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Crossing borders	By : Mykerinos Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 1146 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter nor Pirates of the Caribbean are mine.

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Crossing Borders

by Mykerinos

"No, no, NO!" Gilderoy Lockhart exclaimed loudly, shaking his head and only barely being able to
restrain himself as he clutched his wand tightly. "You said you had some great magical adventure and all I get is a
story about a pirate and stolen treasure?! Don't tell me I travelled through time and space for a simple
curse." He stared at the other man in exasperation.

That other man just stared back at him, trying to hide his confusion. "You're not savvy enough, boy. It was a real
curse and not jus' one, it turned us into skeletons! It was the most magical thing I've ever experienced in me entire
life!"

Gilderoy wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. It was his first time visiting the Caribbeans and it would
definitely be his last. He really wasn't one for all that heat and stuff, he preferred solariums to get his tan
from. The sun was burning on his face and making him melt under his bright yellow robes. The fact that he was on a
ship didn't make the situation much more bearable. He stared at the idiot in front of him and realized his mistake.
In fact, he had realized it the moment he had seen the man, but it was proven by his last statement. He was just a darn
Muggle. He had done all that thorough studying and endless weeks of practicing and learning to meet a Muggle.

He jumped up, fed up with it. "Alright, thank you very much for nothing. I hope you have a terrible day and bye now."
He managed to flash a charming smile at the other. Walking aside, the blue waves splattering down beside him, he
grabbed his wand and pulled a handkerchief out of his robes. Concentrating, he whispered the words he had studied for
so long now as the handkerchief fluttered in the wind.

Right then, one of the other pirates shouted, "Avast!" and with the swishing sound of ropes loosening, the sails
turned, blowed around by the forceful wind and swung right into the direction of the blonde wizard. Gilderoy distinctly
noticed a dark shadow growing bigger and bigger around him and he looked up. The sails hit him right in the face and with
a foul cracking of some bone or the other, he was thrown overboard and even before he had hit the surface, everything
had gone black for him.

When Gilderoy woke again, he wished he hadn't. His head felt like someone had tried to squish the size of the entire world
into it and the bright sun didn't do much to improve that impression. He squinted, sensing there was something off
with his vision. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but as he moved his head he felt a sharp
pain and realized that his eyes were alright: it was his nose that was the problem. It was kind of crooked,
so he guessed he must've had quite a blow. He closed his eyes in pain, wanting nothing more than to go back
to the darkness of his unconsciousness.

"Yer alright, boy?"

Gilderoy opened his eyes again and saw the dark and worn face of Jack Sparrow hovering in front of him.
It was only then that he recalled who he was, where he was and, more shockingly, when he was. His eyes
growing big, he quickly searched his pockets for his wand -- it wasn't there. Looking up at Sparrow, a feverish look
in his eyes, he grabbed the man's shoulder. "Did you find my wand?" he asked.

Sparrow frowned. "I don't know what yer talking 'bout, mate." he said. "But whatever belongings you had are probably
lost to Davy Jones' Locker," He gave a nod at the reeling.

Gilderoy's heart missed a beat. He crawled over to the side of the ship and pulled himself up to look at the wide, endless
blue ocean. If he had lost it there, there was no way he was ever going to retrieve it again. And if he had lost his wand,
really lost his wand, then there was no way he was ever going to get back to his own time and space. Suddenly his
head ache seemed to get even a thousand times worse and he collapsed back onto the deck, rubbing his temples and
clenching his teeth.

"Take this, ye'll feel better." A bottle was brought to the wizard's lips and he felt a strong alcoholic liquid being
poured down his throat. It was the most vile drink he had ever tasted, and as it burned the inside of his mouth he choked
loudly, only aggravating the pain in his head.

"What on Merlin's world is this poison?" he cried out, searching the bottle for a label and finding none.

"Rum!" The pirate gave an enthusiastic smile and his golden teeth flashed in the sun. "It only works if yer
gulp down the rest of it too," he added with a wink.

