Chapter Seven – Full Moon

"I want to ask something," James said, sitting down to dinner that night, "but I'm afraid you'll mark it off-limits."

Lily draped her napkin over her lap. "If you want to waste a question, I won't stop you."

"It's just that it's the obvious question. And maybe it's a waste, but I've got all the time in the world, I suppose." He picked up the bottle of wine. "How did you become a thief of thieves?"

"Well deduced, Captain Potter." She bent over to pet Algernon's head while James poured. "I don't want to talk about that, especially if you won't tell me how you became a pirate."

"You were born into piracy, but by your own estimation you're not a pirate."

"You are paying attention, aren't you?" She sat upright again and Algernon meowed in annoyance. "I'd say I'm impressed but that's a lie."

"There's got to be some level of detail you can give me about being born into piracy. Anything at all. You can't leave me with that one fascinating fact and move on."

"Not that I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm afraid you'll have to ask the right question if you want to know anything more."

"Very well." He flashed her a smile. "What did you mean by a pirate by birth? I don't think that's part of how you became a thief of pirates, is it?"

"I could argue it is."

"You can argue whatever you want, but what's your incentive to do so?"

She sighed. If he really intended to pursue the line of inquiry, it would be in her interest to give him what he wanted. And maybe it would convince him she was who she said she was. It just burned to be forced to discuss things she'd prefer not to.

"It's as simple as it sounds," she said. "My mother was a pirate."

"Mother. Interesting." He ignored Algernon pawing at his shoe, begging for a scrap of fish. "I did assume father – what about him?"

Willingly admitting to her mother's profession would have been easier than this. But telling him about her father struck deep, a revelation she hadn't told anyone since leaving home.

It had made sense to avoid the issue among pirates. Women of the nobility were kidnapping targets, and she hadn't been about to hand herself up on a silver platter for ransom.

But James wouldn't do that. At least, she was fairly confident he wouldn't. He was too obsessed with finding his treasure – whatever was buried there had to be worth more than the entire Evans fortune, if he was pursuing it with such doggedness.

And he'd asked, and she was obligated by her own integrity to tell the truth within the game.

Technically, anyway.

"He was a good man," she said. "Did different sorts of business."

"Who's offering half-answers now?"

"It's a complete answer – your question was very vague. How is a poor, uneducated thief like myself supposed to know how to interpret your meaning?"

His mouth curved back in a half-grin. "Oh, yes, you certainly need coddling. Very well, you innocent young babe, ask your questions. Don't think I'm dropping this."

"I'd never presume to know your intentions," she said airily. "But my first question: was anyone on this ship a pirate before they joined your crew?"

He shook his head.

"And you personally asked them all to join you?"

He nodded.

She raised her cup and arched an eyebrow at him. "Reduced to nonverbal communication?"

But he seemed to barely process what she said, instead tapping the edge of his plate with his knife. "What was your father's profession?"

There was nothing for it. It would come out sooner or later.

"Earl," she sighed. "Now, what do you—"

"No," James said, eyes going wide.

"Yes. And?"

"You're a noble pirate!"

"I am not a pirate."

"But you're the daughter of an earl! And a pirate! You must admit, that's dead unusual."

"Your world experience astounds me."

"Look, I don't—I don't care, you know. Sirius is noble in the wizarding world, much as he hates it."

Sirius might have been the rebellious heir, but Lily's running away had been simultaneously a rebellion and a fulfillment.

Not that she had any intention of discussing that with James.

"My turn, I believe," she said, with enough confidence that he went along with it, his mind apparently still mulling over her noble blood.

"I eagerly await your question."

"Well," she drawled, "men like you only want one thing."

"I've heard that, yes."

"Given that you're after treasure—"

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" he asked, his eyes flicking down.

"Mm, we can if you like."

"I'll think on it. What was your question?"

She cocked her head and considered him. "Why did everyone come running when you assembled this crew of misfit pirates?"

"Misfit pirates. I like that." He smiled to himself, just a little. "They came because we're friends."

