Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Pirate's Tail	By : SamHill Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3181 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Not in any lifetime does Harry Potter (and his universe) belong to me. They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, et al. I make no money and I mean not copyright infringement.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: See Chapter One for all disclaimers and warnings

Chapter Sixteen:

“He’s in a bad way. If we’re aimin’ to free ‘im, it best be soon,” Tonks whispered to her companion.

“We make our move in one week’s time. We will have to pray that he can wait for us.” Mad-Eye Moody gulped down the last of his ale and glared around the pub. He didn’t bat an eye when Ron and a heavily disguised Cedric slid into the booth across them.

“Yer Highness, is it safe to be out in public like this? The king has eyes and ears on everyone.”

“Hence the disguise, my friend,” Cedric replied. “And please, none of that. Not only am I not Prince or King yet, you’re a friend.”

Charlie Weasley squeezed in as well. “Aye, but it’s only a matter of time, and I bring good news. The recruits are ready.” He smiled grimly at his comrades. “In two day’s time we ride and take back the throne for England, never mind a week.”

Ron smirked. “I have even better news. Your recruits bring our numbers close to two hundred. Viktor Krum is bringing with him another one hundred and fifty fully trained fighters. This war has already been won, my friends.”

Moody whistled long and low while Charlie smiled broadly at his little brother. Cedric looked massively relieved and Ron wondered just how much weight those shoulders bore. Before his capture, Harry had carried the hopes of all of them with him, never once complaining. Now he was in the hands of their greatest enemy and Cedric was stepping forward to fill those shoes. ‘Doing a pretty good job, all things considered,’ Ron thought as he tossed back the last of the ale in his tankard.

“Well, boys, what other news have we?”

“Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private?” Cedric stood first and held out one arm. Padma Patel stepped out of the crowd to take it and allowed herself to be led across the room and towards the stairs. There were some hoots but the duo ignored them in favor of making their escape.

Moody stomped his way up to the bar to pay then headed out into the late evening rain. Barely more than a fine mist, it was nonetheless a nuisance and Ron could practically hear the older man’s grumblings. He exchanged a look with his brother and Tonks and wondered what to do. As if on cue, Hermione opened the pub door, angry eyes searching the crowd.

“Ronald Weasley! Where have you been? All day I spend cooking, preparing a fine meal for you and your family and where are you? In a pub!”

Ducking his head, Ron headed her off at the bar and tugged her out into the rain, their voices trailing back for the few nearest the door to hear. “Please, love, I was only catching up with my brother. You need to stay calm, for the baby.”

“A fine thing to say now!” she replied shrilly. The door thudded shut behind Charlie and Tonks who had joined them and she let out a breath. “Good. The girls and I have been gathering folks all night. You were the last because we knew who you were sharing company with. Come on, we’ve got to get back to the Burrow.”

They stepped up to the carriage and Ron nearly fell back out when he saw Moody sitting in the dark. “Bloody hell, that’s certainly a way to sneak up on folks.”

“An’ here I thought I was included in this party.” Moody snorted and shoved Ron back to lend his wife a hand up. “Ye forget yer manners, boy. She’s carryin’ yer babe.”

They sat in silence as they waited for Cedric and Padma to join them, then Dean, their driver for the evening, called out to the horses and set them at a quick pace. No one spoke as they rode down the street, everyone’s minds on their friend and the battle they planned to wage in two day’s time.

~ * ~

Snape drew his black robes tightly around him as he ducked further into the shadows of the courtyard. The rain had caused Voldemort to change his plans and Harry had been removed to the dungeons that night. A dead man was a man passed suffering and the king was not of the merciful breed. Without knowing exactly which cell the young man was in, though, Snape had no way of knowing where to enter.

Years – foolish years – had been spent as one of Voldemort’s most highly prized physicians until the death of the one woman he had loved; Lily Evans-Potter’s death had crushed him. Now he would save her son if it was the last thing he did. Thankful that he had packed his bag so carefully, he crept forward a few more feet and froze. A rustling in the bushes had him pulling out a rather unimpressive stick. Any who felt the prick of it against their skin would know otherwise, for it had been dipped in the venom collected from several cobras. It would kill in only moments, making it his preferred weapon. Harry had called it a magic wand once, much to Snape’s horror.

He let out a breath of relief and tucked the strip of ebony wood back into its sheath when a small form edged forward. Crouching down low, he glared at the child. “You, what is your name and what are you doing here?”

“Mama, mama!” the little girl cried, her dirty face tear streaked. She spoke again, this time in the harsh tones of German.

“I don’t understand you, you impossible brat. Quit your sniveling this instant and get control of yourself.”

“Papa, mama. Mama’s head, where did it go?” Her broken English made him think he had misheard but when he asked her to repeat, speaking slowly and concisely, she only said the same thing.

“So, you are the child from this morning then,” he sighed. “I suppose I should have recognized that dirty frock. Well, come along child. Let’s get you somewhere safe. I shall have to wait until morning to check on Harry and hope that his wounds do not kill him in the night.” He made to snatch up her hand but she ducked out of the way, scurrying back into the bushes.

