Narcissa smiles, the light coming back to her eyes. "The lost city of Atlantis. It's real. Not lost at all, just cloaked by magic."
"Atlantis? The city that sank beneath the waves?" Hermione asks. Even she has heard this legend, though there are many conflicting reports about where the city was located in the first place.
Narcissa nods, reaching out a pale hand to close Cedric's eyelids. "Yes. Only it didn't sink. There was a prophecy thousands of years ago that predicted earth falling victim to catastrophic global events, so they began to prepare for the way the world would change."
"How, exactly?" Andromeda asks, using her wand to summon a sheet. With a flick of her wand, Cedric is bundled tightly in the white fabric. Hermione sees red seeping through, and has to look away, grateful for the way Bellatrix briefly squeezes her shoulder.
"Do we send him down to the lower cargo hold?" Narcissa asks the Captain. When Bellatrix nods, she flicks her wand and the man disappears from the deck. The blonde then gets to her feet, the others following suit. "They placed a number of charms on the island to cloak it from view, and they have been using ancient elemental magic to keep the city level with the rising seas."
"Like a floating island?" Hermione asks. Magic is still not something that she understands very well, and she has no idea what it is capable of doing.
"Yes, exactly. Well, not floating, exactly. From what I can work out, Atlantis is built on a volcanic island, so they're constantly altering the geology, pushing the island up from underneath so it stays perfectly level with the sea," Narcissa explains patiently. "We should probably all talk about this."
"Yes. I'll call a meeting," Bellatrix decides. "But first of all we need to get away from here as soon as possible. We don't know anything about the wizard that disarmed Cedric, but if he's working for muggles, then that can't be good. Narcissa, Andromeda, can you summon the rest of the crew? I'll go and talk to the harbourmaster about getting our cargo loaded this afternoon, rather than tomorrow morning. With any luck, we'll be ready to leave on the evening tide."
The three sisters all walk off purposefully, and Hermione is left topside, wondering what to do. She heads down below deck to find her daughter, but there is no sign of her in the common room. Up ahead she can hear giggling and follows the sound, her heart feeling full. When was the last time she heard Rose giggle like that? For so many years she has been quiet to the point of withdrawn. How had Hermione not realised just how much their living situation was affecting her?
This might not be a conventional way of life, but there is no doubt that her daughter is thriving on board, even in the short time that they have been here. She heads along the narrow side corridor to the left of the common room, inwardly chiding herself for calling it that. Port, she corrects herself. It's not left and right any more, it's port and starboard. It's not front and back anymore, it's the bow and stern. What was it Ginny had said? 'Port' has four letters, just like 'left', and is denoted by the colour red… which is the same colour as port, as in, the drink. Not that Hermione has ever had any, but Ginny described it as a stronger, sweeter wine. However, she's pretty sure she will never get port and starboard mixed up again.
The corridor opens out into a room that is sectioned off using wood panelling, to create semi-private spaces, with an open doorway leading into them. She peers through one curiously. Inside each cabin is a hammock, and a cupboard built into the outside wall of the ship. So this is where the crew sleeps then, she deduces.
"Mum, look! This is my new room," Rose declares proudly, calling Hermione over and showing her the section she's been allocated. Hermione snorts. Room might be a little much. The entire space each crew member has is less than Rose's single bed back home.
No. Not home. Just… somewhere they lived for a while. For far too long.
"Do you like it?" she asks, though the answer is clear from the way Rose is smiling.
Rose nods happily, taking hold of her hand and dragging her across the other side of the room. "This one is yours. Once we've unpacked, we can get rid of our cases. Luna says they can be stored in the hold if we really want to keep them, but we don't need to, right?"
Not sure how to answer that, Hermione shrugs. How long are they going to live on board? Will they eventually find somewhere else to start over? Settle down in one of the other cities? Or is this her life now?
Luna grins at her. "We thought you'd like this one. It's as far away from Ron as you can get."
"Oh. Thank you. Is Ron… well, is it bad to be near him?"
"Not in the way you might be thinking," Luna explains. "He does snore though."
Hermione laughs. "In that case a little distance is good. I'm normally a light sleeper."
"You might have been before you came on board, but I guarantee that the sea air and work will soon have you sleeping soundly," Luna promises.
"What work do you do here?" Hermione asks, leaning against her berth.
"Well, officially I'm the ship's seer. We all chip in to keep this beauty running, though. There is an autopilot system but it's always good to have people on deck and the less we use autopilot, the less power we consume. Bellatrix prefers that we sail manually, if we can."
"What about magic?" Rose asks.