"But why would they just join up with you, leave everything behind? They don't seem particularly greedy."

"Intertwined with my piracy, I'm afraid." He offered her a consoling smile, and it actually reached his eyes.

"Nothing you can give me? Nothing at all?"

"I've loads of innuendo, if you like. Which you haven't really been into so far, but that doesn't mean I don't have plenty available."

"More than treasure?"

He had so many smiles, each one a distinct, clear entity. This one came easily, a crooked, sharp line. "You think I spent six years at boarding school without picking up a hundred words for treasure?"

"No, but as someone who's spent the last two years on pirate ships, I'm certain I've got at least two hundred."

"I love a woman with a good vocabulary."

"I'd classify my vocabulary as better than good, thank you. While you were faffing about at Hogwarts, some of us were devouring every book in our admittedly outstanding library. I like to think of my vocabulary as stellar. Or unparalleled. Or superlative."

"Slow down, Lily, we're not even to dessert yet. You've got to let a man breathe before drown him with your grasp of the English language."

"What, should I make you work for it?"

"There is that saying about buying the cow when you can have the milk."

"You're not exactly monogamous with your metaphors, are you?"

"Nah," he said, leaning his chair back on two legs, wine held in one hand. "I'm a veritable metaphor harlot."

Algernon had come back over to Lily, and he looked up at her. He didn't beg for fish thing time, instead staring at her knowingly.

Lily pretended she didn't see and sipped her wine, pretending that James looked stupid leaning back that way and not at all dashing with that faint shadow of stubble on his face.

Thankfully, Algernon couldn't say anything.

Still. She dropped him a piece of fish to buy his silence.

James was…something else. He'd been so utterly reasonable since she'd come on board, asking without demanding, persuading rather than insisting. Mostly, anyway. It almost made her feel guilty for trying to solve his treasure map.

Almost.

Because solving wasn't stealing. It was mostly fun, something to keep her mind busy. She'd spent enough time on ships to have seen people go dumb or mad with boredom, and she wouldn't be one of them.

Although conversing with James could be considered a mental exercise in and of itself.

All the same, she sat poring over the map that night while James lounged in the crow's nest.

After examining the map several times, the Latin words were honestly more baffling than the shapes. Lily could see from Peter's work that they didn't string together into any sensible order, and there were no obvious anagrams to be made. She bent over, eyebrows drawing together.

There had to be some sort of pattern or clue. The only thing she'd noticed, the starred cross, hadn't helped her yet.

Based on the new notes Lily found, Peter had tried his hand at translating again. A stormy sea comes after a sad wind. It can be hard not to follow fate.

Peter seemed to be fixated on some of the longer Latin strings, however poor a job he was doing at it. Lily would let him work on that for now, and searched for some of the other clues on the map instead.

One of the Latin words was navigatio. Navigate. As in the ship had to navigate somewhere….

She let her eyes trace over the letters again and again. Why would the mapmaker tell them what they already knew? Obviously they had to navigate. That was what maps were for….

She frowned.

The writer was normally very tidy but he'd missed a spot of ink under the o.

Her eyes slid west onto aecor. He'd dropped another spot of ink under the e there, but nowhere else near the word. Just one tiny, insignificant dot.

Lily quickly scoured the rest of the map and found five more specks of ink, each dot clearly under one letter of a Latin word.

She grabbed a scrap of parchment from the pile and wrote down the dotted letters.

UNESOAC

Seven letters, one for each of the single Latin words. That could be one word, or two. Or even three, really, with the a.

It might have been nothing. It might have been a fluke. But at least she felt like she was making progress.

Taking a page from Peter, she set out creating anagrams.

She'd run through half the combinations when she heard a creak outside the library door. Her free hand dropped onto the map and her piece of parchment, and froze.

Dorcas threw open the door and stalked inside.

Lily held her breath, her palm damp against the map, her heart thudding painfully. She flinched when a drop of wax landed on her hand, and righted her candle, keeping her eyes on Dorcas.