Gilderoy blinked a few times at the other man, then glanced once more at the bottle before carefully taking
another sip. It still tasted awful, but it would have to do. Sparrow looked down on him with a content smile.

After Gilderoy was brought to a room with a bed, he got up from it as little as possible. The room he'd been given
wasn't exactly large or luxurious -- in fact, it was quite awful, but he was assured that it was tons better than the
place the crew was sleeping in. Only the Captain's cabin was nicer and cleaner than this room, that was prepared for
guests.

But even if Gilderoy had slept in a room nastier than the crew's, he wouldn't have cared less. His head aches had not
gotten better even the tiniest bit and the wizard wasn't sure if this had just a physical or a more psychological cause.
All he knew was that thinking was too much to ask and his head and memories and thoughts were all just a blur.

Sparrow checked up on him a few times a day, to bring him food and clean water. He tried to talk to him, but Gilderoy
wasn't very chatty.

It was on one of those days that Sparrow got fed up with it.

"Seriously now, boy, why don't yer just come outside? Enjoy the sun, get a tan, ye know?" he cried out, walking over
to the bed and starting to poke the blonde in an attempt to get him moving.

"I'm feeling sick, alright?!" Gilderoy uttered, his voice indeed very weak. He twitched. "Stop poking me!"

Sparrow gave a sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Look. Ye can sit here all day by ye onesies and
feel sick, or you can come outside, breathe in the fresh sea air and let me teach ye all about the life on this
ship. How 'bout that, eh?" he said, glancing over his shoulder. But the covered lump that was Gilderoy did not
reply.

Sparrow jumped up and slammed his hand into the wall, making Gilderoy turn around in shock. "Enough of your
self-pity!" the pirate bellowed, his raw voice cracking through the room like thunder. The expression on
his face was darker than Gilderoy had ever seen, and as he approached him, he had to resist the urge to
hide under the blanket. "Listen to me, boy, an' listen well! Ye are aboard MY ship and everyone on here
will abide as I say! If I tell anyone here to weigh the anchor, they weigh the anchor! If me tells 'm to
attack some bloody ship and kill them all, they will attack the ship and leave no survivors! If I order 'm
to walk the plank, they walk the plank!" He stood next to the bed now and darkly looked down at Gilderoy.
"As long as you are on this ship, you behave like a crew member and not like some pussy! If I tell ye to get
yer arse out on the deck, you will. bloody. move! "

Gilderoy glared at him, still not moving. He was impressed, but also determined not to show it. Sparrow
looked down on him for a moment and then turned and left. It was only then that Gilderoy regained his sense
of dignity. "How dare you!" he cried at the shut door. "I am Gilderoy Lockhart, and I will not let
myself be ordered around by some ordinary pirate such as yourself! If anything, you should take orders from me!
Yes!" he concluded, lying down again and turning on his side, feeling a little unsure of whether he had won
or lost.

That night his food was brought in by one of the crew mates, not Sparrow, and as he chewed on the limb of
a small bird, he couldn't help but think things over. Maybe Sparrow was right. He was one of the members of
this ship now, whether he wanted to or not. So the least he could do was show himself and see if there was
any way he could contribute, in exchange for the food and lodging he got, no matter how crappy it was.

And so he went outside the next morning, for the first time in a week facing the sun as it started to rise,
the warm, salted breeze, and the simmering ocean. It was so early that only a few men were up yet and after
a short walk around the deck he was just about to ask one of them if he could be of any help when he spotted
the captain himself at the helm. One hand held in the air as he looked at his compass, he was humming a tune.
Gilderoy collected a breath before walking into view.

"I'm at your service, sir," he said softly, proudly looking the other man into the eyes.

Sparrow stared at him, snapped the compass shut and slid it into his pocket. Then he gave a grin. "Welcome
aboard the Black Pearl, boy," he said, holding out his hand as if they were meeting for the first time.

