A Pirates Life for Me
By Skye-Chan12
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter that is a right only claimable to Ms Rowling and Pirates of the Caribbean rights are all Disney's, I'm just a wanna-be writer who has to many ideas to write and draw but never enough time.
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I have six locks on my door all in a row. When I go out, I lock every other one. I figure no matter how long somebody stands there picking the locks, they are always locking three.
- Elayne Boosler
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Harry furrowed his brow. He was somewhere between sleep and wake. He knew that his body needed more rest, that he was physically exhausted from the day's activities, but his magic seemed to be telling him that something wasn't right... Squinting in the dim light, Harry took in the sleeping figure before him. It was the blacksmith boy, sitting only a meter from him. His head was thrown back and his mouth was open, little snores being released with every breath.
Harry eased into a sitting position, his dress bunching around his waist and showing off his slip. He gave himself a few seconds for the vertigo to pass before he reached out to stir the black smith boy. The boy flinched away from his touch and turned from him, his lips smacking as he shifted position. Harry could feel the waves of contentment emoting from the boy. He took a moment to battle with his morality, before he gave into his curiosity and slipped into the boys dreaming mind. He allowed himself a few moments to observe the dream before he pulled himself out.
Leaning forward, he thought for a moment of the boy before him and what he was going to tell him. If he even SHOULD tell him anything... His mind returned to the boys dream, and he suddenly had an idea. He couldn't confess to being magic, the truth or a lie could mean his death. But an implication and allowing the boy to believe whatever he assumed may be enough to keep away from a burning. Taking a moment to straighten himself and his skirts, he shook the boy's shoulder until he woke. The boys blurry blue eyes squinted at him for a moment before they filled with recognition. "Mrs Sparrow, I-" He started, Harry held up a hand to stop him.
"You've meet someone like me before, haven't you?" He asked, knowing that the boys thoughts would still be on his dream and the childhood memory that it must have sprung from.
Will hesitated for a moment, before nodding.
"You are lucky to be alive." Harry continued. "But, there is something about you. I can't quite say what it is... A connection to the sea. He probably sensed it." Harry heard the boy suck in a quick breath. "I would have thought that you would have become a sailor with that kind of past, not a blacksmith."
"I..." Will didn't quite know what to say, "What are you?"
"What do you think?" Harry asked carefully.
"I would dare not chance a guess." He breathed.
"I think we both know, that as you cannot dare a guess, I cannot dare not confess. You have now seen something unbelievable, and I will not say what caused it or that I did it. An admittance of such could sign my death warrant." Harry explained carefully. "Do you understand?"
The boy nodded, his eyes downcast, "Does the pirate know?"
Harry hesitated, "Jack... Jack and I are bound by mutual danger. If captured and found as a pirate, he will be hanged. If captured and found as a... So would I." The boy looked at him, his clear eyes burned with a curiosity and wonder that Harry knew all too well.
"He really did save the girl, you know..." He gave Harry an almost sour look, "I get the feeling that he might not do the right thing all the time, but he does when it really matters."
"Is that what makes a man good?" the blacksmith asked.
"Well..." Harry paused and thought for a moment, before offering a small smirk "Who really wants a good man all the time?"
"Is that your opinion, or the that of all women?" The boy asked, smiling back.
"Oh, I don't think I'm the best person to ask on the opinions of women." Harry laughed and Will smiled as though he knew what he meant. Hopefully the gender thing wont be a problem later, Harry prayed. "May I inquire as to you're name, blacksmith boy?"
Standing quickly, he gave a formal bow, "William Turner, at your service Mrs. Sparrow."
"I wish we had met under better circumstances, Mr Turner." Harry eased up and gave a small curtsy, "Harriet Sparrow, but please call me Harry."
"So long as you call me Will." The boy grinned happily, taking her hand and pressing a genteel kiss to its back.
"Very well, Will." Harry discreetly wiped his hand on his skirt. Dear lord, hand kissing? It was then, that Harry started to feel whatever had woken him, intensify. Looking about the room Harry asked, "Do you feel that?"
"Feel what?" Will asked, looking about with him.
Leaning forward, Harry started to weave about the room, trying to find where the feeling was coming from like a cat trying to sniff out catnip. Walking into the forge, Harry got a huge tingle from the window. Something was wrong... Very wrong... Walking to the open window, He took in the moon and shifting clouds that drifted sleepily across the black sky. The moon was full and seemed to glow brighter as he peered into the night.