Thankfully Dorcas was not one to dither. She grabbed a book off the shelves across from Lily, spun around, and stomped out to the main deck again.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind Dorcas, Lily scrambled to roll up the map and shove it back in the cabinet. She snuck out onto the main deck, crept over to the edge, and let the wind yank the parchment full of anagrams out of her hand.

It would be annoying to start over, but better to lose her work than a limb.

Lily had picked up on the crew's shift schedule within two days, and within three had found herself settled in as part of it. She had mornings with Marlene, afternoons with Remus, dinners with James, and evenings with the crew and the map.

But on Lily's sixth day on board, Remus never came up for lunch. Caradoc began serving without him, and no one else spoke out to insist that he wait.

At first Lily said nothing either. Remus might have fallen ill, or had some special duty that day.

But then Sirius smacked Peter on the back of the head over something—Lily had missed what had sparked it—and Marlene slumped in her seat, picking at her food.

Two nights, Remus had said, until the full moon.

Even Caradoc's cooking seemed uninspired after she remembered.

From then on the sun moved quicker than it ever had before, and Lily spent the afternoon alone, trying not to wonder about whether she'd hear howling that night. After the others left, she nicked a piece of parchment from the bookshelf and jotted down the letters from the map.

The closest she came to a seven letter word made of the dotted letters was oceans or ounces. It made no sense as oceans – of course they were in an ocean—but ounces seemed to make even less sense.

She could have tried another tack besides anagrams, but it just seemed logical somehow – she couldn't think of another reason the mapmaker would have added those dots. And their unique placement—one per word, each hidden in plain sight—screamed that they weren't an accident.

Whenever she heard someone approaching the common room, she shoved the parchment scrap down her dress, to be dropped into the ocean at a later time. Eventually, though, she gave up on cracking the letters and wandered out on the deck.

But when Marlene, who'd stayed up for an extra shift, misfired a spell and tore a hole in a sail, James shouted for her to go inside, and Lily followed her back into the common room. Marlene declined her offer to play cards, so Lily read next to her until Marlene finally went to bed in the late afternoon.

Marlene had provided some level of distraction, but now, alone again, Lily couldn't focus on her book. Her mind supplied endless imaginings of what it was like, changing into a wolf, and how awful it must be, and what the chances were that he'd escape and bite the crew.

When the stars were just starting to emerge, Algernon wandered into the common room and hovered inside the door, clearly waiting for Lily.

She sighed and set her book aside. As much as she'd mentally taunted James for this very act, she understood his cat perfectly.

She followed him to the ladder to the gun deck, where he sat down, blinking at Lily.

"You want to go down?" she asked.

He looked at her like she was an idiot, and she scowled.

"I'm the one doing the favor here."

But she liked Algernon, so she awkwardly finagled him under one arm and tried to climb down the ladder.

It became immediately apparent that she'd underestimated the challenge of climbing a ladder while holding a cat, and she'd only managed to climb down two rungs when she heard Peter behind her.

"Here," he said, stretching up his arms toward her.

She bent as low as she could, and Peter pulled Algernon out of her arms.

"Thanks," she said, dropping onto the ground. "He insisted."

Peter smiled at Algernon, who fidgeted in his arms. "He likes being around Remus. Thinks it helps, somehow."

"Well, it makes him feel better than doing nothing, I imagine."

"We're just about to go in." Peter handed Algernon back to her. "Hold him until we've shut the door?"

"Er, all right."

Remus, who looked as pale as the moon that tormented him, sat hunched over in bed. Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulder and helped him to his feet, and together they shuffled forward to climb down to the orlop deck, with Peter, Lily and Algernon a few steps behind them.

Remus moved slowly, awkwardly, like his feet weren't his own, but Peter and Sirius helped him along, past the shelves and candles. Barrels that Lily assumed normally filled the magazine had been moved to line the wall outside instead.

Lily's eyes widened when Sirius began to shut the door with him and Peter still inside.

"What are you—" she started to ask, but her question died at Sirius's stern look.

