Chapter 2 : The more things thange, the more they stay the same

Harry's life on the ship resumed as if it had never stopped for one more boring summer. He was back to reading reports and suggestions, making plans and stopping overzealous crew members from pulling consecutive all nighters an suicidal stunts. The only difference was currently in his hands as he walked down one of the lengthy corridors toward the engineering section.

This thing had obviously been designed by a mad alien to be as hard to operate as possible. Why couldn't there be big buttons labelled with what they did? Buttons were great. But noooo, everything had to be made of cryptic symbols and arranging them in certain patterns or even moving around a command stone above it. The fact that the entire bloody thing was written in runes he still didn't understand did nothing to endear the device to him, no matter how many times Hermione and the others sang its praises.

Through a combination of trials and errors and of foggy recollections of the few runic words he'd managed to memorise over summer, he finally found what he was looking for. The long strings of text and atomic diagrams describing their reserves of raw materials, compiled by Lavender, appeared on the screen.

The feeling of victory was quickly squashed as Harry realised the list itself was written in runes. So much for trying to look things up himself. He really hoped Terry read through all those computer science books he brought back quickly so he could start on the translation program he mentioned last week. Or at least make it so they could write with proper letters. At this point he'd settle for centaur pictograms.

Anything would be better than runes.

At least the translation team continued to go through the ship, one room and console at a time, sticking notes and translations on all of the unknown consoles and labs they'd found. They already discovered a lot about the ship, but they'd barely scratched the surface and he'd prefer if they didn't push the "eject all the air" button by accident.

As he closed the infuriating list and tried to display the ship's energy consumption, he made a mental note, for the third time that week, that he needed to find someone to look into the ship's weapons. They had recently found out it had some, but they didn't know what they did and how they worked. They most likely won't be able to use such heavy weaponry in the war without racking up some serious trouble, but they would at least know how to defend themselves if need be.

Still focused on the slate, his treck to through the ship almost came to an abrupt end when he almost ran into a door head first. The main storeroom, finally. He was almost tempted to use his hoverboard to move around the ship faster, but he had to ban their use in the corridors last year because of too many collisions between distracted crew members. He pressed the door's control panel absent-mindedly.

"Lavender, I need some-"

He stopped mid sentence however, as he discovered that the room he'd stepped in was not the main store room but a communal bedroom filled with wooden furniture, hammocks, board games and a half finished hand of explosive snap still sending a few sparks every now and then. As they took to spend more time on the ship than in Hogwarts, a good part of the crew had followed their captain's lead and permanently moved in. The new quarters were filling up by the weeks and Harry was starting to worry the head of houses would notice how empty their dorms really were.

"Great. Now how do I open the map on this thing?"

Later that week, in the late hours of the night, Harry arrived at the observation deck they had turned into a mess and relaxation area to find it almost deserter. Only Parvati and Alicia were finishing dinner in a corner as they talked in hushed voices. Harry saluted them with a node before making his way toward his prize: the local console controlling the conjurator. After a good training session with Ron's team and a long evening spent working through yet another pile of reports, the only thing on his mind was a good plate of bangers and mash and a big slice of treacle tart.

Sometimes he wonders how the crew found time to do any work with the amount of reports and ideas they sent him.

Taking up his tray after conjuring the steaming meal on it, Harry turned around only to stop in his tracks. Justin Finch-Fletchley, the very last person he wished to see after Malfoy and Voldemort himself, was coming up to him looking way too pleased with himself. In his arms, several parchment rolls and ingots of different metals telling him his "Head negotiator" was coming back from his latest foray into Goblin territory.

Harry cursed under his breath and desperately looked toward the girls in the corner, in search of support to excuse himself from the grinning Justin. He found them leaving the room at a rushed pace. Parvati turned around just before going through the door to mouth the word 'sorry' before disappearing.

Traitors.

"Ah, Captain, you're here. I've been looking all over for you. I just came back from Gringotts and I think you'll like my report."

With a sight, Harry sat down heavily at the nearest table, putting down his tray. It seemed like he wouldn't escape this tonight.

"Why yes Justin, go on. It's not like I was planning on enjoying a peaceful evening here."

"Perfect. I'll get right to it then."

Completely oblivious to sarcasm as usual, then. He held hope that he would break through to him, one day.

"We've come a long way and established the basis for our future dealings with them. I've started drafting a contract to make sure everything is clearly laid out. Not that it would be legally binding, what with the Ministry not knowing about us or being very friendly toward you, but-"

Merlin, did he love to hear himself talk.

