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Author: St Margarets Story: The New Zealand Chronicles Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 23 Words: 170,671
The sailing ship, The Pride of Liverpool, pushed smoothly through the fog bank, slowly taking Ginny and Harry from the shores of home. The fog was so thick that, from her place at the railing, Ginny could barely see the ship's gaudy figurehead. She and Harry were determined to remain on deck, however, since Captain Melville had assured them that once they were free of the harbor and the mist, he would raise the sails and then they would experience the "ride of their lives." Ginny didn't mind the fog or the silence. It was enough to be standing in the circle of Harry's arms as their voyage began. The wooden ship gave a little shudder when the fog began to thin, almost as if it was eager to move into the sunlight. The sailing wizards, who had been idly chatting, now sprang into action and assumed their stations. Sunlight streamed through the last remnants of the fog. Ginny squinted at the bright light and moved a lock of hair out of her eyes as the breeze picked up. There was a shout, and then the wizards started to lower the sails. Ginny watched the bunched-up canvases open with satisfying snaps. The fluttering sound of the open canvases reverberated down the tall masts to the deck under Ginny's feet. Her stomach did an excited flip and she braced herself against the railing before the white sails billowed out against the blue sky and the ship shot across the open water. She caught Harry's eye and they laughed together out of sheer exuberance. This was faster than flying. Never before had she felt so much energy. Wind and water and wood were in perfect accord. They were on their way. * "This is a Floo-enhanced ship," Captain Melville said from his place at the head of the dinner table later on that evening. "With Floo powder, The Pride can do the clipper route to Dunedin in a fortnight if I push her. If we were running her on sail and marine magic alone, it would take us a month." He shook his shaggy white head. "It takes those poor Muggles a hundred days or more just to make it to the Cape." Ginny wasn't sure what he was talking about. She knew Dunedin was their destination in New Zealand and he said two weeks, so that's all she was really interested in. That, and the fact that her roast beef dinner with all the trimmings was superb. She and Harry hadn't eaten since their late breakfast at the hotel. Then they had spent most of the afternoon "exploring" their cabin. She blushed as she took a sip of water and remembered all of the other things they had explored. Her eyes strayed across the table to Harry, who was watching her with an interested expression. She blushed again, which made him smile. "So you two are newlyweds?" asked the handsome Australian on her right. He had introduced himself to Ginny as Michael DuSult – the answer to all of her problems. When Ginny replied stiffly that she 'didn't have any problems, thank you,' he had thrown back his dark, curly head and laughed, showing all of his even white teeth. Then he had stopped flirting and was actually very nice. "Isn't it obvious?" smirked the blonde witch on Harry's left. It was the first thing she had said all evening besides 'hello.' "I was at Hogwarts when these two got together." Harry turned to her with a frown of recognition. "Slug Club?" "That's right. Melinda Bobbin." Now Ginny remembered her. She looked different in those sophisticated robes, but that air of bored detachment was still there. Melinda, as a seventh year, had never bothered to talk to Ginny. "You're Melinda Bobbin?" Michael DuSult asked. Ginny was surprised at the sharpness of his tone. He had been so flirty and relaxed up until now. "Of Bobbin's Apothecaries?" "Yes," Melinda said primly. Michael DuSult leaned back in his chair and looked down his fine Roman nose at her. "And to think I was worried about you." "Worried about me?" Melinda bristled. "I'm the competition at Erehwon Island," Michael announced. "I'm representing Ayers Apothecary – and I'm going to gather that fungi before you do." Melinda looked down her perfect little nose at him. "What makes you think that?" "Because you obviously have never done field work in your life." "Obviously?" Her voice was frigid. "No one as young or as pretty as you could survive one night in the bush," Michael declared. "What was your father thinking letting –" Melinda's brown eyes were glowing with anger. "My father –" "Goodness me," said Captain Melville. "The elves are bringing in the cherries flambé. Those flames will hit the ceiling if we don't dig in." Michael's mouth twitched in amusement. "Wouldn't want to burn your fine ship, Captain." Melissa retreated into a sulky silence for the rest of the meal, but Michael treated them all to stories of his exploits finding rare potion ingredients around the world. It was amusing to watch Melinda fight her fascination with Michael DuSult. And it was amusing to watch the other witches at the table try to flirt with him when all of his attention was focused on needling Melinda. Ginny exchanged another glance with Harry. He could see it, too. They had that Ron and Hermione dynamic, all right. As they walked around the moonlit deck after dinner, Ginny tried to remember why Michael DuSult's name was so familiar. "I think he had some connection to