The door clanged shut, and Lily sat there, unable to do anything, and without the slightest clue as to why they'd trapped themselves in a room with a werewolf on the night of a full moon. Algernon sprang out of her hands and curled up on the ground in front of the magazine door, looking fierce.

Lily sighed and climbed back up to the gun deck, past a sleeping Marlene, and kept on until she'd walked right up to James at the helm.

He tried to smile when she came up the steps, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Well, this is the worst," she said, leaning backwards on the rail in front of him.

"Yeah." He stepped around the helm and rested his forearms on the rail next to Lily. "I'd go down if I didn't have to take care of the ship. But it's pointless to just sit outside the room, I suppose."

"I don't think so," Lily said softly.

He shrugged.

"Are Sirius and Peter…. Will they be all right in there? With him?"

"Hm? No, they're safe. Don't worry. They know spells to protect themselves."

"They'd risk that? To protect us?"

James hummed in response and looked out at the horizon. "Not just us. They protect Remus, too. It helps, having them in there."

Regardless of their skill as wizards, from what Lily knew, no sane person would willingly hang around a transformed werewolf for a minute, much less all night. She'd seen a protective glint in Sirius's eye, though, and how he'd stridden into that room without fear. Peter didn't radiate every emotion the way Sirius did, but he hadn't hesitated for a moment before locking himself up with a werewolf, either.

"Is it awful," she asked quietly, "being a werewolf?"

James smiled without humor and ducked his head. "Remus doesn't complain about it—not ever, stupid git—but I've never seen anything more gruesome than his transformation. And I've seen a man lose his insides."

Lily swallowed loudly. "You've seen him transform, then? Done those spells?"

"If the magazine would hold me I'd be in there myself."

The tense line of his shoulders stood profiled against the moon hanging low in the sky, his head still hanging.

She thought of doing it, and then told herself she shouldn't, and then told herself she must, and then she reached out and squeezed his hand.

She nearly pulled back at the shocked expression he shot at her, but his hand had already clasped back, unrelenting in its grip.

"You're a good friend," she said, for lack of other options.

"Thanks." He looked down at their entwined hands, quirked a half-smile at it, and pulled his hand loose.

Lily was no stranger to the fluttering in her stomach. She wasn't fool enough to pretend she didn't know what it meant.

But clearly she was fool enough to get it in the first place.

He was holding her captive.

He was a pirate.

He had really good hair, yes, but she told her stomach it was stupid and wrenched her gaze out toward the sea.

"I'm going to—go," she said.

He nodded, and she fled.

Lily awoke plenty of times in the night, every groan of the ship or footfall of someone coming to bed rousing her to full alertness. At the snick of a trunk opening, she awoke gasping, sitting up straight in bed, blanket clasped to her chest.

Marlene gave Lily a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, they can't get out. Do you want a sleeping potion? Might be a bit groggy in the morning, but less than if you don't sleep at all."

Lily declined the offer, but then lingered on the verge on sleep, only to be jerked back into consciousness every time she realized she was about to actually fall asleep.

She awoke again in the morning at the sound of shuffling feet. Peter and Sirius helped a limping, shirtless Remus down the gun deck, his arms wrapped around their shoulders. Lily's eyes fell on two new vivid gashes that ran along his chest.

They lay him on his bed, where Marlene sat waiting with her wand in hand. Remus groaned as he adjusted himself on the bed, a muffled, agonized noise, and Lily's heart broke, just a little.

Helplessness dragged at her, an ocean current pulling her down into the depths, and she had nothing to grab hold of.

She sat up to see over the cannon between her and Remus. Marlene had set to work at once, murmuring spells as she trailed her wand along his wounds. They didn't disappear, but the blood vanished and the swelling lessened, and the lines on his face lessened, at least a little.

Sirius and Peter brought Algernon up from the orlop deck and collapsed into their own beds, while Lily sat there, incapable of moving or offering anything. Algernon climbed onto her lap, and her hand started idly running along his back, grateful for something to do.