A few weeks ago, Justin had been appalled to hear the reports on the first few meetings with Gringotts. He had tracked down Lee and Hermione to explain in excruciating detail everything they had done wrong and why they should not have been the ones to handle it to begin with. As he seemed unable to take a hint and his incessant tirade did not seem to end, those two had the brilliant idea to get rid of the annoying distraction by sending him to voice his complaints directly to Harry.

He hadn't had the time to decide how but one thing was certain: they would both pay for this.

Maybe scrubbing the ship's hull by hand? That could work...

That day, Justin had almost bored him to death with an uninterruptible rant on proper negotiation methods for almost three hours , ignoring all his less than subtle hints to stop. He'd announced he would be the one taking care of all their 'public and foreign relations problems'. Apparently, Lee and Hermione might be able to run the numbers but they were definitely not fit to take care of such important matters. He also doubted that they even knew about Goblin society and customs they would need to respect if they wanted to make this a long term agreement.

Desperate for a way out of this infernal monologue, Harry had yielded completely. He'd named Justin "Fleet Diplomat" or some other rot he'd come up with on the spot before running away. Later, he wondered if he had made a mistake in his haste to get away. Talking it out with Ron as they trained had led him to the conclusion that it didn't matter in the end.

At this point, they had the greedy little buggers onboard with the deal hook, line and sinker. Now that they knew what they had to win in this, they wouldn't pass on the opportunity. This deal would serve as a test to see if Justin was as half as good as he seemed to think he was. It's not like they had anything to lose, what with their virtually limitless resources.

Oh right. This whole thing was supposed to be a test. Might be a good idea to actually listen and look like he cared about it.

"-will want to keep the deal going for as long as possible, so they most likely won't turn on us. We can trust the merchant caste as they have everything to win in this and we have the interest of the artisans. The only uncertainty is the reaction of the noble caste. They haven't taken a stance on the deal yet but since we threaten their monopoly while bringing virtually infinite supply of rare items, we can't be sure of anything. They requested some more samples for testing so I will need more credits for the Conjurator."

See? No risk. Still, this was undeniably a good start as they weren't likely to get thrown out of the bank. He had no idea where or why Justin even learned any of this stuff but he supposed it didn't matter.

"Granted. I'll see with Lavender to get you a stone with unlimited credit. Don't lose it." Harry said, making a mental note to take care of it before crashing down tonight. "You can give the Goblins everything they want, as long as it keeps them from helping Voldemort's side."

Justin made no effort to mask the grimace he made when he heard the name but gave no comment on it. Some in the crew were still dubious of his story about the dark lord's return but figured putting up with his "eccentricity" was a small price to pay to stay on the ship.

"For now, it seems like the best we can do. I broached the subject but they strictly refuse to interfere with their other clients. Though they shouldn't do anything that might jeopardise the deal so they won't work against us at least. With time, I might be able to get some more leeway with them though."

"Do what you can."

With that, Justin began to pack up the parchments he had laid out on the table to illustrate his presentation. Just as he was ready to leave, however, Harry called back to him.

"Oh and Justin?"

"Yes?"

"Next time, just write out your report and send it to me, please. Like everyone else." Harry says before he took a bite out of his tart as he walked away.

During yet another late night, when most of the crew had already gone to sleep, a single figure sat on the bridge. Comfortably installed on a padded chair, the girl clad in a black and yellow suit was reading the various parchments and slates she had spread out on the largest console.

Around her, an assortment of pedestal-shaped consoles faced the set of large windows arching across half of the room. Stools and chairs had been placed in front of the consoles and a great fluffy carpet with sitting pillows thrown around on top of it had been set up in front of the windows.

The adult members of the crew, if he could call those particular seventeen years old adults, had made a few discoveries about the ship during summer break. The most notable was the giant screen on the far wall of the bridge, opposite to the windows. They had then found several "wall screens" such as this throughout the ship, mostly in laboratories.

They could be used to display pretty much anything they wanted, from the content of the database to the ship's sensors' feeds. Right now it was showing a map of the Requirement, annotated with numerous writings in runes giving information on the status of the ship's various systems.

When she heard the soft sound of the door opening, she briefly looked up from her work to send a teasing smile at the newcomer.

"Admiral on the bridge! Do I need to salute when you enter a room now?"

Harry let out a groan and sent her a tired look as he let himself fall heavily on a nearby stool.

"Please not you too, Hannah. I've had enough of that with the twins already."

"All right, all right. But you'll have to get used to it at one point."

"Remind me again why I let Katie talk me into making this whole military-like hierarchy thing again?"