There it is, that patient smile that the whole crew seems to adopt when talking to Rose. Luna turns to give her her full attention. "We do use magic sometimes. We sometimes use proximity charms to make sure that we don't run into any other ships. Shields are occasionally used for protection, and cloaking spells can keep us hidden. It's draining to use that amount of magic though, so we keep it to a minimum."
"You don't use it to sail?" Rose asks, a disappointed frown on her face.
"Only when we absolutely have to. If we used our magic all the time, then we wouldn't have enough if we actually needed it. Bellatrix likes us to be at our best, at all times."
"Okay," Rose replies, and just like that, she moves on from the conversation, darting into her own berth. "I'm just going to unpack," she informs them both enthusiastically.
Hermione laughs gently. "Okay. I'll be in the common room."
Luna walks out with her and by the time they get there, the room is no longer empty; filled with crew that have been summoned. They are all there with the exception of the Captain, but the woman appears as if summoned, striding into the room.
"Right, you lot. Sorry your jollies have been cut short, but if we can turn around on the evening tide, then I'll give you a full weekend on Pleasure Island."
A hush falls over the crew and Hermione wonders if the name really indicates what the island is for.
"Maybe you'll finally get laid, eh Ron?" Ginny teases, elbowing her brother in the ribs. He mumbles under his breath, cheeks turning pink.
"Enough of that, for now," Bellatrix scolds them, though her lips twitch tellingly. "The harbourmaster is arranging for our cargo to be loaded, and they'll be here in the next half an hour. Give the dockers a hand and we'll be done in half the time. We don't want to miss this tide, you know what the current is like around Port Terra."
It's comical, the matching grimaces the crew then display, and Hermione wonders if she will ever know the various ports well enough to understand a statement like this. She hopes so. She's certainly willing to learn, if someone is willing to teach her.
"What about supplies?" Harry speaks up. "I was halfway through sorting things when I was summoned."
Bellatrix hums thoughtfully. "Take Hermione and hit the market at the end of the Harbour. Get us the basics, just enough to last until we hit the next port. No matter what we decide to do later, our best bet is to head towards Port Ignis."
"You got it, Captain," Harry replies, nodding towards Hermione with a friendly smile.
"What about everything else," Andromeda prompts meaningfully, exchanging a look with both her sisters.
Bellatrix pulls her lips tight. "Let's get ourselves underway, and then we'll have a meeting." Bellatrix turns to face the rest of the crew. "Thank you for coming back so quickly and not asking questions. You've probably guessed that we had a reason for your return to the ship. Once we're clear of Port Terra, we'll get together and fill you in on everything. Keep your questions to yourself until then. Dismissed."
Hermione slides out from her seat at the table. She meets Luna's eyes, but before she gets the chance to speak, the blonde witch smiles. "I'll tell Rose you're with Harry. Don't worry, we might not be used to kids around here, but we'll all look out for her."
"Thanks," Hermione replies, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. She turns towards Harry. "Ready?"
"Nearly," Harry answers, turning away. He reaches for Draco, cradling his face gently and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. The blonde wizard smiles back at him goofily, and Harry smirks, turning back to Hermione. "Now I'm ready."
She follows him up on deck, and much like she had earlier, scrambles up the side of the ship to drop down onto the harbour below without any assistance. Harry looks at her with a mildly impressed expression and she basks in the approval he gives her so freely.
They spend a pleasant hour walking through the huge market there. It's nothing like the almost clinical shopping centres up in the cities and Hermione soaks it all in. They don't pick up anything as they walk through the aisles, but Harry makes notes on an Info Glass. Hermione has seen tablets before, but Harry assures her this is the very latest technology and not available on the open market yet.
There are vegetables and fruits that Hermione has never seen before, colourful and vibrant, filling the air with sweet and earthy aromas that she eagerly fills her lungs with. All food in the cities is grown in huge biomes, and she's always assumed that each city probably had the same produce available. But no. There are foods here beyond her wildest imagination and she gets the sudden urge to cook. She wonders if perhaps this is something she could do to earn her keep.
"Do you ever get help in the kitchen?" she asks the man next her who is running an expert eye over the produce and making notes.
He snorts. "If only. No one wants galley duty, and I'm lucky if they can be bothered to return their dishes to the scullery."
"Galley duty? Scullery?"
He pats her on the shoulder. "Sorry. Keep forgetting you're a rookie. Galley is just another name for a kitchen on a ship. The scullery is where dirty plates and bowls are cleaned, and food waste is collected. Neville deals with that, though. He makes his own compost, did you know?"
