And he had to know it. Just as she knew that the idiot was going to take risks.
He nodded, then shot into the air on his broom.
And Hermione cautiously climbed on top of the ridge to look at the village in front of her - the parts she could observe, at least. In a couple of buildings, the lights were still on, but not on the ship. Would Harry be able to hit it from high in the air? It was a big, stationary target, she reminded herself. And Harry could hover.
She looked at the prison. That building was also dark - if anyone was present, other than the prisoner, then they would be asleep. Or laying in ambush, she suddenly thought, clenching her teeth. She had to keep that in mind when breaking the girl out.
The tavern - the presumed tavern - was busy, though. That didn't seem to indicate an ambush. Unless the pirates were counting on that… She scoffed again. Trying to second-guess the pirates would lead her nowhere. Besides, once Harry started dropping their giant spikes on the pirate ship, any ambushers would probably surge out of their hiding spots and give chase.
That was the plan, after all.
The fishing boat was at its usual place. Good. That would've been embarrassing to miss halfway through the night. But… was that shadow near it someone walking towards it? Or past it?
Past it, she realised as the figure passed a spot of light on the road. Good. Now… how much longer until Harry started dropping the spikes?
She tried to spot him, but it was too far, and the sky too dark.
Exactly as planned, she told herself to try and bury her annoyance. And her worry.
This has to work, she told herself again even as she bit her lower lips, fretting. This will work.
Harry Potter took a deep breath and looked down again. The tiny dark shadow that was the pirate ship was directly beneath him. Well, almost. He nudged his broom forward a little, then turned it towards the village and backed off a yard… one more. Yes.
Now he was directly above the ship.
He licked his lips briefly. This was it. This wasn't a duel. Or hallway fight. This was it. Once he started his attack, he - they - would be committed. Do or die. Literally.
He took another breath and swallowed. Could he do this? Did he have an alternative? He shook his head. No choice but to go forward.
Clenching his teeth and holding his breath, he reached into his pack and pulled out one of the shrunk spikes. This would be tricky.
"Finite!" he whispered, and the spike grew to the size of a small tree trunk, slipping out of his hand at once. He flicked his wand.
"Engorgio!"
Halfway to the ship, the spike massively grew. A second later, it hit the ship's deck - he heard the crashing noise it made as it slammed into - and hopefully through - the wooden planks.
Harry released his breath and grabbed the next spike.
"Finite. Engorgio."
"Finite. Engorgio."
"Finite. Engorgio."
Three more spikes fell, two hitting the ship, one getting deflected by the mast and splashing into the water, before he heard the first shouts.
The pirates had noticed the attack.
Clenching his teeth, he grabbed the next spike.
"Finite. Engorgio."
Another miss. He cursed under his breath and moved the broom forward, then banked to the side.
"Finite. Engorgio."
This one hit. Was the ship tilting to the side? Three spikes had gone into the right side of the deck.
"Finite. Engorgio."
Something - someone - was moving below. Pirates on brooms.
"Finite. Engorgio."
A spell flew up towards him - no, too far away. No prob…
It exploded in a bright flash of light, and Harry cursed as he shielded his face with his hand. What the…?
He blinked. He was almost blinded. No. He still had some spikes left. But he couldn't see the ship below. But the pirates wouldn't be able to see him, either. So...
Another spell rose from below. He closed his eyes at once. Even so, he could tell when the spell went off - it was so bright.
He glanced down - he was still above the pirate ship.
"Finite. Engorgio."
Another spike hit the ship. Harry blinked again - yes, the ship was tilting to the side; he could tell from the mast.
Six spikes left. That would be…
He took the broom into a dive, barely evading a yellow curse flying past him. They had seen him. A green curse flew overhead as he banked to the side. Other spells followed. He should keep his altitude, but more curses flew towards him - and this broom wasn't as good at climbing as his own.
He needed speed, and that meant more diving. Gritting his teeth, he banked again, then dipped down once more, spiralling downwards like a struck plane.
At mast height, he pulled out of his dive and pulled to the left, passing the ship's stern. He pointed his wand at the ship. "Reducto!"
The spell hit the hull and exploded, but Harry had to bank to the right before he could see if it had done any damage - the pirates were chasing him now.
He pulled up slightly, two red curses passing below him, and then turned left, circling around the ship. Two more Reductor Curses hit the ship, and he thought he saw splinters fly through the air in the light cones from the pirates' spells on the ship and in the air.
Half a dozen pirates were on their brooms now - at least - and three more were on the deck, all sending curses at him whenever they caught sight of him. Or when they thought so; he could see a few curses veering wildly into the night, not even near him. And even when they caught him in a cone of light, he was too fast to get hit.
But that wasn't a good thing - he couldn't lead them away like that; they would abandon the chase too soon.
Gritting his teeth, he turned left again, then shot straight up. One curse almost hit his shield, two more went wide.
He drew a hissing breath, then reached into his pack again while rolling to throw off their aim.
"Finite. Engorgio."
He didn't check if he hit - he kept climbing. If he sunk the ship, that should make the pirates mad enough to…
Another blinding light went off near him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, weaving back and forth randomly while his eyes were useless. How did the pirates avoid blinding their own with that spell?
