Snape was bothered by Lucas.

The complete version of that sentence: Snape was annoyed by Lucas's garishly colorful clothes.

He was a mentor who gave his students freedom in how they dressed. But how did Lucas repay him?

The Muggles on the street were glancing over at them even more frequently now.

A child dressed in the most outrageous fashion imaginable.

Snape pushed the trolley borrowed from the supermarket, his expression grim.

Once they finally found a spot free of Muggles, he packed up everything from the trolley.

The two of them followed a rough map toward the berth the Ministry of Magic had arranged.

The beach was mostly deserted. A row of warehouses stood along the waterfront, their tin roofs rattling and clanging in the sea breeze.

The buildings marked on the map with triangles stacked on squares, those had to be the warehouses.

They walked around them, and the crunch of sand underfoot became more distinct with every step.

A stray cat had been following them along the rooftops for a stretch. Snape observed it twice and confirmed it was simply a very curious cat.

At the far end of the warehouses stood a locked barrier gate. A rusted iron sign read: PRIVATE PROPERTY, NO TRESPASSING.

Whoever at the Ministry had drawn this rough map had a sense of humor. At the map's entrance marker, they had written: Trespass.

Lucas found that mildly amusing. Snape's threshold for amusement was considerably higher. He cast Alohomora without ceremony and the gate swung open.

Beyond it, the berth area came into view.

The entire stretch was empty. They passed berth one, then berth two.

At last, berth three.

Lucas let out a breath. He undid a few buttons of his short-sleeved shirt, letting the sea breeze reach his skin properly.

Snape reinforced Confundus Charms around the perimeter. Lucas sorted through the supermarket supplies — food, daily goods, tools — and repacked everything into waterproof cloths and wooden crates.

The two wizards worked steadily, heat rising off the effort.

On the other side of the barrier fence, two Muggle motorboats pulled up to shore. An old fisherman hauled a basket of seafood onto the bank, his footsteps heavy, crushing the tiny shells the waves had washed up underfoot.

He never once noticed Snape or Lucas.

The cat that had been trailing them padded gracefully over to the old fisherman's feet, rubbed against his legs for a moment, and received a fish for its trouble.

The Ministry's isolation wards and Snape's own magic were both doing their job.

"Lucas." Lucas turned at the sound.

Snape was placing a bottle into the water. His spell found it precisely beneath the surface.

A low, dull crack. The waves inside the berth surged up sharply.

Within seconds, a full-sized catamaran sat moored in the berth.

The water settled.

Snape, standing close to the edge, hadn't been soaked, he'd deflected the wave at the last moment. Lucas jogged over and began loading the supplies onto the boat.

An owl arrived from a distance just then, aiming for the supply crate Lucas was levitating with a Levitation Charm.

Everything on track. Landing imminent.

Then seven or eight seagulls came out of nowhere and intercepted it.

Snape had already gone below deck to take stock of the supplies the Ministry had stowed in the hold. He heard the commotion and stuck his head out, just in time to see seven or eight seagulls mobbing a chestnut-colored owl.

The local seabirds shrieked raucously. A large clump of feathers had been pecked from one of the owl's wings, but its talons still clutched the letter.

"Stupefy!" Snape became the owl's unlikely rescuer.

The moment his spell flew, the bandit seagulls sensed the danger and scattered.

The owl caught its breath. It flew crookedly down onto the deck and extended a talon toward Snape, presenting the items tied to it.

Snape lifted them free with his wand, then cast several detection spells. Lucas set down his hauling work and came over to look.

The box opened. Out fell a brass compass wrapped in parchment.

Heavy in hand. The lid was engraved with star charts.

Snape opened it, and the thing let out a piercing shriek.

Strictly speaking, "shriek" wasn't quite accurate.

What came from the compass was music. A rhythm Snape found utterly chaotic, broken up by intermittent drumbeats, Muggle heavy metal, as it turned out.

