Treasure
Chapter 1: Sleeping in Distant Memories
AN:2.6.13: Moving this into the Trust Vault. There will be no continuation of the story.
AN: First stab at a POTC/HP cross over. I actually like these...as weird as it seems. Never thought pirates and wizards would work before I read 'A Different Type of War' by MaskedNightmare, it's Harry/Norrington. Although I'm not big on Voldemort being in it. He just seemed to ruin the fun. But it was really good. Highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't read it yet. Also 'A Pirates Life for Me' by Skye-Chan 12 is really good, it's Harry/Jack. And I'm dying for it to be updated.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or POTC. They belong to JK Rowling and Disney, respectively.
Warning: m/m pairing, language...all the fun stuff.
It was a dark, brooding kind of night off the coast of one of the southern Andros Islands. The kinds that make you want to sit in the dark, drink hard liquor and think about nothing. Because if you think too much, you'll lose your mind. Luckily, the winds weren't too bad, and the weather wasn't stormy. But he could hear it. The crashing sound of waves on cliff rock that made him a little antsy. They'd sailed around the breadth of the island and seen nothing but cliff face. So it was scale, or nothing. But he couldn't leave. Not now when he was so close. The ultimate treasure to be found and taken. He looked back down at the old scripture.
There was a sorcerer who's power
could raze the Earth and desiccate water.
After defeating his ancient contestant,
he cast a wake-less enchantment.
Sentencing himself to an age-less slumber
on an island with no refer.
Until the day his lips be kissed,
his slumber forever shall persist.
And the one who wakes his sleeping ire,
will hold the power of the world entire.
For bound to them, the wizard be,
until three words set him free.
To wake this sleeping wizard, with a single kiss. It was easier than breathing for Captain Jack Sparrow. And he was almost there. One night in stormy weather, a long climb up the cliff, finding said sleeping wizard, and then he would be the most fearsome pirate in the Caribbean. Because who wouldn't want to control the power of a sorcerer? Jack glanced outside his quarters and sighed, leaning back in his chair with his boots on his desk. He smirked to himself and set his hat over his face. He wasn't bothered with kissing another man. He'd had to do it before, tomorrow wouldn't be any different.
The cliffs were steep, and practically glass smooth. They were constantly pounded by the sea water, and the churning, choppy waves were not helping Jack scale the cliffs. Not one bit. He grit his teeth and pushed onward. Just a few more pulls on the rope and he'd be on favorable footing. Above him he could see pieces of the cliff that hadn't been sanded smooth by the waves and winds. There were crevices and ledges and what looked like a large crawlspace. Jack pulled himself up to the good rock-face, setting his feet into the spaces he could reach, and finding holds with his hands.
He could here Gibbs in the long boat below him, cursing loudly at the waves that jumbled him around. Jack hauled himself up, heading for that large crawlspace that now seemed to be a cave of some kind. After a few minutes he climbed inside, falling face first over the three inch ledge and into a dimly lit room. It was shadowed deeply, lit only by the meager amount of sun that managed to slip through the clouds and in through the window, now that he looked at it. He had landed in a smoothly carved out room with no other entrance or exit. There was a simple set of chairs sitting at a table, several bookcases with thousands of books, a set of glass bottles and other knick-knacks. But, the most confusing thing, was the lack of dust. All hidden treasure collected dust. Jack's eyes roamed around the room again and locked with the small figure on a very common-place bed. Something he found unusual for a sorcerer. He walked over to the edge of the bed and looked down at the sleeping figure.
Jack was stunned by the figure he beheld. Pale skin that glowed in the darkness, never before kissed by the ocean's sweet sun. Hair like deep ink wells that flowed like yards of silk across the pillows. High cheekbones, sharp chin, lips that put the deepest red rose to shame, and a nose that tilted up at the tip like the old time fey. Lean limbs clad in deep maroon cotton under a black vest, trousers the shade of moonless night. The man, Jack barely managed to remember from the scripture, was stunning. And he managed to shake himself from his awe to remember what he had to do. Kissing this creature will be one of the pleasantries in life, Jack figured with a smirk. He leaned over, supporting himself with his arms, and placed a gentle kiss on the wizard's lips. Then, Jack was startled by the emerald gems that shot open to meet him.