Marlene applied a salve to Remus's chest, and then another to a fresh bruise on his palm, gently kneading it in. He smiled at her weakly, saying something Lily couldn't make out. Marlene let out a low chuckle.

Lily nearly left—they seemed to be having a private moment—but settled for looking away. She couldn't leave, not yet, and not only because she didn't want to draw attention to her gawking. Instead she focused on Algernon's rough fur beneath her palm. He needed a bath.

Marlene stroked Remus's hair back from his forehead before bundling up the jars in a cloth. She threw a quick smile at Lily, tucked her potions into her trunk, and disappeared up to the main deck.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Remus said, although his subsequent groan said otherwise.

"I doubt that," Lily said.

Algernon leapt out of her lap and trotted around the cannon to lie down next to Remus.

"I've had worse nights," Remus said.

"Is this the result of a good night?"

"No." He rolled his shoulder, and grimaced. "The wolf doesn't care for being on a ship."

"You could rethink your lifestyle choices."

Remus let out a low, deep laugh that mutated into a haggard cough. "That's very thoughtful, Lily, but believe me, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

The sun shone high in the sky when Lily emerged onto the deck, its rays half hidden by tall, billowing clouds that looked like painted brush strokes. Marlene stood nearby, bespelling some ropes to reweave themselves into the rigging on the main mast, but Lily passed her by and instead swung by the common room for a piece of fruit before retreating to the forecastle deck. The sun helped chase away the crisp memory of Remus's bleeding chest, the brisk air fresh and welcome on her face.

She heard the door to the library open in the distance behind her, and her body turned automatically, her lips curling into a smile.

Her smile fell.

It was just Sirius emerging from the library. He paused, looking around the ship, and spotted Lily. He shot her a smug grin, and made his way up to the helm for his shift.

A cocky smile from James was endearing. From Sirius, it was unbearable.

Still. She had things to say to him, and she was no coward.

She marched down a set of stairs and up another, until she was directly in front of him.

"Hi," she said.

He raised his eyebrows, the picture of a bored lord, if most lords made a habit of practically lounging on pirate ship helms.

"I know you prefer pretending I don't exist," she said, "but I needed to say something, and then I'll go, all right?"

He waved a lazy hand through the air. "Then say it."

She pulled her shoulders back and shook her hair behind her shoulders. "I think what you did for Remus—whatever it is—is really brave. He deserves friends who'll do that sort of thing for him."

If Lily hadn't seen Sirius scowl at her every day for the past week, she might not have been able to tell the difference between when he was actually annoyed, and when he was just feigning it.

He was definitely pretending now.

"Yeah, well," he said, shrugging off something invisible, "someone's got to or he'll tear himself to shreds."

"Good," she said firmly. "Well, that's it. We can go back to pretending the other doesn't exist now."

"Brilliant."

"Right."

"Also," he said, as though it were only barely relevant, "James won't have time for dinner with you tonight."

"Oh. Well. Thanks for telling me."

He started to roll his eyes, and she turned around to hurry down the steps.

It was probably nothing. It was probably related to the shift changes or their mission or…something. It probably wasn't about her at all.

All the rationalizations she could imagine didn't matter, though. Her chest still twinged, and she retreated to the forecastle deck.

With Remus out of commission, everyone on the crew pulled extra shifts, leaving Lily to entertain herself after lunch. She tried to read, and tried to play chess against herself, and even tried just staring out at the sea, but nothing interested her. She fidgeted when seated, and wanted nothing more than to lie down after standing on the deck for ten minutes.

Mostly, annoyingly, she thought of James, and his wind-tousled hair, and his ever-moving mouth, and his oh so faint stubble.

She hadn't thought of anyone this way in a very long time.

On the one hand it felt like what she thought heights must do for other people, an exhilarating thrill well worth the danger.

But while others found a certain rush in significant heights, Lily was terrible at them. Thinking of James that way made her feel like she was in the crow's nest again, with nothing but a thin railing between her and a perilous freefall.