"Because while everyone in the DA respects you enough to follow your orders, the adults we recruit might object if we don't make it clear you're the one in charge. And it would become more complicated to just call you "Captain" if we ever manage to have more than one ship." She explained patiently, not looking up from the job application she was reading.

"Merlin forbid this whole thing stays between us... Hermione and Lee seem determined to turn this into a whole fleet. Still no news of the Creevy?"

Colin and Denis had been pulled from Hogwarts after the end of term this summer. They'd told their parents about Voldemort and the growing anti-Muggleborn stance of the Ministry. What the brothers hadn't expected was their decision to move to America to protect them. It hadn't stopped them from being part of the crew though.

"Not yet. I've been going through some of the applications sent by Clarissa in the meantime."

"Ms. Edgecombe, right? She's been helping out with the recruitment?"

That did prompt Hannah to look up from her work and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Well someone had the bright idea of imposing a screening process with draconian background checks. With the muggleborn getting fired left and right, we're getting more people answering the recruitment ad each day. And it's not like managing the shop takes her much time anyway since we're barely doing any sales."

Harry knew that, out of the entire crew, he was asking the most out of her. Especially since she and Ms. Edgecombe were doing the work of a much bigger team until they could get the first recruits to help. He did what he could to assist her when he had the time but that was precisely what he sorely lacked lately. The dark circles beneath her eyes mirroring his own told him she did too.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he sank a bit more on the stool's padding.

"I know it's a lot. But we have to be careful. This ship is possibly the greatest discovery ever made in human history. The Ministry is already filled to the brim with Death Eaters and sympathisers by now, and they're already snooping around the shop. Imagine what they could do if they got in and took over the ship."

"Sounds a bit paranoid. I know we have to stay secret but not everyone is out to get us."

"Maybe not but... You remember the defence professor, two years ago?"

"Creepy Moody? I still have nightmares of his eye." Her hand stilled for a moment, as a cold shiver went down her spine, before moving again to continue her work.

"Turned out he wasn't the real Mad eye Moody after all. A Death Eater kidnapped him and took his place before he even came to Hogwarts. We didn't find out until after he managed to set up my kidnapping during the third task. The real Moody spent the year in a trunk."

Hannah's quill stilled once more and even in the faint light, Harry could see the blood drain from her face.

"That's..."

She opened and closed her mouth several times, but her words kept failing her. It took a moment before she could gather herself and colours returned to her.

"Alright... I'll do what I can."

"...Thanks, Hannah."

Well done Harry. Got an O in your "How to kill the mood" class? Not everyone is used to murderers in diguise living next to them for months.

They sat there awkwardly for a while, the silence only broken by the grating of a quill on parchment as Hannah continued her work.

After a while, Harry couldn't take the heavy atmosphere anymore. He looked up behind him to the two round muggle clocks displaying different times had been hung on the wall, just above the main console. Above each of them, the words "London" and "Salem" had been written in black.

"Still, they're quite late... Should we call them?"

The change of subject seemed to do the trick as Hannah's tense posture relaxed and she looked at him like an older sister would their younger sibling with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I'm sure they're just busy. They haven't found a way to leave Ilvermorny yet so they still have to be careful when they want to call. They can't huddle in a toilet stall every time."

The two brothers had been tasked with finding a place where they could open another shop. Once Hannah recruited and trained some new members, one of them would be sent overseas to help out and sign for everything.

Even though he felt a bit guilty about it, Harry was honestly relieved the two brothers would be away for a while. As much as he had come to like Colin over the years, he hadn't got to know Denis outside of the DA.

While he was relieved they got out of the country before the war blew up, Harry was glad they wouldn't be sneaking around taking pictures anymore. Sure, Colin had toned it down with the years and Dennis had never been as bad as his brother was at his age but they'd never really stopped.

"Merlin, I hope so." He muttered under his breath. "What have you been working on lately?" Harry asked.

"Aside from these? Madam Pomfrey agreed to teach Susan and Dean about healing when she isn't too busy. I gave them a room in the lower section to turn into the potion lab and infirmary they wanted. They should start setting up everything tomorrow."

"Good. I can't imagine she'd be happy if we continued to show up with burns and wounds we can't explain."

The idea had come after one too many accidents last year while testing modifications for the suits. There was no trained healer on board and those who graduated couldn't just go to the infirmary anymore. Like so many other things lately, they needed to learn how to do it themselves.

"I also started compiling a lot of what we've learned in a manual for the future hires. Paired with Angelina's growing runic dictionary, it should-" Hannah continued before getting interrupted by an overly excited voice coming out of the command stone she used as a paper weight.