“Pirate,” she said with her thick German accent.

“Pirate?” He leaned forward, obsidian gaze piercing the darkness. “You know of the pirate?”

“Pirate.” She pointed towards a small window that was lower than the ground they stood on. “Pirate.”

“The pirate is there?” Snape inched closer until he was able to peer through the window, but lack of light made it impossible to see who was inside. Taking a chance, he called out, “Potter?”

Silence reigned for the span of several heartbeats and then a low groan was heard. “Please tell me that dulcet tone I hear is that of one Severus Snape and not just my imagination,” Harry replied conversationally, though his voice seemed a bit strained.

Snape scowled at the little girl beside him. “His situation is far less dire than I was led to believe if he is still able to speak thusly,” Snape drawled. Dropping to his knees, he opened his satchel and began pulling out vials. “Explain to me your physical dilemmas and we shall see which ailments are more easily fixed.”

“Everything hurts.” This was said in a pained whisper and the sound of chains clinking together filled the night air, causing Snape to flinch.

“Come closer to the window, idiot, or I cannot see you.”

“Can’t.” All traces of humor were gone from Harry’s voice.

Snape judged the size of the window against his own lean frame and knew he would never fit. His eyes slid down to his small companion and though he was loathe to use a child for anything, knew she would be the only one who could squeeze through the opening. He beckoned to her. “You, girl, I need you to go down there and look at him.” He paused, suddenly wondering what to do once she was down there. The child spoke little English and was quite young.

“Who are you talking to?” Harry inquired.

“The little girl who nearly lost her life at the tyrant’s whim is with me. It is she with whom I was attempting to converse.”

“She speaks German.”

“I am well aware of what language she speaks, Potter. However, as I do not, my ability to communicate with her is greatly limited.”

“I do. Speak German, I mean.” He waited for response and receiving none, assumed he had shocked the older man into silence. “Send her down and I’ll speak with her.” There was a low grunt as the young man shifted positions and Snape felt a moment’s irritation.

“Do not roll around on the floor, Potter. As it is, you’re already one large festering infection; I can smell it from here.”

“She’ll need something to see with once she’s down here. The room is sealed shut except for that window and I’m staked down pretty far from it.”

“I have a large candle and several matches wrapped in cloth. You shall need to light them for her.”

“Fine, just hurry. There’s a guard who checks on me every two hours and he’ll be by soon.”

“Then we shall wait. He’ll know you’ve had a visitor the moment he smells the match’s residue in the air.” His mind made up, he sat back and waited for the hour to change.

It seemed that an entire day should have passed, but just minutes after the night watchman called the hour, the guard made his rounds. From the sound of it, his visit to Harry’s cell included several minutes of abuse that had Snape cringing and covering the little girl’s ears. The rattling chains drowned out any other sound and the door slammed shut.

“You can send her down now.” Despite what must have been a rather vicious attack by the guard, Harry sounded relatively the same.

“I’m going to lower her down now. Potter... Do they always do such?”

“Huh? Oh, no. He’s the exception.”

“Mark his name and know that we shall see him thoroughly punished for his actions once you are free.”

Harry chuckled dryly. “If I didn’t know better, Professor, I’d say you almost sound concerned.”

“Don’t be daft you idiot, and don’t call me professor. My tenure as your teacher was blessedly short-lived and I do not wish to be reminded of it.”

“Well anyway, you needn’t worry. That was only Ludo Bagman. He takes the first and last watch and reports to Voldemort if I’ve been overly abused. A blessing in disguise, all things considered.” He sounded only mildly bitter and Snape silently congratulated him on his composure.

“Enough talk; we must work quickly if we are to do this before the next guard arrives. Come, girl, I’ll need to lower you by rope.” He froze, startled, as a steady stream of unfamiliar words assaulted his ears then recalled that Harry spoke German.

Once lowered, the small child crept forward until she could touch Harry’s outstretched hand. They spoke quietly and rapidly before a match was struck and the candle lit. Feet scuffled on the floor.

“What is your name?” Harry asked in accented German.

“I am called Mette. Papa calls me Pretty Mette.”

“And do you know your last name?”

She replied easily and Harry smiled into the darkness. “Ah. A good family. Your papa would be very proud of you, Mette. Now, I’m going to light the candle and I want you to hold it very carefully. Tell me what you see and I shall tell that mean old man outside what you say.”

“Oh, mister is not mean. He is nice!”

Harry wanted to laugh at the sincerity in her young tone but refrained. Instead, he got the flame going and handed her the candle. In a soft voice she told him what she could see and he relayed her words to Snape. It took them the better part of an hour before they were through and then she was being gently hoisted back into the air.

“I have several balms that will be of use, though it will be quite painful to administer them. Once the next guard has passed I shall lower her back down with them. Prepare yourself for pain, Potter,” were Snape’s last chilling words.

~*~

tbc
- 15
- 16
- 17
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A Pirate's Tail