Harry's eyes flew open at the faint press of lips against his own. His magic ached for touch, and he grimly remembered the downside of the spell he'd cast, his eyes fluttering closed again
.
Eternal sleep until you wake,
and then the waker's touch to take.
Magic fueled by hearts desire,
only then, grow, the power's fire.
He barely registered his stiff arms wrapping around his waker's neck, twisting to the side and pulling them along until he was dominating the kiss. The contact built his core. Fixing bridges he'd torn down to work the spell, storing power to use. He pulled away and sighed, laying on his waker's chest, absorbing the energy he needed. The heart that poured from the contact felt good on his aching muscles. Years of sleep, while good to rest his mind, had not favored his body. He felt soar and stiff and his bones wanted to crack. Reluctantly he sat up, stretching like a cat and finally took a good look at his waker.
The man was broad, and well muscled. A worker, that was good. His deep brown eyed, lined with a thick layer of kohl, were watching Harry with a mix of amusement and shock. His forehead was covered by a scarlet bandana, his matted dark brown hair spilling from under it, several strands close to his face were braided and beaded. His shirt was creamy and left open to show his bare chest. He wore a navy blue long vest and a thick belt with an odd assortment of cloth and gadgets that Harry had never seen before. All of this over brown trousers and a sturdy set of leather boots. But, what intrigued Harry most, was the charming mustache and goatee. And Harry couldn't help but give a faint smile and tug on one of the braids childishly. He was never to know this, but Jack thought it endearing.
"Well, then," The man beside him said, sitting up. "That was interesting," Harry gazed at the man sideways and raised an eyebrow. "Now that the waking's been done, introductions are in order! I," The man gave a flourish and a short bow, "Am Captain Jack Sparrow. And you are?"
"Harry Potter," Harry gave a polite nod and got off the bed and wandered over to his table, summoning up a plate of toast and a glass of sherry. All the while, wondering what possessed the man to seek him out, kiss him and wake him up. "I didn't think anyone would be as insane as me and climb the cliff. It's the only way in, you know. So, Captain Jack Sparrow, what is it you wish of me?" Harry turned on Jack.
"Don't be upset, love," Jack climbed off the bed and strode to Harry's side.
"No one finds me for no reason," Harry lifted an intimidating eyebrow and took a nibble of his toast.
"Well, there is a reason," Jack shrugged. He paused and looked around for a moment, before finding what he was searching for and picking it up. The little triangle shaped leather hat was...odd, in Harry's opinion, but fit Jack to a T.
"And?" Harry prodded.
"I want immortality,"Jack shrugged. Harry practically choked on his sherry before eying the man like he was crazy and then cracking a very unfriendly smirk.
"Immortality is impossible for me to give," Harry said simply, watching the man visibly deflate. "But, now that you've woken me, you won't die until I do. Which will take several hundred years, at least." Jack seemed to bounce back like a stubborn child.
"Excellent!" Harry watched as the man bent over the edge of the window and called down to someone. The words, lost to him. Harry gave a weary sigh and flicked his hands over his books and potions supplies, they shrunk and worked their way into his trunk. With a good look at his home for the last...however many years it had been, he shrunk his trunk and stuck it in his vest pocket. Turning back to Jack he gave the man a small smile.
"All ready to go," Jack stared at him and then gave a dashing, toothy grin.
"Alright, love," Harry joined the man by the window and looked out at the scene. He assumed Jack's ship was the large black shape anchored in the rough water below them, and the man he'd been calling down to was the one in the dingy attached to the rope that led up the cliff wall.
"You," Harry drawled, turning to Jack, "Are insane." Harry himself had used his own magic to get himself up that cliff, and no amount of pressure was ever going to get him to climb it. Ever. Jack's grin just widened.
"So, how do we go about getting down?" Harry questioned.