Hermione shakes her head. Everything she has heard since joining the crew has been a really steep learning curve and she wonders if she should be embarrassed about her lack of knowledge. Harry smiles at her though, reassuring and warm.
"Don't worry, Hermione. We were all new once. No one will ever mock you for asking questions or not knowing something. We've all learned on the fly, and that's the easiest way."
Feeling better, Hermione nods. "Thanks. So Neville makes compost? He's the herbologist, right?"
"Yeah, he has a few things growing up on the foredeck, but most of his stuff is in the lower cargo hold. He's got a nifty little set up down there with UV lights, so things grow without the natural daylight. He keeps me well stocked in the herbs I need to cook with."
"Everyone really does have a job to do…" Hermione trails off, unsure how to put her concern into words.
She needn't have worried, Harry bumping her shoulder. "Don't worry so much. This is all brand new for you, and there is a lot to learn. Concentrate on learning how to live this life, and then work out what you're good at. You might not realise it now, but I'm sure you have a lot to offer, Hermione."
She smiles, but doesn't answer, too lost in her own thoughts. What is she good at? What unique skills does she have? Up until now, she would have been able to put forward at least a few suggestions, but she's surrounded by witches and wizards, who can do almost anything with a flick of their wand. What does that leave in terms of things she can realistically offer?
Harry leaves her to her thoughts, and quietly leads her to the counter where he arranges payment with a transfer of universal credits, the currency that is used all around the globe. By the time they are back out on the open harbourside, Hermione's feet are aching and she yawns.
"We'll head back now," Harry tells her with a sympathetic smile. "Though be prepared, we might need an extra pair of hands to get loaded in time. It's really important we hit the tide."
"Why? I don't understand. The ship's got motors, hasn't it?"
Harry nods. "Yeah, but around these parts, the current is really strong at certain times of day. It's all down to the mountains, you know? You can only see the peaks of them, but underneath the surface they affect the current a lot, especially when combined with a tide running in the wrong direction. Even with full sail and motors, it can be difficult to leave the port."
They walk in silence for a while, Hermione taking in the sights and smells around her. They walk past a shop that sells all kinds of trinkets and antiquities, and she can't resist taking a peek in through the doorway as she walks past. The owner spots her, and gives her a friendly wave. She raises a hand to wave back, freezing when the second man turns around and pale eyes meet hers.
She sees the immediate flash of recognition and it's enough for her to dart into action, jogging two paces to where Harry has come to a stop, looking at her curiously.
"Everything alright, Hermione? You look pale."
She forces herself to smile, shoving her hands into her jeans pocket lest he see them shaking. "Yeah, fine. Just wondering what they were selling."
His brow crinkles, but he lets the matter drop. She risks a glance over her shoulder, only to meet the same pale eyes staring after her, his expression unreadable as he now stands outside the shop. She speeds up, knowing they are not far from the ship and wanting nothing more than to feel the security of the wooden planks beneath her feet. How funny that this should be somewhere that makes her feel safer than any home she has ever known. She tries her best to ignore the churning worry that is threatening to bubble up inside her.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she practically runs up the gangplank, and jumps gracefully down onto the deck without pausing. She turns to face the harbour, but the man is nowhere in sight and she finally breathes a sigh of relief. What are the chances that he would be here? And even if it is him, what are the chances that he knows she is missing from her husband, or even that he recognises her, considering the changes to her appearance.
Hermione takes a shuddering breath, releasing it slowly. No matter what she tries to convince herself of, she knows full well that the man identified her. All she can hope is that they get underway before he can do anything about it.
Determined to keep herself out of view, she volunteers to help below deck. The work is hard. They redistribute the cargo that is remaining on board, and make room for the new, that she had noticed being stacked on the harbour next to the ship, ready to be packed on board.
-xXx-
The afternoon flies by in a blur of activity. She spends hours below deck helping to stack the cargo ready for their next drop-off point. It's hot work. Hermione assumes that being below deck will be cooler, undercover as it is from the fierce afternoon sun. Without much airflow, however, and a cloudless sky above them, the temperature below deck creeps higher and higher. By the time they weigh anchor, she's sweating through her vest top, and her hair is wet at the back.
Looking at the rest of the crew, they are all in a similar state, and Bellatrix gives the command that they are all free to take a shower and refresh once they are clear of Port Terra. Even Rose is a hot, sweaty mess, having spent the afternoon helping Harry to put away their delivery of groceries.