Bill," she said. "Maybe in Egypt?" "I dunno," Harry answered looking up at the towering masts, now empty of sails. "I've never heard the name." "He's Bill's age, I think." Ginny frowned. "He's a little old for Melinda but –" "You're joking." Harry turned to her. "They were at each other's throats the entire evening." She waved that way. "They couldn't take their eyes off of each other. And they have their work in common." "They're both daft about plants, so what? He practically accused her of being a spoiled little rich girl, and she practically accused him of being a womanizer." "All the better," she answered calmly. "They know what they're getting into." Harry laughed. "You're matchmaking, Molly." He always called her by her middle name when she acted like her mother. "Of course." She tossed her hair and gave him a pleased smile. "I'm happily married, why wouldn't I want that for everyone else?" He pulled her against him. "What a coincidence. I'm happily married, too." "Mum told me that sometimes you have to work to keep your marriage happy," she said, lifting her face. "We'd best get to work then," he said, after he kissed her. She smiled and let him lead her to their cabin, all thoughts of Michael DuSult and Melinda Bobbin cast aside. * The next two days passed in much the same manner – except the further south they traveled, the warmer the temperature. They spent their mornings in the cabin since the elves kindly brought them breakfast each day. Ginny kept trying to read the Magical New Zealand guide book that Hermione had given her for her birthday, but Harry always managed to distract her before she could read more than a few paragraphs. After lunch each day, they plotted a course with the captain so they could fly over the open ocean without encountering any Muggle ships. By now, Ginny had completely recovered her confidence on a broom and was enjoying every minute of their flights together. Harry had given her a new Euro broom for her birthday, the Formula One model, perfect for racing. While it didn't maneuver as well as Harry's Firebolt, it did have speed. On the third day, Ginny beat him in a race – much to his delight, since the loser of the race had to grant the winner a favor in bed. "I get all the covers," Ginny told him when he asked what she wanted. His face fell. "I thought you might like a different favor." "You hog all the blankets," she said with a raised eyebrow. "What else could I possibly want in bed?" "Hmm." His eyes gleamed as he flew close enough so that his thigh touched hers. "Perhaps I could make a few suggestions?" Ginny wished they weren't so far away from the ship – not when he was looking at her like that. She tingled with anticipation. "I've liked all of your suggestions so far." He gave her a heart-stopping grin and stretched precariously to kiss her. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he whispered in her ear. They clung together for a moment, and then he pulled away. "Race you back to the ship," he called. Bemused by that last kiss, she wasted time admiring the way he moved his shoulders to counter the cross wind before she realized he was going to win if she didn't catch up. "Harry, that's cheating!" She crouched forward into racing position, feeling the Propulsion Charms shift smoothly to ever-increasing speeds. Once she caught up to Harry, she didn't pull ahead, but used him to shield her from the breeze. He knew what she was doing because he smiled and abruptly slowed so she was buffeted by a sudden gust of wind. She giggled and slowed, too. They lurched forward and back at a snail's pace. "Now we're having the world's slowest broom race?" Harry asked. He stopped and so did she. "You started it." He laughed. "I want all the covers." She cocked her head. "Okay, but only if you offer me the drink of water first." He knew just what she meant by 'the drink of water.' "I'll offer you many drinks of water," he promised in that tone of voice that always sent shivers down her spine. "Why are we so far away from the ship?" she whined. "Because we took two brooms." She knew just what he meant by 'two brooms.' And the thought made her cheeks warm. They had jokingly speculated last night about what could be accomplished on one broom. Ginny looked around. There was nothing to see but the greenish choppy water below them and the colorless sky all around them. Why not? She tittered nervously. "I could send my broom back to its box – it has a Homing Charm." His eyes lit up at her suggestion. "I knew there was a reason I picked that broom." Why not? Melting heat worked its way to her center in anticipation. They were going to try it. With an excited giggle, she laced her left arm around Harry's neck while he held her around her waist. Then she swung her right leg up and over his lap, so she ended up facedown on his shoulder, straddling him. Her broom took off toward the ship. When she shifted and pressed against him, Harry hissed and grabbed her hips. "Sorry," she whispered. Then she giggled. "You know, everything is – er – lined up, but we have the small problem of clothes." Clothes seemed to be the last thing on his mind as he kissed her deeply, his hands palming her hips. Rocking together, Ginny realized that he was ready, she was ready, and it was all becoming too much. "Harry," she gasped. "Hang on to my neck," he said, taking his hands away from her for a moment. She felt a wave of magic and