Harry vaguely remembered Luna telling him about the moon. How her father had interviewed people who had been called by it and that 'she' had taught them secret magics or prophecy. He knew that magic had a deep connection to the moon, potions ingredients and magical creatures had obvious connections to its waxing and waning. As the moon filled his gaze, for a moment, he wondered if he could gaze into her mind. Shaking his head, he turned to look at the curious blacksmith. He had followed Harry into the room, but stayed back, not wanting to disturb what ever what happening.
He looked back out the window, taking in the town, the fort on the hill, and the docks below. Harry watched as tendrils of fog began to rise from the sea and flood the streets. The fog spread, sliding through open doors and propped windows, filling his nostrils with a retching scent of death.
"Something is happening." Harry muttered, his hand covering his nose and mouth in an attempt to block the smell. He felt a fear rise up in him, "Something really really bad." He fell from the window, rushing past Will to the rack of weapons on the wall.
Eyes widening at Harry's path, Will scampered forward to stand between Harry and the finely sharpened blades, "Wait! Why do you need weapons."
"I don't know," Harry reached under the boys blocking arms to seize a blade, only to have Will's hand close around the hilt to stop him, "But everything in me is screaming that I need to arm myself and get ready."
Will hesitated. His eyes going from the blade, to Harry's crazed look. "I need you to trust me." Harry pleaded.
"Even though you do not trust me?" Will snapped in response.
"You have yet to earn my trust." Harry snarled back, his hand tightening around the blade causing it to cut into his skin. "I've been hurt by too many people that I've trusted blindly."
"Well then, I say the same to you." Will answered smartly.
"I trust that you know, that if I really meant you harm, you would be a trout at this moment and I would be armed." Harry gave a vague gesture to the prone sleeping sloth a few meters from them.
Will gave a quick glance to his master-turned-sloth and swallowed thickly, "Do you know how to use one of these?"
"Lets just say that my training with a sword began when I was a child, when I used it to kill a serpent the size of fifty men." Harry smirked, "Remember, that though I look to be a lady, I am more than I appear."
Will took a breath and released the blade, allowing Harry to seize it.
"Something's coming." Harry stated shortly, "Either arm yourself or find someplace safe to wait it out, pretty boy."
The boy wrinkled his nose at the end comment but immediately began busying himself by arming to the teeth.
Taking a calm breath and letting it out slowly to relax his frazzled nerves, Harry stretched out his 'awareness'. The scent in the air seemed to get stronger the farther he reached and when he hit something solid he nearly recoiled from the window in horror. There was a dark looming shape sliding though the waters. A flash of light followed by a crashing boom gave sight to what, until now, he had only felt.
"And here they come." Harry muttered darkly, William scrambling to his side, allowing him to catch sight of what Harry had just seen; several rowboats landing on shore and their passengers spreading over the town like ants from a hill.
Screams and more cannon fire filled the air and Harry drew in his breath and fingered his bit of holly. With the first sign of fleeing civilians Harry nodded to Will, who was waiting anxiously by the door, and with a burst of energy, threw open the door and followed Harry into the fray.
The stench of death and decay was nearly unbearable; Harry coughed weakly as he slashed one of the 'creature's' throats and watched as it fell boneless to the ground as if dead. Out of the corner of his eye, however, Harry watched as it rose as if only knocked out for a brief moment, before it rushed forward once more.
'These were living, moving, cadavers!' Harry realized as he mowed down yet another of the man-like things, their bodies gave off an aura much like that of an inferi however their darkness seemed to come from their own souls, not from a 'Dark Lord' controlling them.
Harry fought tooth and nail as he battered against the unbeatable foe, attempting to save as many lives as he could. 'Damn it!' Harry grumbled as he twisted to avoid a blow and struck wildly out with his blade, 'where are all of those damn soldiers when you really need them!'
Glancing around, Harry realized that he had lost track of the blacksmith in the chaos. Swiftly following the boy's trail, he found him just as the whelp was about to be blown up by a pirate-made grenade.
With a quick snap of his fingers, Harry cast the fuse out. He just managed to see that his efforts were successful in defusing the spark before taking on yet another one of the creatures.
A hollow sounding 'whack' brought his attentions from his freshly downed combatants to a gleeful pirate hauling away a chest with his shipmate, waving a candlestick about in a way that would have made Professor Plum proud. His eyes then landed on the path of destruction the pirate had left behind which included the now unconscious Will-the-blacksmith.