Gilderoy took the hand and was immediately pulled in front of the steering wheel as Sparrow stepped aside.
The blonde had expected to start off with the nasty practices on the ship, like cleaning and killing rats,
and then maybe later climbing the masts and then after a few months learn to steer, but here he was, knowing
nothing of ships or oceans and already in charge of the direction they would be taking. Well, if it wasn't
for the man behind him anyway.

The steering itself wasn't that difficult, and he was sure that he could've brought them anywhere, except that
he was not the man with the compass. The man who was the man with the compass had pulled up a chair next
to him, closing his eyes and sipping a bottle of rum, looking perfectly at ease. Every now and then he would
call out vague directions which Gilderoy would then follow but at some point the wizard was almost sure that
Sparrow had fallen asleep. Not that he had any trouble going on his own, the only obstacle one in the form
of ruins of a ship, which he smoothly went around. It was amazing how carefree he felt here, at the helm of
this ship. Not only did he feel better than he had felt the past few days, but even better than that he could
ever remember.

Halfway during the day Sparrow got another crew member to take over so that he could teach Gilderoy about the
other things on the ship: the sails, the rowing, the weapons, in case a ship came by that they could plunder,
and the kitchen. In the weeks that followed, Gilderoy's main job was to help out in the latter. He had never
been one for all the rough work, and rough work it was on this ship, he discovered that soon enough. But
cooking, that was something that required delicacy and peace, and Gilderoy was perfect for that.

The chef de cuisine was a cook in the most marginal meaning of the word. He was one of the largest men on the
ship, with a bald head and a scary appearance. He made raw meat and vegetables and
rice, or whatever it was they happened to have, into something edible, and that was it. He was not concerned
with taste or hygene, and this was where Gilderoy came in. He made sure the kitchen was clean and experimented
with spices, of which there were plenty, though none of them appeared to have been used very often.

It was a success from day one. The crew had never before tasted anything like this -- not aboard this ship,
but also not back when they were young scallywags and they had to fight for food in their poor families.
They had gotten so used to the vile and bleak taste of the rest of their lives, that they were completely
dumb-struck when they took the first bites. Gilderoy watched contently as the crew loudly applauded the cook,
who bowed in return. He was surprised to find that he did not feel the least bit of spite as the large man
got all the credit. He was used to doing exactly the opposite: taking stories of naive adventurers and
making them his own. Somehow it felt good to stand on the other side for once, going completely unnoticed.

His eyes met with those of Sparrow, who was the only person looking at him. There was something of surprise
in those eyes, but also admiration and it added even more to the joy Gilderoy felt.

Later, when everyone was for the first time in their lives really satiated and they left the dining hall
with a good feeling, Sparrow slapped the blonde on his back. "Good job, boy," he said and smiled.

Gilderoy grinned back. He felt good too, but not because of the food. He had finally done something not
for himself, but for others, and if somebody had told him last month how absolutely wonderful that made you
feel, he would not have believed it. Maybe being on this ship wasn't even so bad.

That night he slept well for the first time he was in the Caribbeans.

Days went by quite uneventfully. Gilderoy spent most of his time either in the kitchen or talking to Sparrow.
The man was quite a type, he had to admit. Although he might seem completely crazy upon first glance, he was
actually quite intelligent and managed to surprise Gilderoy on occasion after occasion with his knowledge
about the most diverse subjects. The blonde man couldn't help but look up to him and respect him for his
strange wisdoms and optimistic nature.

It was possibly also because of this respect that Gilderoy's happiest moments were those in which he got
the Captain's approval. This would occasionally happen as he learned his way with the ship more and more,
but the best results were made in the kitchen. Gilderoy didn't mind that the cook's ego grew bigger and
bigger without ever letting anyone know the real cause of his improved cooking, as long as Sparrow let him
know that he knew who really was the one to thank. The mere glance in his direction at the dinner table as
everybody else cheered and complimented the cook meant more to him than all the appreciation of the rest
of the crew, and it always made his stomach flutter.

Just when Gilderoy thought that he would be perfectly fine with living like this for quite some time, the
ship got attacked.