Snape snapped the compass shut.

"Galloping Gorgons!" he muttered. He'd taken the full blast at close range. His ears were ringing.

The seagulls that had scattered were now circling overhead. At the sight of it all, they cried out with what sounded disturbingly like excitement.

Whether they were enjoying the music or simply laughing at Snape was difficult to say.

Lucas picked up the parchment from around the compass. The handwriting was unmistakable, Headmaster Dumbledore's signature loops-within-loops script.

Dear Severus,

I have specially crafted this compass for you. It will guide you through waters where the magnetic field runs amok, and when the journey is going smoothly, it makes for quite an invigorating way to pass the time. I selected the most popular Muggle music for your enjoyment. Wishing you a pleasant voyage.

No signature.

Snape took a moment to collect himself. Then he turned to the owl. "Come here."

The owl showed no sign of leaving without a reply.

To keep it from meeting with an accident on the return trip — and losing the message with it, Snape retrieved a small vial of potion. He cradled the owl's feather-bare wing in one hand and with the other tipped the potion swiftly onto the bald patch.

A thin curl of pale smoke rose from where the feathers met the wing-root. The seagulls still circling overhead drifted quietly a little higher.

The process looked alarming. The owl didn't seem to feel a thing.

Snape released it after a moment. The owl tested itself, hopping on one leg across the deck a couple of times.

Snape flipped Dumbledore's note over and scrawled received on the back. He tied the reply to the owl and sent it on its way.

➤ Next: Choosing the Spell

Chapter 261 - Choosing the Spell

The ship left its berth and headed out to sea. Salty wind whipped across the deck, carrying spray, and the sails snapped in the breeze.

Gradually, the beach disappeared from view.

Lucas stood alone on the deck. On instinct, he reached out and caught a wisp of wind, magic curling around his fingertips.

The sun blazed down over a boundless sea. Snape stepped out of the cabin.

"Let's talk about the contract." He had brought along a copy of An Encyclopedia of Common Spells.

Lucas let go. The wisp of wind slipped from his fingers.

They stood leaning against the railing. Lucas tried a careful question: "What would you like to teach me?"

Dark Magic was out of the question, and as for an Animagus transformation, Snape didn't know that one personally.

Snape had already thought this through. He described the spell's effect in plain terms: "A wizard's mind is remarkably intricate, yet to an expert it is utterly unguarded. I can teach you a kind of magic that protects your memories and your mind."

Occlumency.

Lucas had already suspected as much. But what he said instead was: "I've heard of another kind of magic — the only spell a Dementor actually fears..."

Expecto Patronum.

Snape frowned and looked at Lucas. Before the holidays, Dumbledore had hinted that the Patronus Charm was a fine choice.

Snape just felt Occlumency had a better chance of success.

"You want to learn how to resist Dementors? Why? You shouldn't have ever encountered one of those things." Snape fixed a suspicious look on Lucas.

"I watched Greengrass use this spell once." Lucas offered that as his opening.

Snape filled in the rest: "I recall that Mr. Greengrass drilled at it for quite some time, hoping to earn extra points, but gave up in the end."

"Yes, Professor, your memory is correct." Lucas nodded. "I tried it on my own in secret. When I cast most spells there's at least some effect, but with Expecto Patronum, my wand does absolutely nothing."

Snape didn't answer immediately.

Discussing Lucas teaching himself a highly difficult spell wasn't the most pressing matter right now.

"The purpose of this trip is to fulfill the contract," Snape reminded him. "We should keep the difficulty within a manageable range."

"But the whole point of the contract ritual is to learn better." Lucas said it with complete confidence.

Snape threw cold water on that: "Have you not considered that I might not know this spell myself?"

"I was worried about that at first — but given that you asked the question that way..." Lucas smiled, just slightly sly.

Snape's expression stayed entirely serious. "I'll assume you've already looked into the foundational requirements on your own. People generally say the Patronus Charm needs a happy memory at its core."