"Hey guys! You'll never believe what we found under a toilet seat!"

As it turned out, Hogwarts was not the only magical school filled with secret passages.

Harry was bored out of his mind.

The scant rays of light passing between the thick black curtains kept the classroom in a depressing gloom. Harry was not really paying attention as Snape was droning on once more, explaining in excruciating details the principle behind non vocal casting. Again . For the third time in the last hour.

He briefly wondered if taking Potions with Slughorn instead would have been a better experience. At least he could have tried to win the luck elixir he'd heard about... Not that he was good enough a potionner to win in the first place. From what he'd heard, a Slytherin had pocketed it. Some things never changed.

His first lesson with Dumbledore had come and gone on the first week-end after they got back to the castle. Though he still wasn't sure as to why they needed to see memories of Voldemort and his family, he had to admit there was something bothering him about what he saw. Like he was missing something important, something he should know, but try as he might, he couldn't figure out what bothered him so...

After a week, the only things coming to mind when he thought back to those memories were a really creepy eleven years old Tom Riddle and a Dumbledore with the delicacy of Hagrid in a potion shop. He had not spent two sleepless nights thinking of the similarities between Riddle and him, thank you very much.

Even discussing what he saw with Ron and Hermione did not help. His attempts to retell the content of the memories of another person only managed to confuse him further. He'd at least found the time to share everything with them. Like the prophecy.

Ron had been both relieved and furious after discovering what Mr. Weasley had been guarding when he was attacked. Mr. Weasley was frozen between life and death, without any prospect of recovery, not to protect a weapon, but a sketchy prophecy made by none other than Trelawney?

Yeah, he would have been pretty pissed too.

Who was he kidding? He was pissed. Mr. Weasley was a good man who didn't deserve any of this. And now Mrs. Weasley was like a shadow of herself, her worry, sadness and sleepless nights always noticeable, even when she put on a brave front for them and kept smiling.

None of this was fair.

Ron had vented for a bit and Harry had listened silently while Hermione held him. He suddenly stopped mid-rant to face him, his freckled face and calculating eyes more resolute than he had ever seen him.

"Dad almost got killed to stop You-Know-Who. I never knew my uncles because of the bastard and he won't stop until he's killed every single one of us. It's more than time we put him down for good. I'm with you until the end, mate."

Since then, Ron had been full of a newfound and almost frightening intensity. While the daily afternoon training sessions of the combat team had started out like an extension of last year's DA lessons, he had turned them into brutal military-style exercises.

That's when the reality of what they were doing really hit him.

They were turning into soldiers. They weren't kids getting in way over their heads and barely scraping by anymore. They were preparing to fight and end the war of their parents. Teaching them to defend themselves was one thing but this? He wouldn't escape facing Voldemort since he kept chasing him but he didn't want to send his crew against Death Eaters.

Bollocks, why couldn't they have normal worries like quidditch and girls? Even just for one years? That'd be nice...

Deep in his thoughts, Harry never noticed Snape's droning voice had stopped until his chair sprang to life, reared up and threw him to the ground. Snickers and half whispered insults briefly filled the room as Snape waited for them to die out.

"Unless one of you miraculously managed to transcend my expectations and cast a silent confusion charm on Potter, it seems that our ever slothful celebrity decided he could dispense himself from this lesson." Snape said in an icy tone as he turned to look down back at Harry.

"Five points from Gryffindor. The Dark Arts are not to be underestimated and I will not tolerate daydreaming in this class. Was I clear enough for you this time Potter? Or would you rather spend your evenings in detention?"

Harry bit back the retort threatening to come out. As pleasant as the thought of taking the piss out of Snape was, he had better things to do with his evenings than scrubbing cauldrons...

It would be fun though...

But instead of letting his instincts take the better of him, Harry simply stood back up and put his chair back in place.

"Yes sir. Very clear."

"As I thought." Snape said with a tone of finality before turning around. He walked back toward his desk in great strides. Without stopping, he made the barely readable writings on the board vanish with a flick of his wand and addressed the class. "You will write forty inches on the ways to differentiate and combat dark spirits without verbal incantations for Tuesday. Dismissed."

Soon, Snape disappeared through the small door at the end of the room. Bolting up from his seat as if he was mounted on a spring, Harry picked up his bag with haste. In a practised motion, he threw his things in it as quickly as he could before closing it and walking quickly toward the exit, Ron and Seamus hot on his heels. Bad enough he still had Snape after dropping Potions, he wouldn't spend more time than needed in his classroom.