It happened on a bright and calm morning. One moment there came a shout from the crow's nest that a ship
of the Royal Navy was closing in on them, and the other there were excited shouts from everybody and they were
rushing over the deck from one side to the other in order to prepare things. Gilderoy, who had been talking
with Sparrow about Italian wines and women, felt panic creep up his spine as he watched the ship in all its chaos.
Would this be the end of it? Would they be strong enough? What if they captured everyone and he was accused of
piracy? He had never done anyone wrong -- well, if you excluded all those people he'd ripped off and all the
lies he'd been telling for most of his life, but that was of no importance to them.

"Boy, take cover!" Sparrow bellowed as he rushed by, pulling on a thick piece of rope. He looked so menacing
and fierce at that moment -- perhaps for the first time like a true pirate, Gilderoy thought -- that he
immediately did as the man said.

Gilderoy fled to his room, even though part of him wanted to stay and watch the fight. This feeling became
stronger and stronger as he lied there, alone, the dull sounds of footsteps and shouting above his head.
He wanted to know what was going on there, but all he could do was speculate -- had they won?
Had the battle even begun yet? Or were those perhaps already enemy footsteps he heard? He waited for what
seemed like ages, lying in his bed and staring at the creaking ceiling.

There was a bang so loud that Gilderoy shot straight up, his heart thumping in his throat. The ship
shook from it and he panicked -- had they been hit? If they had, he had to get away from here as soon as
possible. If they were sinking, he had to get out of this room or he would go down with the ship. He jumped
up and ran outside, where the sounds of battle cries and bellowing of orders had increased even more. His
heart sank to his knees as a huge ship loomed over him.

It was prettier and more clean and organised than the Black Pearl had possibly ever been and Gilderoy knew
within in instant that this old, rotten ship didn't really
stand a chance. The members of the Royal Navy looked so confident and professional as they were firing their
guns that the memory of his own crew trying to shoot at pans and bags and only nearly missing the boy from
the crow's nest seemed terrifying, even though at that time he had doubled over with laughter.

His eyes searched the deck for Captain Jack Sparrow and he found him at the top of the ship, standing
fierce and shouting his orders. When he cried "FIRE!", another huge bang sounded and as Gilderoy was almost
knocked off his feet, he realized with relief that they were the ones shooting canons. He watched
with surprise how the pirates somehow managed to get onto the other ship, where they started sword battles
with the surprised enemy.

Completely in awe, as if he was watching an exciting movie in the theater, Gilderoy moved closer to the railing,
not wanting to miss anything. He was so absorbed in the happenings in front of him that he did not even notice a
Royal Navy guard manouvering himself behind him onto the pirate ship. And when the man silently heaved his sword
to attack the unarmed blonde, Gilderoy still hardly noticed how Sparrow leaped in front of him, paraded the stab and
battled the man into the blue water. In fact, it was only until the pirate cried, "Grabbs!" to a big man on the other
side of the ship, that he realized that he was not merely a spectator -- he was right in the middle of this
battle scene.

"Lock 'im up!" Sparrows bellowed.

Before Gilderoy could even protest, he was being thrown over the big man's shoulder. As much as he slapped the man's
back, he only let him go when they were downstairs, to throw him into the cell. "Oi!" he cried, rattling the bars.
"This is ridiculous! Let me go!" But the man ignored him and ran back up again.

Gilderoy screamed for a while, but eventually gave up -- even if somebody heard him over the loud sounds of the
battle, he doubted they would release him. Instead of wasting his lungs, he sat down on the nasty ground
and listened.

The battle carried on for a while longer still and Gilderoy feared it would never end and that he would be
stuck here forever. But at some point everything got more quiet -- then there was some loud cheering and
the blonde guessed that the other party had surrendered, leaving them to be the victorious ones.

Good, they'll soon come to free me now, Gilderoy thought to himself. The cell was cold and filthy and the rats
were shameless -- they kept trying to nibble on his clothes, no matter how often he slapped them away. He
wanted to get out of there, but apparently
nobody cared about him anymore. When after a good amount of time still no one had come, he stood up and
began to make as much noise as he could. But the noises of battle had made way for noises of feasting --
it sounded like they were having a really nice party out there.