Damn, Harry muttered under his breath. Unable to leave him here in the open so vulnerable, Harry quickly gathered the boy into his arms and with a pop, returned him to his bed, before returning to the battle.
The zombies (for lack of a better word) were now fleeing back to their ship, booty in hand. Harry managed to fend off a few of the in-flight men from doing any further damage before they were all out of sight. Taking a breath, He released the blade and watched it tumble to the ground. It was covered in blood, along with his skirts.
There was a body not far from him, of an older man, Harry hurried over to check for a pulse and found none. He took another slow breath, there were other people in the town that he could help, though not as he looked now. Wiping his hands on his dress, he willing his bodies stamina to hold on for a little while longer, before he activated his previous notice-me-not charm. Then, he gently let his magic slide over the mans clothing to make a copy, and then let it overlay his dress. Channeling his magic he used the overlay as a guide to transfigure his shift into a long shirt, his under-petticoat into breaches, his stays into a waistcoat and his gown into a jacket. With any luck, the transfiguration would last a few hours, and give him enough time to do some good before trying to find Jack.
He strengthened the notice-me-not charm and headed to the main part of town in search of any injured. He knelt beside several bodies outside the ally, all dead. It wasn't long before survivors started to peek fretfully from behind windows and doorways.
Leaning against a house, Harry spotted a woman. Her hand was was clutched to her face, blood running in rivulets down her arm and from between her fingers. She was pressed tightly against the wall, as if she were attempting to blend in to the brickwork.
Stepping to her side he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, ignoring the flinch, and began to talk soothingly to her. "It's alright now, the raid is over, they're all gone now..."
The woman's shoulders started to shake and she began sobbing, one of her hands cautiously lowering from her face revealing lots of blood and the beginning of a deep cut gauged through her face from her temple to her chin. Harry could could see teeth where the wound had cut through her cheek wall and into her mouth. "Let me see the rest of your face, don't worry, everything is going to be fine, let me see..."
Her sobbing body could hardly protest to Harry's gentle request. With the full extent of the wound revealed, Harry started to work. Quickly sending a mild sedative and pain reliever spell her way, Harry carefully began accelerating the healing on the wound.
Sliding his hands over her face he started at her temple, pressing the two sides together to lessen the scaring as it healed. Harry gritted his teeth as a memory of a similar wounds caused by a cutting, severing, and slashing hexes. The wound sealed, creating an inflamed red scar. Slashing hexes had been a favorite of Nott's and the damage that the man had left behind had always left Harry feeling sick to his stomach. 'At least Nott was good for one thing.' Harry thought morbidly has he carefully repaired the blood vessels on the woman's face. 'Healing such wounds shouldn't be a problem with the preparation the Death Eater had provided.'
"That's much better," Harry cooed as he took both of the woman's bloodied hands and wiped them clean. Her physical wounds where lessened and Harry sent a prayer that she recover from the mental trauma. "Go on home now and try to find your family."
The woman nodded with half lidded eyes from the numbing charms. The look caused another flash that made Harry shiver and remind himself that she was only tired, not under imperious. He pulled her to her feet and she set off in a bit of a daze down the street filled with wandering people in shock and wounded.
With a sigh, Harry knew he would have a busy night.
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After Harry's notice-me-not charm faded, a line had started to form of the sick and wounded. He had almost had a heart attack when the first person had walked up to him and ask for help. He had seen him out of the corner of his eye as he healed a man's lungs from having permanent smoke damage, and had almost made a run for it when the man walked up to him.
The man, seeing Harry's panic, had reached out to grab Harry, his hand covered in blood from a massively bleeding gunshot wound. Harry's eyes widened at the sight of blood dripping from his outstretched hand and, instead or running, had gotten the man into a prone position and started surgically removing the bullet. As the man babbled thanks and blessings as Harry pulled the bullet from his numbed flesh, leaving nothing but a puckered scar. As Harry attempted to help him stand, only to have him prostrate himself before Harry, crying out that he was blessed by God.
This had caught the attention of more then a few people and Harry had almost been mauled by wounded. The man, Joseph pulled Harry back and started triaging the wounded, creating a line of injured for Harry to care for. With every healed wound, Joseph would praise the lord and pray with the newly recovered. There were no whispers of magic or even comments on his healing beyond biblical praises. Harry remained tense, but decided if they could keep an open mind, then so could he (though he was fully prepared to run the second someone started ask questions).