Normally when she felt any sort of stirring she threw herself in, like she had with Sam. They'd fallen into a mutually beneficial relationship the first night they'd met, perfectly understanding each other without speaking the words.

But James….

Presumably she'd be on board a while longer yet, and she couldn't very well spend the whole time wondering whether his palms were rougher than hers.

And besides, he'd flirted with her. He'd admitted he found her beautiful, and his attention never wandered far from her when she was around.

She wouldn't have minded some relief on board, not with the baseline level of anxiety she faced just by being trapped around Sirius and Dorcas.

It would be good for both of them, and probably loads of fun. He was playful, and generous. Surely he'd make it worth her while. She could certainly make it worth his.

She skipped out on dinner—she wasn't going to sit in a room with only Peter and Dorcas for company if she could avoid it—and pilfered a snack from the galley after Caradoc brought up dinner.

She couldn't borrow another dress from Marlene, who was sleeping, but she tried to make her hair look as presentable as possible and clattered up the ladder to the main deck.

She stole through the dark library, stepping lightly out of habit, but then hesitated in front of his door.

Maybe this wasn't the best idea, but she—she wanted to try, if nothing else. It made sense, it was practical, and…she wanted to know if he kissed like she thought he would.

She knocked on the door, just once.

At first she heard nothing, no footsteps or comments to Algernon. He wasn't necessarily inside, of course – she hadn't checked to make sure he wasn't in the common room.

But soon enough he opened the door.

"Er," he said. "I've already eaten."

"So have I."

"Then…did you need something?"

"Yes. May I come in?"

He studied her for a moment before fully opening the door for her. She passed through and sat down on the edge of his table, now cluttered with parchments.

He stood next to the open door, arms folded, waiting expectantly. Something so simple shouldn't have been so endearing. It might not have been if he hadn't been wearing that bloody hat of his.

She slowly crossed one leg over the other. "I've been a bit bored," she said, keeping her voice low and smooth.

"Hmm," he said.

"And I thought, maybe, you could help me keep entertained."

"I'm only fun when I'm talking to my cat, and he abandoned me for the evening."

She ducked her head, her hair falling forward to frame her face. "I'm sure we could think of something else to keep ourselves occupied."

He raised his eyebrows. "I can't help but feel you've something specific in mind. But my Legilimancy's always been crap."

"Well," she said, drawing out the word. "I've heard physical exertion can be very helpful on ships. To use different muscles, and all."

He kicked the door shut with one easy movement and sauntered over to her, hands in his pockets.

"Mm, haven't heard that before." He came to a halt in front of her, her foot nearly grazing his shin. "I liked the treasure euphemism better, all things considered."

"I'm flexible," she murmured, reaching up to play with the shirt strings around his collar.

"In more ways than one, I should think."

"Oh," she said, pulling on the cords, enough that they drew tight, enough for her to use it as leverage to pull his chest down toward her, "more than you can imagine."

In one swift movement, she stood up, pulled his head down toward her, and captured his lips in a kiss.

Fortunately, he was better than she'd expected, unrelenting and demanding.

Unfortunately, the kiss lasted about five seconds.

He abruptly stepped back, and she slackened her grip on his shirt strings to avoid strangling him.

"Actually I'm feeling plenty relieved," he said, eyes flicking about the room. "So I don't think I'll be much help."

"Not even to do a girl a favor?"

The line of his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Well, the thing is, and this is coming from me, mind you, it seems like a bad idea."

One of his hands had wandered up to clasp the back of his neck, and he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Lily was no fool.

"Right." She stood up and brushed imaginary dust off her dress. "I mean, if you think I can't keep it from the others—"

"That's not—I mean, for one thing, I'm holding you prisoner."

"And for two?"

His eyes finally found hers, but they were hard. "The one I gave should be plenty of reason for you, I should think."

There wasn't actually a thread pulled tight around her heart, but it certainly felt like it, sharp and pinched. "I'm sorry if I misread," Lily said, her cheeks heating. "I'll just—I'll just leave, then."

"I think you should."

"Right. I suppose…good night, then."

"Good night."