When his voice and body were both exhausted from the yelling and slamming on the walls, Gilderoy sank back on to
the floor. Bastards. Was he nothing more than a rat, then? Did he deserve this inhuman treatment? Locked up
like a worthless criminal, while everybody else was having the time of their life? This was all Sparrow's
doing. If he got out of here, he'd get him. This was no way Gilderoy Lockhart was to be treated.

Finally he heard someone come down the stairs. When he saw that it was Sparrow himself, a tad intoxicated
already, his joy at his pleas finally being heard quickly made way for anger.

"You bastard!" he shouted. "Keeping me locked up in here for hours! Do you have any idea--"

"I told you," the pirate cut him off, sounding surprisingly moody. "ter take cover. You
endangered not only yourselves, but also me and me crew. There ain't no time to save lasses in distress," he
said. His speech was slurred, but that did not make him less intimidating. He opened the door and looked at
the other man with a dark look in his eyes. "I told you earlier that yer not to disobey me orders. Consider
this a punishment."

"A punishment!" Gilderoy cried out indignantly. "If this was a punishment, I think it was quite a disproportionate
one, considering the smallness of the deed!"

"Small deed says you, suicide says I," said Sparrow, the anger in his eyes suddenly making way for sparkles of
malicious glee. "But let 's dwell not o'r past happenin's anymore, boy, the rum is awaiting our return," He
walked towards the staircases, wiggling his hands as he moved and beginning to hum a cheerful tune.

But Gilderoy was not done yet, not even if the frickin' Queen had been waiting for him. Maybe he could not
win with the offence-punishment discussion, but he still had things bottled up inside of him.

"Seriously!" he cried. "Would you stop calling me 'boy'? We're about the same age, really!" He scowled. It
wasn't really something that had bugged him before, but right now it just felt like he was belittling him,
diminishing the worth of his arguments, the worth of his own being.

Sparrow turned back again, looking as gracious as a ballerina as he spun on the tip of one foot. He calmly
walked back over to the wizard, carefully pricking his finger in the man's chest. "Age's got
nothing to do with it." he said, his alcohol-stained breath blowing softly over Gilderoy's face.

He didn't back away, despite the small distance, but glared at the man, hoping he was a bit intimidating even though
he didn't feel very much so. "Oh, really?" he replied, making sure to keep a disdainful expression on his
face. "Then what is it about?"

The pirate stared at the man's blonde hair. "You look like a boy, you smell like a boy," He sniffed a bit.
"You probably taste like a boy, too." He suddenly grinned a lopsided grin, showing off his golden teeth.

Gilderoy raised his eyebrows, thinking Sparrow was way too presumtuous. "You don't know for one bit--"

And just when he was about to tell him that Sparrow didn't know whatsoever what he tasted like and would never know, just
when he was about to get angry, the man kissed him.

And not just a peck, either. Since Gilderoy's mouth had been busy speaking, it didn't take Sparrow long to slip his tongue
into his mouth and start a wrestling game that Gilderoy knew he couldn't win. But it was not at all an unpleasant loss, a
loss which he was willing to suffer. Sparrow's tickling moustache made him feel like it was his first kiss all over again
and he couldn't break the kiss even if he had wanted to.

When it ended, Sparrow grinned smugly at the wizard with a look that made Gilderoy feel uncomfortable.

"Tastes exactly like a boy, me thinks." he grinned, as if he had just won a game.

It took Gilderoy one second to push the pirate off and just a couple more to storm off. If the weather hadn't been so
darn hot and he had worn his robes, they would've bellowed behind him. Alas, they didn't and Sparrow gave a shrug. A
bad loser. Returning to the tune he'd started before, he walked up the stairs. "Comin', my luv!" he cried.