Resetting a mans broken leg and pressing the bone to mend, Harry looked down the line and saw that he only had ten or so patients remaining. Nodding to the man that he was done, he took his thanks and smiled pleasantly before getting ready to assess the next in line. Joseph, who was standing a few paces away, came forward to help the man cautiously walk forward.
Unfortunately, word of Harry's presence had traveled as far as the fort, and superiors had ordered for the 'doctor' in the town to be immediately brought to heal them and their men.
A posse of solders appeared as Harry finished with a baby girl and her mother, armed to the teeth and looking, besides tired and dusty, none too worse for wear. Harry tried his best not to show his panic as he motioned the next in line forward.
He could feel his heart pounding frantically in his chest. He attempted to examine his new patient's wound as a muggle doctor would, while simultaneously scanning him for further injuries. He knew that these men were probably educated enough to see his magic for what it was. For some reason (coughJackcough) Harry doubted that they would show him the same trust and loyalty that these villagers had and he would likely be clapped in irons and set his burning day. As terrified as he was, he was also pissed that this was the first he had seen of the men in red. Where the hell where they during the fighting? Where where they in the aftermath?!
The troop clanked to a stop and an officer stepped forward to address the 'doctor' "Sir, your skills are needed up at the fort."
"My skills are also needed here." Harry didn't even look up as he carefully placed his hand over his next patient's wound. The man appeared to be quite old, his hair white and his face covered in wrinkles, but Harry's initial scan's showed him to be only 35. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on hiding the severity of the wound from the soldiers.
Tricky things, bullet wounds, today being his first day attempting to heal such wounds, it had taken a little bit of trial and error before he had found a sufficient method to remove the many fragments of bullet without doing any further damage to the flesh.
"Sir, there are good men up at the fort dieing!" The soldier seemed shocked at Harry's attitude, this man was educated, why would he waste his knowledge on these urchins?!
"There are good 'people' who were left at the mercy of those pirates, while you were all sitting nice and protected up in your fort with your big cannons and guns." Harry answered. Pulling the once-injured man to his feet and calling Joseph over. Joseph looked as somber as he was, following Harry's example of blocking the (former) wound from the soldiers sight while leading him away from the commotion. "The number of women and children alone, which I have healed this morning must far out number the number of men that might possibly be wounded up in your fort. You have your own doctors, I'm sure. These people have no one. Are their lives worth less then the few injured that you have up at your fort?"
The man stilled in shock at the nerve of this man to deny the will of his superiors. "Sir." He swallowed harshly, "If you do not come with us willingly we will to take you with us by force."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. He took a quick breath and set about healing a gash across a young boy's chest. The boy looked to be no older then nine, 'much too young to have had this kind of wound' he thought woefully. "We all must do what we feel is right." He spared a quick glance at the aghast officer. "My place is here. Do what you must."
It was at this point that the man seemed to snap out of the conversation and take notice of his surroundings. His men behind him were beginning to shuffle nervously as a mass of people seemed to surround the entire street, plugging up the roads and alleyways.
"I would appreciate it if you would leave now and tell you superiors that if they are in such desperate need of help, then they can come down here and wait their turn, from the end of the line."
The soldier gulped loudly and nodded his head anxiously before turning and hurrying down the street, the bodies parting allowing him and his men to pass before closing behind them.
"Well, that was fun." Harry muttered smiling to his child patient as he finished with his mending leaving in the cut's place smooth skin, without even a hint of a scar. "Off you go then, go on back to your parents."
The boy nodded and began to wander off and Harry started on the next person in line, he only had a few people here left to heal and after this he would wander around and try to help the locals fix up the town before returning to the blacksmith shop to check up on Will and pick up his and Jack's effects.
'Then he would free Jack'. Harry thought determinedly, his eyes glaring at the fort that loomed over the port, 'and they would definitely be having a talk.'
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End Chapter Seven
AN: ANSWERS!
A lot of answers have been asked concerning the story and I thought I would answer the frequently asked ones here.
Concerning Harry's Power
I have chosen to remain a bit mysterious about all of Harry's powers. I'm trying to not make him seem all powerful and to let it be known that he does have limits and he does prefer to solve things the muggle way when possible.
Concerning Harry's looks
I have also chosen to not to go in depth on the clothes that Harry's wearing and how Harry looks. We all have our own picture of him and I don't want to describe Harry in any way that would contradict how someone else imagines him. I make it sound that he can be passed off as a girl and thus imply that he is rather 'pretty' but how pretty one has to be to be passed off as a girl, I leave up to you, the readers.