There is no denying the feeling of relief that Hermione feels when Port Terra fades into the distance and Bellatrix guides them back out into open waters again. Hermione takes the opportunity to shower, and then changes into light grey, cool, cotton trousers and a loose white kaftan style shirt that she had fallen in love with when shopping with Bellatrix. It's more casual than anything she has worn before, but it's just so comfortable, and despite the heat of the day, she knows that the evening will cool off dramatically. She'll appreciate having a thin layer of fabric covering her arms, later on.
She wanders into the common room, slipping exhaustedly into a seat, and sliding along the bench so there is room for the others to sit next to her. She doesn't even notice the table has filled up around her until Bellatrix waltzes in, far too cheery considering how hard they have all worked today.
"Right, you lot. We're running on autopilot for the next few hours. You've all earned yourselves a break and the right to kick back and relax."
With that announcement, Bellatrix flicks her wand and a bottle of Firewhisky and eleven glasses appear in the middle of the table. Another flick of her wand and a glass of fresh orange juice appears in front of Rose, who salutes the Captain with a grin.
"What's going on then, Cap?" Draco asks when they all have a generous measure in their glasses.
Belaltrix's eyes sparkle excitedly. "We made a discovery today, and it's something that we should all have a chance to decide upon as a whole crew."
"Does it have anything to do with the body in the lower cargo hold?" Neville asks, wrinkling his nose. Rose's mouth drops open and she turns to Hermione, with a question on the tip of her tongue. Hermione doesn't get the chance to answer. Bellatrix notices the girl immediately, and offers her a reassuring smile.
"Rose, I'm sorry you had to hear about it in this way." The Captain shoots a glare at Neville who shrinks into his seat.
"What happened?" Rose asks in a small voice.
"We met a man on the harbourside who had been… injured. We did what we could to try to help him, but it was too late," Bellatrix explains, and Hermione can see the understanding that washes over the rest of the table. "Before he passed on, he had information about something that should have been impossible. Something that we thought was just a legend, until now."
Hermione resists the urge to snort. The Captain has them eating out of the palm of her hand, and is evidently enjoying dragging this out as long as possible, feeding on the suspense her re-telling of the afternoon's events is causing.
"What is it?" Ginny eventually breaks the silence, and again Hermione has to stifle the urge to laugh, because, of course it's Ginny. Of all the crew, she's by far the most outspoken, with the exception of the Captain herself.
"Long ago, there were rumours…" Bellatrix trails offer, looking around the table, all eyes on her. She smirks. "Rumours of an ancient civilisation, that surpassed anything the world had ever known before. They were advanced in ways that no other civilisation was at the time, and in fact, it took thousands of years for the rest of the world to come anywhere close to what they had."
"Why did it take so long?" Draco calls out.
"Because, my dear Nephew, it disappeared!" Bellatrix proclaims dramatically. "One day it was there, and the next? Gone. Poof."
"You mean like Atlantis?" Rose speaks up, awe in her voice.
"No," Bellatrix denies, lips twitching. "Not like Atlantis."
"Then what?" Rose asks, and the whole room shares a smile at the girl's tenacity.
"Not like Atlantis," Bellatrix repeats, lowering her voice for effect. "Atlantis, itself!"
"No way!" Rose squeals. "Did he tell you where Atlantis is? It didn't really disappear, did it?"
"Are you telling this story or am I?" Bellatrix grumbles, but she's smiling. "Yes, Rose. The man we tried to help told us about Atlantis. It's long been believed that it sank beneath the waves. They reasoned that an earthquake had swallowed it, because what other explanation could they have come up with?"
"Then where is it?" and this time it's Harry who asks.
"Cloaked by magic. It's not far from here, by all accounts. Somewhere in the Northern hemisphere."
"Atlantis is real?" Draco repeats disbelievingly. "Then why haven't we heard about it until now?"
"He told me that it was a secret community of witches and wizards, though there are a few select muggles there, too. It's invite only and they are very careful who they tell about it," Narcissa interrupts. "He was disarmed by a wizard and set upon by muggles who were determined to get the location from him. We rescued him before he could give them any information, but unfortunately we were too late to save him."
"And now what?" Ron asks. "Are we going to go and find it? And if we do, what then?"
"Well, that's the question, isn't it?" Bellatrix throws back at him. "This knowledge is a gift. Do we go and take a look, and then decide what to do? We don't have to give up this life, but I'm sure most of you would like to have a base where you feel safe to be yourselves away from muggles."