How dare he. How dare he! Bloody Muggle, thinking he was so much better, so much more experienced than he was. He
was Gilderoy Lockhart, star of the wizarding world! Every single wizard looked up to him, he had every female wizard
lying at his feet! And now this Muggle, this... this, pirate was calling him 'boy' and kissing him to throw him off
guard. Yes, a pirate indeed, a disrespectful, treacherous, low pirate, scum of the earth. If he had had his wand, he
would've cursed him off the planet!

Yes, if he only had his wand.

Gilderoy had retreated to the back of the ship. He could still hear the loud noises of the feasting crew, but
at least they could not see him and would leave him alone.
As he turned his eyes to the sea, he felt an immense feeling of helplessness come over him. For the first time
he fully realized the situation he was in. There was no hope for him to return to his own world ever again. Hell,
there was probably even no longer hope for him to do magic again, to be a wizard. If this was to be his world, what
a miserable figure he was! Last month he had still been the famous Gilderoy Lockhart and now he was just a tramp,
with no status, no money and no acquaintances.

Sparrow had been right. In this world, he was just a boy, an inexperienced child with nothing but good looks.
Well, and a slightly crooked nose.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair. Sparrow had kissed him and it had surprised him. Not the fact that Sparrow was
an insane bastard, but the fact that it hadn't even been half bad. How had that happened? Had he, along with his world
and his status, also lost the rest of his personality? Was this just another effect of the transition? Oh, it would be
complete heaven for the tabloids alright... except there were no tabloids. No one here gave a fuck what he did or with
whom he did it. He had already been completely degraded in his worth, so there was nothing left to ruin anyway.

Yes, he was angry. He had pushed Sparrow away, furious as he had been, not because he had called him a boy, but because
he had been right. Because he was forcing him to see something he had refused to see until now; that he was no longer
the winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award, that he was merely Gilderoy Lockhart, an unknown being.

Suddenly the familiar sounds that denounced Sparrow's approachal startled him from his depressing thoughts: the clanking
of his boots on the wood, the metallic noise of the rings around his fingers. Gilderoy turned around, suddenly feeling
smaller than he ever had done. There was a dreadful feeling of helplessness upon him and Sparrow's presence only made
it worse.

"Yer okay?" Sparrow asked, looking genuinely concerned.

Gilderoy's chest was aching and he didn't know from what. Crossing the little distance between them, he pressed his lips
against the pirate's, wanting more than anything to be close to him now and forget all his miserable thoughts. This time
Gilderoy was the agressor and it was a weird position to be in. The man's mouth was wet and tasted of alcohol, and for a
moment he felt safe, secure. He never wanted to break away again, but Sparrow suddenly grabbed both sides of his head and
forced him to look at him. Surprised, the blonde found that his vision was blurred and he realized that tears were
streaming down his face: soundless tears trickling their way down his nose, cheek and chin.

He turned away from the man, embarrassed that he could see him cry. He quickly tried to dry his face, but was unable to stop
the tears from coming. Before he knew it, he was sobbing uncontrollably, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oi..." he heard Sparrow say behind him, then felt how he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Ye want some rum? Always good
if yer feeling down, mate." He raised an eyebrow and looked at the bottle that was suddenly in his hand. "Or for any
other occasion, 'fcourse."

Gilderoy grabbed the bottle of rum, still sobbing, and slid down against the railing, taking a large gulp he knew he'd
regret. His expectations turned out to be true: it felt like the liquid literally burned down his throat.
As he coughed and spat, Sparrow sat down next to him. Taking over the bottle and swallowing down at least as big
a gulp as Gilderoy had done, he eyed the blonde and for a moment there was such sadness in his eyes that it startled
Gilderoy. But before he could ask or even make sure he had seen it at all, it was gone. He brought the bottle to
his lips a second time and only coughed for a few seconds. After the fourth large gulp, he no longer coughed at all.
After the fifth, his tears stopped flowing.

After the sixth, he passed out.

When he woke up the next morning, his head felt like someone had tried to stuff the size of not only the entire world
but also numerous other planets into it. He opened his eyes to find himself located comfortably in a bed he didn't
know in a room he didn't know either. He blinked a few times and finally saw the first familiar thing -- Sparrow's face.