then the cool breeze and… Harry. "How did you do that?" "Auror training," he answered. "Wh –" "Talk later," he muttered into her ear. * "So tell me about this charm and Auror training," she said much later as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. "And where are my shorts and knickers exactly?" He laughed. "Didn't think about that before, did you?" She opened her eyes and looked over his shoulder to see their underwear hanging off the twigs of his broom. She gave him a half-hearted swat on his back since she was too relaxed to work up much annoyance at his smug tone. "No, I didn't, but then I didn't know the Commando Charm existed until it was too late." He chuckled. "Commando Charm – that's a good name. Kingsley just called it the Pants Charm." "Harry." She pulled away to look at him. "Don't tell me Kingsley Shacklebolt taught you that Charm?" "Okay, I won't tell you that." This swat was a little more heartfelt. "That can't be an official Auror technique." "I don't know if it's official, but it's dead useful as a surprise tactic – especially if you're chasing someone and you want them to trip and be flustered enough so you can easily apprehend them." "Or as a party trick," she said scornfully. "Ginny, no one wants to see the ugly, hairy bum of a Dark wizard at a party or anywhere else." She giggled. "No, I suppose not." "I would never do that to an unsuspecting person." He lifted a lock of hair out of her eyes and smiled at her. "I only use my powers for good." She sighed. "Oh, that was good." Then she giggled and looked into his eyes. "Now we can say we did the deed on a broom." "And who exactly are we going to say that to?" Now, she really laughed. "I can imagine the letter home: 'Dear Mum and Dad, you'll never guess what we did on our honeymoon.'" "Right." He laughed and tightened his embrace. "It will have to stay our secret." * Trying to dress on a hovering broom was yet another secret – albeit a secret more hilarious than sensual – that they best to keep to themselves, Ginny thought as she waited for the elves to finish serving the soup. They had just made it back to the ship in time to hastily prepare for dinner. "We were going to send a search party out for you," Melinda said, "but Michael didn't think you would appreciate that." Ginny didn't dare look at Harry or she would blush even more. She didn't want to think of the embarrassment if they had been caught. "You do know about 'Mayday,' don't you?" Captain Melville asked Harry. "I forgot to mention it earlier." "Isn't that what the Muggles say into their radios when their ship is about to capsize?" "They say it because it's ancient marine magic." The captain smiled as he warmed to his topic. "Maydays are flying fish that live in every part of the seven seas. When they're called, they will leap out of the water and alert the nearest wizard." Harry's eyes were alive with interest. "Do they speak?" "Oh, no. They sort of glow and hover in front of you until you notice them." The captain spread his thumb and forefinger. "They're little – about four inches long. Then they lead you to the victims." "Well, what about –" "The Law of the Sea supersedes the Magical Secrecy Laws," the captain interrupted. "If a Muggle is in danger, you are compelled to help." He shuddered. "But the paperwork you have to file afterwards…." Harry smiled knowingly. That had been his chief complaint about being an Auror. "Captain, have we passed the equator yet?" Melinda asked, changing the subject. "Aye." He nodded. "We passed it this afternoon. We'll be in the Doldrums soon, I'm afraid. Without wind power we'll lose some time, but we still have plenty of Floo powder in the hold to see us safely through." "Are there always Doldrums?" asked Melinda. "Aye. It's just the way of the Atlantic." The captain shrugged. "Don't worry, Miss, you'll be at Erehwon Island in good time for your mushroom hunt." Michael laughed and Melinda bristled. "I'm not looking for mushrooms, I'm looking for Fortitude Fungus, which is very rare and very power –" "You're not going to find it in the shops in Wellington," Michael interrupted. "I know that. I'm going to Erehwon, same as you." "Do you know what Erehwon means?" Michael demanded. "It's 'nowhere' spelled backwards. Those Kiwis have a terrific sense of humor; I'll give them that. What does a Pommy princess like you know about a place like that?" Melinda's eyes flashed. "You don't know about that island because it's the first time they've opened it to people in fifty years." "But I've been to similar remote places," Michael said urgently. "This island is full of Apparition traps – just like the mainland of New Zealand. Have you ever been in an Apparition trap? Do you know how to get out of one? Do you know how to detect one?" Melinda seemed to wilt under his rapid-fire questions, and for the first time Ginny felt sorry for her. Ginny had never heard of Apparition traps, either, although if New Zealand was full of them, then the guidebook Hermione had given her would cover it. Ginny made a vow to read a chapter a night – even if it meant dousing Harry in cold water. She watched him listen to Melinda and Michael's bickering and dreamily traced the line of his mouth with her eyes. Who was she kidding? She would have to douse herself in cold water first. Michael softened his tone at the stricken look on Melinda's face. "I remember the first time I was caught in an Apparition trap. I went to school in Brazil, since my father was cataloguing potion plants of the rainforest at that time. Anyway –" "Hold on!" Ginny said. "You went to school in Brazil?" She giggled now that the mystery was solved. "You're the Michael DuSult who was Bill's pen friend!" He stared at her. "You know Bill Weasley?" "He's my oldest brother." His face cleared for a moment and then darkened. "Why wouldn't he visit us?" Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. Probably because he didn't have the money to travel." She frowned at him. "You didn't have to send him that hat to shrink his ears." Michael had the grace to look ashamed. "I was a little hot-headed and reckless back then." Melinda snorted. Michael ignored her. "His letter turning me down was so stiff and formal – he sounded like the worst stereotype of a Pom." "He's not like that at all," Ginny said hotly. "He was probably a little defensive about not having any money." "Probably," Michael agreed. "Will you pass along my apologies?" "Why don't you write to him yourself?" Ginny suggested, pleased that she had finally uncovered the secret of Bill's pen friend. "He lives in London now – he's married with a baby on the –" She gasped and looked at Harry. "Fleur must have had the baby by now!" "I reckon so," Harry said. "We're supposed to making a stop for owl post…" He looked at the captain in question. "Oh yes, at the Island of Trindade. It's off the coast of Brazil. Your mail will be waiting for you there." "How long until we reach this place?" "Three or four days," the captain answered. "It's hard to say." Ginny listened to the rest of the conversation with half an ear. She had never been out of contact with her family for such a long period of time. The funny thing was that she hadn't missed them one bit – until now. And now she missed them all with such a terrible longing that it made her stomach hurt. Harry noticed her silence and how she picked at the rest of her meal. He didn't mention it when they walked around the deck, probably because, for the first time, they noticed that the night sky had changed. Instead of the familiar North Star and Big Dipper, they could see the constellations visible from the Southern Hemisphere. It made Ginny more homesick than ever. Once in their cabin, they didn't immediately start undressing each other. Instead, Harry sat on the bed and pulled her next to him. "You okay?" She nodded and blinked back the tears. "I was afraid you'd feel homesick without being able to contact anyone." She wouldn't give into these feelings. Harry was going to feel guilty for taking her away, when this was such a wonderful adventure for both of them. "No, I'm all right." She leaned against him. "I'm just being stupid." "No, you're not," he whispered. "I used to feel that way when I was at the Dursleys' and I couldn't talk to Ron or Hermione or do magic." "But I'm not in a horrible place with horrible people, Harry." She sat up straight. "I'm happy with you – happier than I've ever been." A hint of wistfulness flickered across his face. "Really?" Now she really wanted to cry. How could he not know that? "Really," she said briskly. "I've had my knickers in a twist today – literally." She smiled in reminiscence at her clumsy attempts to get dressed on a broom. "And I'm not going to twist myself into feeling bad when I'm really very happy." Harry regarded her seriously. "This is one of those mysterious teaspoon moments, isn't it?" "Teaspoon moments?" Harry proceeded to tell her the story of Hermione explaining why Cho cried all the time during his fifth year – and Ron's reaction. When Harry got to the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' punch line, Ginny shook her head. "I didn't realize how much work Hermione did to domesticate you two. Honestly, I should send her a gift voucher from Flourish and Blotts." "Why?" Harry was looking a little offended. Ginny giggled. "Because of Hermione, you knew there was a better question to ask than if this was a hormonal problem." He grinned. "Oh, yeah. That didn't go over very well, did it?" "It never does," she informed him with a smile. * They were indeed in the Doldrums the next day. Ginny didn't need to ask the captain to confirm it. There was no wind whatsoever. The sea was eerily calm. And it was hot – so hot that sun seemed to burn right through her flesh to scorch her bones. The only relief outdoors was to swim, although they couldn't swim as the same time since the ship was still moving at a steady clip with the aid of Floo powder. They worked out yet another plan involving one broom – Ginny would hover low over the water while Harry swam and then Harry would do the same for her. It was somewhat refreshing to swim in the warm water, but it was hot work to sit motionless on a broom with the sun beating down. "Fly around a bit," Harry urged as he treaded water. "Your face is all red from the heat." It would feel good to have a bit of breeze in her hair, Ginny thought. And Harry's swimming had improved by leaps and bounds. "What about sharks?" "The captain didn't think there were any around," Harry assured her. "Just keep me in sight." She smiled. "Okay. I'll just make a circle." The wind felt good on her face as she urged her broom into a tight, fast circle. She kept her eyes on the water since she didn't want to lose sight of Harry. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something white skimming on top of the water, but then dismissed it as her imagination. After staring at one shade of blue for so long, her eyes might be playing tricks. Then she did see something. A woman – a Muggle probably – was in an inflatable yellow raft, wildly waving her arms. She must have spotted Ginny, since no one would bother waving her arms on such a hot day. It defied every instinct Ginny possessed to let a Muggle see her riding a broom, but she had to do it according to the Law of the Sea. The woman didn't look like she was in immediate danger, so Ginny shouted down to her, "I'll be back with help!" "No!" the woman shouted. "My husband! He's hurt!" To Ginny's horror, there was a man sprawled at the bottom of the rubber boat. But first Ginny had to get her husband – Harry would know what to do. She raced back to him. "I'll take the man to the ship and you stay with the woman," Harry said as they flew to the raft. "We're not that far away. I can see the masts from here." Ginny swallowed. "Right." There was no use telling him she was nervous about sharing a rubber raft with a hysterical Muggle woman. And what if the man couldn't be saved? Harry didn't seem to have any such doubts. He swooped down to the raft in one fluid motion. "Where is he injured?" Harry asked the woman, scrambling off the broom to check the man's pulse. The woman stared dazedly at Ginny – on a broom, hovering in mid-air – and then she focused on Harry. "Gary hit his head when our ship capsized. I managed to drag him on to the dinghy. He's been in and out of consciousness for the past eight hours." Eight hours. No wonder the woman was shaking from shock. And she had a bad cut on her leg. "Ginny, let's both do Petrificus Totalus. If he's immobilized, it will be easier to transport him." "Don't you want to Apparate with him?" "The ship is moving," he reminded her. "What if you fly back and…." She shut her mouth. The man was breathing shallowly. He had been in the heat all day. Time was running out. Without another word, she hopped off the broom and balanced on the edge of the swaying rubber raft. As she helped Harry Petrify the man, the woman watched wide-eyed. "I'll sit on the broom and we'll both levitate him so he's resting across me," Harry said quietly. The woman whimpered as her husband was raised through thin air. "Let's bind him." Ropes shot out of their wands. "I'll be right back." Ginny watched him fly carefully away, conscious of the stranger next to her and the thin layer of rubber that was keeping both of them from plummeting into the ocean depths. "Twenty years," the woman said, wringing her hands. "This is our twentieth wedding anniversary and we thought we'd celebrate by sailing around the world. Gary took a leave of absence from the university." "What's your name?" Ginny asked in what she hoped was a soothing voice. She didn't blame the woman for falling apart. She had lived with Harry for a week and she couldn't imagine being parted from him. How would you feel after twenty years? "Carol," the woman said faintly. "Sit down," Ginny urged. Then she noticed that the woman's leg wound was still seeping and that there was a trail of blood on the side of the raft where the woman had scrambled from the capsizing boat. She surreptitiously conjured an umbrella behind her back and raised it over the woman's head. "A bit of shade will make you feel better." The woman stared at the floating umbrella. Ginny tore the hem of her Cannons' t-shirt. She hated to rip this one up for bandages, but she didn't trust how long conjured strips of cloth would last. Once the clumsy bandage was in place, Carol seemed to relax. "Are you in one of those elite navy units?" she asked. "Like the SEALs?" "Erm. Mayday Brigade," Ginny improvised. "We were on training maneuvers when we spotted you." "Oh." Her shoulders dropped. "I've always thought highly of the navy. You're not Americans though?" "We're British." She frowned. "This part of the Atlantic is a long way from Britain – for their navy, I mean." Ginny hoped her geography was right. "We're not that far from the Falklands." Carol's face cleared. "I remember. There was a war there?" Ginny had no idea. "Seems like there are wars everywhere these days." "Isn't that the truth?" Ginny didn't answer her because what she saw slicing through the water made her blood run cold. "Those aren't –?" Carol gasped and stared at the half-dozen white fins in the water. Maybe if she said it, she could shatter the numb fear that had suddenly enveloped her. "Sharks," Ginny whispered. "Those are sharks." ******** A/N: What? Like I can't leave you with a cliffie every now and then? There really is an Erehwon in New Zealand – it's just not an island. Melinda Bobbin is a canon character. I made her Roger Davies's cousin in my story, Roger and Lisa, A Romance. Melinda and Michael's story is continued in the background of that story – which takes place nine years after the events of this one I stole the idea of Floo Powder powering magical transportation – like the Hogwarts Express and the Ministry cars – from Julu. Apparition traps are explained in that magical guidebook of Ginny's. As soon as she and Harry get over the novelty of being married, we can find out more. I planned a decorous honeymoon for the two of them – but they would not cooperate, as I should have known. Thanks to Sherylyn for the beta.
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