"Why, we climb, of course,"
"Climb down?" Harry squeaked and looked down to the tiny dot that was the man in the dingy. Jack laughed. It was a nice laugh, deep and throaty. Full of vitality and charm.
"No way in hell's seventh circle am I climbing," Harry shook his head.
"Alright, I'll carry you then," Jack shrugged.
"Can't we use magic?" Jack paused, confusion rippling across his face before he grinned again.
"I suppose you could,"
"Excellent, I'll need more energy then," Harry looked at Jack expectantly.
"How do you get that?"
"Oh, god. Didn't you read the spell?" Harry gaped at Jack.
"Sorry, love, all I got was a bit o' wording like," Jack produced the scrap of paper he'd procured and handed it to the wizard.
"Shite!" Harry grumbled, stuffing the paper back into Jack's pocket after reading the passage.
"You could just explain it,"
"Yes, but this makes things...difficult," Harry glowered.
"How so?"
"Well, for one, you aren't attracted to men." Jack raised an eyebrow. "The spell I used. When I was woken by you, my magic now responds to your touch. Yours alone. No one else can refuel my magical core. I don't even know if it will refuel naturally, with sleep, anymore. That's what your passage means when it says 'The one who wakes his sleeping ire, will hold the power of the world entire,'. Physical contact with you is the only way I can fuel my magic. So to get us out of here with magic I need you to touch me for awhile."
"Ah," Jack nodded, understanding crossing his features. "Come here," Jack beckoned, as if to a timid, stray. Harry approached, wondering what Jack would do. All that he required was a hand to hold for several minutes. Though certain contacts did restore more of his power than others. Holding hands was the slowest, basic form. And Harry really didn't want to know what the fastest way was. Jack grasped his hand and tugged him into a tight embrace. Harry felt his blood rush and heat soak into his body. He sighed and closed his eyes. The rush of magic was like the lull of Mozart, beauty and peace. Safety and deliciously sweet. And then Jack kissed him.
Nothing compared to the rush of energy that accompanied that kiss. It was the humming of bees and the lull of a swelled spring river. The feel of wind through grass and the sound of rock fall. It was the crash of waves and the frantic scrambling of pathless ants. It was all this and it was none of it. And it left Harry moaning and longing. Jack pulled away to breath and Harry panted for air, feeling his cheeks blush. But, he felt the hum of his core as it swirled with a third of it's full capacity. He smiled and turned to the wall. He climbed onto the window sill and pulled. The ocean swelled and built, until it was level with the window, and a very confused man in a long boat was staring at him.
The man crossed himself as Harry stepped out onto the water, beckoning for Jack to hold his hand and follow. The man's well worked hands encased his own, but he tried to ignore the pleasant tingle that accompanied the touch. Jack was thoroughly enjoying walking on water, and Harry found himself enjoying showing off his talent to the man. It felt...right, somehow. Jack and Harry climbed into the long boat with the man and Harry set about moving the boat back towards the large black ship.
"That's my lovely girl," Jack sighed, "The Black Pearl,"
Harry thought it a fitting name. He pushed them towards the anchored ship and let them drift the last few feet towards the boat. Before the ladder was tossed down Jack introduced Harry to Mr. Gibbs, the superstitious man from the boat. Harry just smiled at him and offered a friendly hand.
After being introduced to the men that crewed the ship Harry was shown to Jack's quarters and allowed a bit of peace as Jack went about with his work. The captain's quarters were awful. Empty bottles of liquor lay everywhere, piles of clothing strewn out amidst the chaos of papers and maps, books were shoved into corners and spilling off the table. Harry let out a frustrated sigh and got about his work. Halfway through he left the room to find Jack, who was standing at the wheel, correcting their course.
"I need a bit of a recharge," Harry said sheepishly, holding out his hand. Jack smiled at him and pulled him close. Kissing him for the third time that day. Jack ended the kiss, but left his arm wrapped around Harry's waist. Harry just avoided looking at him and kept his gaze towards the sea.
"You know, I don't know anything about you," Harry finally spoke up.
"All in good time, love," Jack sent him a wicked smirk. "That about do it?"