"What--?" Gilderoy started, but his voice was too damaged to let him finish his sentence.

Sparrow, sitting on a chair and looking way too fit in Gilderoy's eyes, swirled his hand in mid-air. "Ye passed out. I
figured yer deserved some good nite's rest. Breakfast?" He held up a bunch of bananas, at which the blonde quickly
shook his head and diverted his eyes. The mere thought of consuming food now made him feel sick.

He laid back down on the bed and turned his head to look at the pirate. He felt awkward, he felt embarrassed, he
felt strange -- but Sparrow appeared to be free of all these feelings. He peeled off the banana and contently nibbled
on it.

Mentioning last night would probably just add to the awkwardness, so Gilderoy kept quiet and turned his head to
stare at the ceiling.

The awkwardness didn't fade. Even when he'd managed to stand on his own feet again without having to throw up, even after
he had long since left Sparrow's room, his stomach still felt heavy with strange feelings.

From then on he spent nearly all of his time in the kitchen, making the most delicious meals, or in his cabin,
trying to practice wandless magic by willing small objects to move. These were the only things that kept him
sane -- even though he sometimes felt the latter drove him mad at the same time.
He made a point of avoiding both the crew and Sparrow -- the crew because they didn't like him much for contributing
nothing while they were working their asses off (how little did they know), and Sparrow for reasons
he couldn't explain very well himself.

A week after he'd last seen anyone but the cook, he went for a midnight stroll. He was right -- his endless
attempts at magic were driving him mad. If anyone would ever see him do it, they'd say the same. A few
more weeks and he'd be
convinced he'd become a Muggle. A few more months and he'd be convinced there'd never been a wizarding world at all.
He stared at the endless blackness of the sea. Was he going mad, or had he perhaps been mad all along? Not that it
made any difference.

"I haven't seen yer in a while. Thought ye were sick or somethin'."

Gilderoy held a gasp, then looked around. A lopsided grin played on the pirate's face, and he stood close enough for the
blonde to see the drunk twinkle in his eyes. "Yeah," he quickly said. "Yeah, I was."

"Well, guess what! So was I!" he threw his arms up into the air as if that was something that needed celebration.

"You're drunk," Gilderoy stated as he smelled the man's alcohol-stained breath.

Sparrow slipped an arm around his waist and grinned again. "Not any more than usual, boy," he said, and Gilderoy
realized that he was right. Sparrow was pretty much always drunk -- it was quite fascinating really. He probably
wouldn't live to be very old, but then again, what pirate did?

"Er," Gilderoy tried, once again feeling awkward, but tense also. He tried his best not to look at Sparrow, which was quite
a difficult thing when he was so close, he learned.

Sparrow, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself. His grin never fading, he kissed the other man -- softly,
surprisingly enough. Gilderoy, feeling weird for reasons he could not tell while at the same time being plagued by an
immense longing, barely responded.

"Hm," Sparrow grumbled when he pulled back, unsatisfied with Gilderoy's lack of participation. "T'is about time ye
loosen up a bit, w'dya?" Grabbing his hand, he pulled him with him, to the other side of the ship, into his cabin. It
had been dark outside, with the weak moonlight as the only source of light, but inside it was even darker.

"How about a cand-" Gilderoy began to suggest, but was stopped by Sparrow's lips on his, Sparrow's hands on his back,
Sparrow's body guiding him through the room. When his legs hit something hard, he tripped, but landed softly on the
bed he'd already found himself in the other day. The pirate climbed up there too, his hands now fumbling with Gilderoy's
robes as he trailed wet, controlled kisses down his neck. His garments were off remarkably fast and the blonde
gasped as Sparrow teased his nipples with soft bites.

He was quickly moving lower and Gilderoy could feel the tension build up inside him. Feeling Sparrow swiftly pull
down his underpants, he clutched the bedside as the other softly stroked his hardened member, watching the blonde's reaction
with a satisfied grin. Then he bowed his head to take it in his mouth and Gilderoy whimpered, for a moment thinking
he'd go insane. Letting his tongue do the work, Sparrow strongly held down the other's hips which were desperately
pushing up.