As they walked down the stairs of the tower, the trio debated the merits of releasing lethifolds in Snape's classroom and writing down his reaction for their essays.

"Mate, careful!"

As he paid little attention to where he was going, Seamus's sudden shout was Harry's only warning before running into a small boy in blue-trimmed robes. They'd barely begun to fall before Harry's reflexes kicked in and he pulled the young Ravenclaw against his chest as he turned, bracing for the impact. The fall and pain he was expecting did not come however, as he felt Ron's hand grasp his collar and yank them back up.

"Easy there, Harry. Don't go dying on us."

"Yeah, that'd be a pretty shite way to die."

Relaxing, Harry let out the breath he was holding as he let go of the boy. He couldn't have been more than a third year and looked like a small animal, trembling all over like he was. He took a shaky step back and nearly slipped again, but Seamus put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. The boy's eyes were wide in a mix of amazement and terror Harry had long come to know. Still, that's no reason to be cruel to a kid.

"You alright there?"

The boy pulled up a piece of parchment from his robes with a trembling hand before throwing it in Harry's direction and ran down the stairs without a word. The note bounced on his concealed armour plate and would have fallen down the stairs had he not caught it with practised ease.

"I swear, they're treating you like a ghoul with dragon pox."

"He's probably worse in his eyes. Most blokes out there are convinced Harry killed Cedric and only escaped Azkaban because of his fame."

The glare Ron sent to the back of the running boy could have melted Goblin steel.

"What, they still believe that crap the prophet's printing?"

"Like everyone else." Harry said bitterly, turning around and resuming his descent. Behind him, Ron and Seamus gave each other concerned looks before catching up with him.

He liked to think that it didn't bother him. That he didn't care since he was used to it. Reminding himself of that fact every time he walked through the castle with fearful stares glued to him didn't seem to make it true, however.

Clenching his fists in frustration, Harry felt something get crumbled up in his grasp. Oh, right. The note. Probably the time for the next lesson with Dumbledore. Taking it out and unfolding it did not reveal the handwriting of the headmaster, however, but Mcgonagall's instead. It was an invitation to meet for tea in her office that afternoon.

"Guess I'll have to make a detour today."

Harry reached the end of the stairs and decidedly not looked at the Ravenclaw he could still hear running away in the corridor. Instead, he took off in the opposite direction. He had to go see McGonagall anyway. And it's been a while since he'd just walked around the castle so now was as good a time as any other.

His perfectly normal walk was not off to a great start, however, as he heard the voice of the last he wanted to see right now.

"Attacking kids now, Scarhead? I admit, even I didn't think you'd swoop this low. Then again, you've always been the cowardly sorts."

Malfoy, looking like the ever arrogant pile of disdain and hair products he was, was surrounded by his usual cohort of housemates. And by the way they looked at him, they seemed to find his situation to be the funniest thing since Umbridge's take over.

"How the mighty have fallen. Everyone's finally realised none of that Boy-Who-Lived crap made up for the pathetic failure you are?"

"Sod off, Malfoy." Ron snapped.

"I heard you didn't even bother going to the tryouts Potter. Did you expect your fame to get you the position like it before? Or perhaps you don't want everyone to see you fail at the only thing you still have going for you?"

That got another laugh from the Slytherins, followed a few seconds later by Goyle's. The burly boy seemed more focused on staring at Harry than listening to his master's taunts.

"I just have other stuff to do, Malfoy. Maybe this year you'll actually have a chance to win a match? Or do you need your dad to buy that for you too?"

All traces of his smile faded, replaced by a grimace of anger and disgust as his pale hand hovered dangerously close to his wand. In the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron mirror his movement. When he spoke next, Draco's voice was low and cold.

"You should be careful with your words, Potter. You never know what could happen these days. And your precious Dumbledore won't always be around to protect you. It shouldn't be long before you get what you deserve and finally join your parents."

Harry held his stare for a short time before Draco turned and left, quickly followed by his friends. His glare remained on him, even after the green trimmed robes disappeared around the corner.

"What an arse."

"That's one reason I'm glad we can spend time you know where, and not in the castle. He's been even more insufferable than ever lately. I've heard they've been prancing around the castle, terrorizing the younger years."

"Give him one little shiny badge and he goes mad with power. I bet he can't wait to get out there to start killing left and right."

While Ron and Seamus talked, Harry's gaze remained lost and a sombre mood marred his face. He remained silent until Ron stepped close and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You alright mate?"

"Yeah... Let's just go."

He still had to explain to McGonagall why he didn't have the time to play in the house team anymore... Or at least give a decent enough lie.