"Yes, thank you," Harry pulled away and trotted back down the steps and into the captain's quarters to finish his work. Several cleaning spells later and the cabin looked almost new. He was rather proud of his work. With a grin he pulled out his trunk and tapped it with his fingers. It grew to it's original size and then morphed into a fine looking mahogany dresser full of miniature items. He secured the piece to the floor in the corner and did the same to the rest of the furniture in the room. He really didn't want anything to fall on him in the middle of a storm.
Harry glanced around at his handy work, smiling to himself. The desk was tidy, with maps and papers filed nicely or hung on the walls. All of Jack's dirty clothes were in a basket that he would wash tomorrow. The empty bottles were shrunk and placed in one of Harry's dresser drawers. And the full bottles of rum were laying nicely in a liquor cabinet he'd fixed to the wall near Jack's bed. He rather doubted the man would have climbed his cliff if he hadn't been half drunk. But, he'd never know for sure.
Jack handed over possession of the wheel to Gibbs for the evening and descended the stairs with slightly aching arms. He hadn't had a good climb like that for a few months at least. But, He thought to himself, it was definitely worth the work. Jack thought back to Harry's sauntering trot after he'd asked to be recharged. It was cruel fate that made Jack's curiosity rise to another of his gender. But, only cruel to the woman he had courted in the past. As he opened his door to get some sleep he saw why Harry had needed the recharge. His cabin was nothing like the mess he'd left it in this morning. And he was slightly embarrassed that Harry had had to clean it up while he'd never put so much effort into it. Entering the cabin he saw the wizard sitting on his bed, reading a thick tome that Jack guessed held knowledge of the sorcerer's magic. Jack crossed the room, noticed that the man was completely engrossed in his reading, and smirked to himself. He came up behind the wizard and leaned in close to the man's ear.
"Good evening Harry," He purred into the shell of Harry's ear. Harry jumped, whirling on Jack and whacking him in the side of the head with his book.
"Do not sneak up on me," Harry hissed, lightning flashing in his eyes before he dropped the book with a sigh and grabbed Jack's aching head. "I could end up really hurting you," Jack felt soft warmth flow through his skull as the aching subsided rapidly. Jack threw him an enchanting smile.
"Can't hurt me much, love," He pulled the other man's hands from his skull.
"Oh, trust me, I can do much more than whack you with a book," Harry grimaced, looking away.
"I don't doubt it," Jack shrugged, "But, let's just get some sleep." Harry's face reddened considerably, and Jack was not surprised to find he liked it there.
"Would it be alright for me to – to sleep in your arms?" Harry had to take a deep breath in between. "I know it's sudden, but I think if I start out with a full core I'll function better tomorrow. The spell says my magic will build up over time so I won't need to constantly touch you all the time. It's just a temporary thing,"
"No worries, love," Jack kicked off his shoes, pulling off his belt and effects and tossing his hat onto his desk. He crawled onto the bed and lay down, opening his arms for Harry to lay inside them. He wrapped his arms around the intriguing sorcerer and smiled as his face buried slightly into smooth black hair.
"Are you going to tell me a bit about yourself now?" Harry pondered, looking up at Jack.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything," Jack laughed at Harry's answer but supplied some information. Harry was a bit annoyed to learn that he now worked with pirates, but was placated when Jack told him that they didn't pillage, plunder and rape, like most others. He was more interested in exploration and treasure.
"So you came after me?"
"Of course, you are the most incredible treasure I've encountered yet." Harry snorted a laugh and then listened to Jack talk about William Turner and Elizabeth Swann. He was slightly impressed by the sheer amount of idiocy that stemmed from the couples communication problem, but something seemed to bother him, though Jack didn't know what. In the end he settled for hugging the man tighter to him and asking a few questions of his own. It turned out that Harry was in his late teens, almost twenty, add to that the years he'd been sleeping, and he guessed he was over two hundred. Jack talked until Harry's eyes began to droop, and he let the boy drift to sleep in his arms.
While Jack watched the boy dream his brain got a crazy, improbable but completely possible idea. And so, he started to plot.