Gilderoy could feel it coming and although he had tried to keep it down, a scream escaped his lips anyway as he released.
He panted and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his eyes closed as he savoured the moment. He felt Sparrow
climb up beside him and lick his cheek. "How d'ye like that, eh?" he purred in his ear and Gilderoy smiled. Opening
his eyes, he sat up too. His breathing was still ragged and he stared at the other man's form. Even in the darkness, he
could see his eyes sparkle and he hoped Sparrow could see his do the same, too.

He took off the different layers of clothing, until the pirate was just as naked as he was. Then he turned to lay
flat on his stomach and, looking over his shoulder, he whispered, "Please,"

He could hear Sparrow chuckle and then leave the bed. "Jus' a moment," he said and then there were the sounds of him
rummaging through a drawer. He lit a candle and looked into the drawer again. Gilderoy glanced at the naked man and
felt himself warm inside again. Sparrow pulled out a small pot, blew out the candle and returned to the bed. Gilderoy
waited patiently, and let out a soft gasp when two fingers smeared some substance on his hole. Then a finger slid in
and he gasped again. It was a terribly strange sensation, one of which he didn't know whether it was good or bad. The
finger turned and twisted around and before Gilderoy knew what was happening there was a second one in. Okay, it was
certainly a bad thing now, and it only got worse when after another minute or so another one was added. The blonde
gritted his teeth and pushed his head far into the pillow, not wanting to let the other man know how much it was
hurting him. It was only fair.

Sparrow kissed the back of his neck softly, his fingers still in place. "If ye want ter stop, that's fine," he said,
his voice a little hoarse.

Gilderoy lifted his head from the pillow, glad that the other could not see the tears in his eyes. "No, no, please,
I'm alright," he said and quickly stuffed his face back into the pillow.

At this, Sparrow plunged a fourth finger into his arse and twisted them around, widening the opening. Gilderoy tried
to keep his breath steady, but failed. And then they were gone. His muscles still twitching painfully, the blonde
sighed with relieve. "What..?" he wanted to ask, turning his face aside, but before he could finish or receive an
answer, the feeling returned again, but he knew that this time it wasn't caused by any fingers. Holding onto the side
of the other man's body, Sparrow thrust himself in and further into Gilderoy, who lay there gaping with his mouth
open, enjoying the clashing of the man's body against his own, his hands sliding up and down his sides.

Sparrow came with a loud and stretched out grunt and let himself fall down with his full weight onto the other man's back.
Catching his breath, he then rolled off of him and gave a sigh. Gilderoy rolled onto his back as well and stared up at
the ceiling, faintly aware of the sticky liquid between his legs.

His mind felt deliciously empty. All he knew was that he hadn't minded this so much, at all. Before another
thought could disturb his placidness, he fell asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, Sparrow was not there. He stretched out and blinked a few times. Somehow, everything
seemed a lot brighter than it had before. This life wasn't so bad, he realized. In fact, he was perhaps even better off
than he'd been in the wizarding world! ... okay, he didn't enjoy any fame here, nor was he little more than a disabled
without his wand, but at least he had someone who was willing to teach him the perks of his new life. At least he had
someone who made him feel better than anyone ever had, wizard or not. At least he didn't have to play the pretty,
adventurous author of Bashing Basilisks. Here, he could just be Gilderoy. A boy.

"Yo ho ho!" Sparrow grinned at Gilderoy as he walked into the room with what a large bowl of fruit. He walked over to
the bed and held the bowl out to him, the sunlight painting him in bright colours.

Gilderoy couldn't suppress a grin either -- perhaps it was not Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile, but it was
definitely the biggest and most genuine one he'd given in a long time. Without a second thought, he grabbed a
banana and then raised an eye brow at the pirate, feeling happier than ever.

"...and a bottle of rum," he said.
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Crossing borders