Panting, he levelled out, still flying as fast as he could in random patterns. Where were the pirates on their brooms?
Another light went off - above him. He cocked his head, grimacing, and glanced up, squinting at the blinding light.
And saw six curses flying straight at him from above.
Harry rolled and veered sharply to the right, dodging the volley of curses, but they kept coming.
And the light hadn't gone out. How was that possible?
More curses flew at him. One clipped his Shield Charm.
He pulled on his broom and turned sharply to the left, then started climbing.
How could they see him and not be blinded by that bright light? He could barely look up without seeing stars!
He weaved, dipped and veered, curses missing him left and right as he climbed higher and higher. Another one hit his shield, shattering it. He was too close to the pirates, then.
Harry dove down again, recasting the Shield Charm, then pulled up as sharply as before. That threw off the pirates' aim again, and he gained more altitude. He just had to get above the pirates and...
It was a searchlight, he realised. A magical one - like the spells they had used the night before, just even more powerful. No wonder the pirates weren't blinded! They could just keep shining that light on him and follow up with curses.
Not even climbing higher than the pirates would help.
He gasped - what was he thinking? This was perfect! He wanted them to chase him, didn't he? And with that, they would be able to.
Baring his teeth, he entered a dive, rolling and weaving as he shot towards the ship.
Not that it mattered now. Harry had to lure the pirates away; that was all that counted.
The water below him grew closer. He ignored the curses flying by and focused on the sea. It was just like a Wronski Feint - if he mistimed his flight, he would crash.
He wouldn't. He was the best Seeker in England in decades.
Almost.
A green curse missed him by what felt by inches. He kept going down.
A brown curse flew by, hitting the water below.
Almost.
A yellow-purple spell went wide.
Now! He pulled on the broom's shaft with all his strength, pushing up. He was still going down, though, and the water was growing even bigger. He wouldn't… he would!
He pulled the broom out of the dive and into level flight a moment before he would have crashed into the sea - his shoes hit the top of a wave, almost throwing him off the broom.
Yes!
He clenched his teeth, elation filling him for a moment, as he flew on - straight towards the pirate ship. This wasn't Quidditch; no one was trying to get a snitch.
But they were trying to get him. And if they were as focused on him as an opposing Seeker…
He pulled the broom up some more, clearing the ship's railing by a foot at most, and shot across its deck in a split second.
When the spells which missed him hit the ship, he was already in the clear. He pulled to the left again, looking back for a moment, and grinned at the sight of the struck ship covered in smoke.
He wanted to cast an Amplifying Charm and yell 'Gotcha!', but the cone of light from that searchlight spell caught him again. He immediately jinked to the right, then climbed up and pulled to the left again as a new barrage of curses flew past him.
More than six, he thought. And with the one casting the searchlight spell… still not enough. They needed a dozen gone, at least. And they were close again. If they got too close, they would have a much easier time hitting him.
Scoffing, he pulled up, over, then corkscrewed down and swung around, making another run at the ship, which had lost its mast by now. He weaved left and right, the waves behind him churning with the impact of more curses, as he lined up the broom.
Then curses flew at him from the ship, coming far closer than the ones sent at him by pirates on brooms. He cursed as he jinked, only to have his shield shatter once more when a Cutting Curse slashed into it.
Harry bent over the shaft, feeling the heat as a bolt of fire flew over his head, and pressed on. He rolled, jinking back and forth, as spells from above, behind and the front crisscrossed around him. Another curse barely missed him - no time to recast his shield now - before he flew across the deck of the ship again, and more spells from the chasing pirates slammed into the hull.
Hah!
He pulled up and to the left again, recasting his Shield Charm, and started to climb up some more to get a better picture of the situation.
He didn't manage. Two cones of light caught him, and far too many curses followed, forcing him into desperate evasive flying.
It was too much - he had to escape now. No, lure them away.
He gritted his teeth and dived once more, levelling out at the last moment, then shot towards the village. A barrage of red curses - Stunners, probably - followed him, with one yellowish curse splashing against the house closest to him - someone still hadn't wised up to his plan. Or they just didn't care about others.
He passed overhead - a few more curses went up from the ground, but not many - and then hugged the earth as he flew towards the jungle.
As soon as he left the village, the curses rained down again - the pirates were still chasing him. Though none of the pursuers had managed to catch up to him, he noted. And this looked like a dozen. Plus two with searchlight spells.
Good. Now all Harry had to do was survive until they were far enough from the island, then lose them while making them think he had gone to ground there before returning to Hermione.
That shouldn't be too…
The jungle in front of him blew up as half a dozen curses struck the treeline, pelting his shield with fragments and splinters. One hit the broom, and he had to struggle to keep from crashing.
"That's my tactic!" he snapped through clenched teeth. "Bloody copycats!"
That meant he had to either fly high enough that the enemies wouldn't be able to hit the trees to cover him with splinters - or low enough they couldn't see him in the jungle.
There was no choice - he had to lure them away. And he couldn't cross the ridge where Hermione was hiding, or she might be caught in a blast. Or by a stray curse.
Scoffing, he climbed to double the jungle canopy's height as a dozen curses flew after him.
"Let's see how good you really are in the air!"