There are collective sounds of agreement around the table, and Hermione can see them nodding. Are things really so bad for witches and wizards? They were not common in the cities, but those that were around, were usually high ranking and wealthy, under the employ of the government. Though, if Hermione thinks about it, that's not really a good thing. They were used as puppets; paid to do the government's bidding, and always attached to the most corrupt individuals in the political world. The untouchables, people used to call those politicians. The ones where no one in their right might would go up against them, because having a witch or wizard on their side made them a formidable opponent.
Much like Rowle, Hermione thinks with a shudder, the flash of pale eyes in her mind reminding her of her experience on Port Terra. Was it really him on the harbourside?
"I vote we go and see what it's like," Ginny eventually says, after everyone has been quietly mulling it over. "I love living out on the water, but would I like a home away from home? Absolutely."
"Yeah, me too," Draco joins in. "Love the ship, Bella, but it would be nice to have a week or two on land from time to time, in a home of our own." Draco squeezes Harry's hand, and they share a tender smile.
How do they manage to maintain a relationship on board? Draco doesn't have private quarters and neither does Harry. They both have a berth in the main sleeping quarters, she knows. She had seen their names carved into the wooden panels above their hammocks.
"I'm easy either way," Anathema comments with a light shrug. "I'm happy on board, but having a base wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."
"You're easy? Yeah, we know," Ginny informs her, laughing gleefully.
Anathema takes the jibe in her stride. "At least I can find a witch to warm my bed," she replies, her eyes flicking between Narcissa and Andromeda. "Or two," she adds on as an afterthought, winking at the two sisters sitting opposite her. Hermione wonders at their relationship. She's seen Anathema interact with both of the younger Black sisters and she's not entirely sure if she is with one of them, or both.
"So let's vote," Andromeda says, a faint blush on her cheeks, as she turns away from Anathema's teasing gaze. "All those in favour of finding Atlantis, raise your hand."
There is no need for them to count. Every single hand around the table is raised without hesitation and Hermione feels a fission of excitement ripple through her.
"Right. Looks like that's settled then," Bellatrix decrees with a grin. "Now, we celebrate."
"What are we celebrating?" Rose asks curiously.
"Take your pick," Bellatrix advises gently. "We're all alive, we have a great opportunity ahead of us, and if you can find it in yourself, celebrate that young man's life below. We might not have known him, but he will live on in all of us."
Rose nods her understanding, silently raising her glass of orange juice to the Captain, her expression serious. Bellatrix lifts her glass, taking a long sip, and Hermione's heart melts a little at the gesture.
Children on Port Solis were treated so differently to what she has witnessed since she came on board. They were to be seen and not heard, not valued in the slightest until they were old enough to be useful, and for a woman, that meant marriage. A girl of Rose's age was ignored if she was lucky. A girl like her drawing attention to herself, never had a positive outcome.
Here, though, Rose is treated with respect. Like she is worth attention and care, even from the Captain herself. And it's not just Rose, but Hermione too. She's still finding her place on board, and still working out what part of herself she can offer the crew, but she feels valued. The Captain had looked to her, just as much as the others when talking about Atlantis. Despite her new place on the crew, her vote had mattered just as much.
She spends a content evening drinking far more firewhisky than she is used to, chatting with the crew and getting to know them. Rose bids them all goodnight and heads off to bed, having spent the last half an hour propping her head up on her elbow and hiding a yawn when her tiredness got the better of her. Hermione looks around and realises that Bellatrix is no longer with them.
Has she gone to bed already? Her mouth waters slightly when she is reminded of the image of Bellatrix stalking towards her in nothing but lingerie. The firewhisky has lowered her guards and she lets her thoughts run rampant. She imagines them alone, kissing plump lips…. dropping her head so her tongue can trace every curve on the older woman's body. With a confidence entirely connected to the amount of firewhisky in her bloodstream, her addled mind decides it's an appropriate time to hunt down the Captain.
"Where's Bellatrix?" she asks Narcissa, slurring slightly.
The blonde stares at her intently and far too late, Hermione remembers Ginny's warning about eye-contact with the Legilimens. Narcissa smirks. "She's up on deck keeping Draco company. He's got first watch."
"Okay." Hermione feels her cheeks heat up as Narcissa grins again.
"Go and see her. I assure you she will be quite receptive to those sordid little thoughts going through your head."
"Cissa!" Andromeda chides, cackling like, well, a witch. "Stop teasing her."
Narcissa laughs, and Hermione can see the slightly glazed look in her eye. Hermione is not the only one who has overindulged tonight, that much is clear. "Right. Well, I'm just going to…" she trails off, getting up from the table.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Ginny calls after her, and Hermione blushes again when she realises the entire crew apparently know about her infatuation. She stumbles her way to the stairs and climbs them in search of the Captain.