"Or a powerful sense of resolve." Lucas put that in promptly, proving he had already done his reading.

"Do you have that?" Snape asked. Short. Blunt.

Lucas thought it over carefully. After a moment: "I'm still working on grasping happiness and holding on to it. But if resolve alone counts — I believe I have more than enough."

He had come back to start over, not to transcribe things he had already mastered and dazzle people with old knowledge. To keep moving forward, you had to keep learning what you hadn't yet acquired.

"I'll find you a book. Tomorrow at this same time, come up to the deck, I'll run you through spell training." Snape turned and walked away. He didn't enjoy the damp, salty air and wind. The cabin was cool and dry, which suited him far better.

They hadn't been at sea long. He still had time to send an owl and have the books and materials he needed delivered.

Lucas watched Snape disappear into the cabin.

He raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum."

Nothing happened. Still.

---

Night fell suddenly on the open water. The sky darkened, and then the entire stretch of sea went black.

The warm yellow deck lights swayed gently as the vessel rocked with its faint, steady motion.

Snape had just woken from a light sleep. The unfamiliar berth and the subtle unsteadiness beneath him reminded him they were already at sea.

He wasn't sure when he had nodded off.

Being out on the water meant the cabin was never completely still, so brewing potions was out. He had pulled out a thick volume he never normally had time to read.

Lucas wasn't the kind of child who disturbed people. In the first few hours, Snape had been dimly aware of Lucas sorting through the Ministry of Magic supplies, unpacking everyday items and arranging them in the spots he preferred.

Later on, accompanied by soft rustling sounds, Snape had drifted off without noticing.

When he woke, he looked around for Lucas. A magical ritual didn't happen all at once, it would build gradually over the course of the journey.

Lucas was sitting in a folding chair. Beside him sat a folding table, both secured to the deck with magic.

Snape stepped out of the cabin and paused at the threshold. The temperature had dropped with the night, and he had changed back into a long-sleeved shirt.

On the table sat a sandwich with just under half of it remaining, undoubtedly gone cold in the sea breeze. Beside it, a cup of hot tea still steamed, freshly poured from a thermos.

Lucas had wrapped in a blanket. The seat was close to the ship's railing, and a slender fishing rod extended out from beside him, its line dotted with pearl-shaped luminous floats that glimmered faintly before disappearing into the dark water.

Sensing someone watching, Lucas looked back.

"Professor?" Lucas carefully stepped around the fishing rod and stood up. "I thought you'd sleep a while longer. You slept through lunch, so for dinner I set aside some sandwiches. There's tuna and ham."

Almost from the moment Lucas started talking, the quiet emptiness on the deck dissolved.

Snape picked a flavor without much thought, then stopped Lucas just as he turned to go fetch it. "You even brought a fishing rod? Should I be grateful you didn't commandeer my cauldron?"

He was referring to the washbasin at Lucas's feet, inside which a small fish was already swimming around.

Using a cauldron would never have crossed Lucas's mind.

Lucas smiled, passed by Snape, and went into the cabin to get the food.

The professor's voice carried out from the deck behind: "And bring another stool!"

A few minutes later, Lucas sat down beside Snape. The two of them faced the pitch-black sea.

"I packed the rod for last year's summer camp," Lucas said. "Looking back, a bit over-prepared, but I dug it out when I was sorting through my bag before dark. The route chart said there'd be some decent catches around here, so I thought I'd give it a try."

Snape had also been handed a fishing rod.

He had no particular interest in this kind of idle pastime, but he didn't walk away either. He leaned back in his chair, reeled his line in, and examined Lucas's trade secret.

At the end of the line was a fake fish, clearly the work of a Transfiguration charm.

"I wasn't sure if it would work," Lucas explained. "There was a section in that supermarket selling lures shaped like that, so I figured they ought to be useful."

Lucas handed Snape a paperclip.

➤ Next: Dare to Do It Again