"Handle it," Snape said with a brief glance, giving Lucas a simple order.

Lucas lifted the bird with a Levitation Charm and followed Snape into the cabin.

Snape went to the sitting room. Lucas went to the kitchen.

The Potions professor settled on the sofa and listened, genuinely curious what on earth Lucas was actually doing in there.

Lucas reappeared at his leisure, carrying a bottle cap's worth of fresh water and a few lumps of flour paste.

Then he located the medical kit that had been tidied away just that morning.

Throughout the whole process, the bird floated alongside him, first confused as to why it could suddenly fly again, then horrified to discover it had no control over its own direction, and by now fully resigned to reality, hanging there as quietly as a balloon on a string.

Lucas sat down on the sofa across from Snape.

He used a cotton swab to part the bird's wings, his hands perfectly steady, not wavering even when the little creature cried out in pain.

A dislocated bone. Lucas tapped the spot on the wing with his wand.

There was a very faint crack, and the fragile hollow bird-bone slid back into place.

The bird went still for exactly one second, then let out a wretched shriek, but Lucas had already stuffed the flour paste into its beak.

With the basic treatment done, Lucas glanced toward Snape.

His mentor was reading Lucas's boat-repair reference book with great concentration, open to the exact page where Lucas had left the bookmark.

That page was marked with the names and assembly order of over a thousand parts across the entire vessel.

Snape's expression was focused and easy, as though he were personally savoring the delights of the manufacturing industry.

Lucas decided not to disturb his mentor's performance of being busy.

He set the bird on the sitting-room table, defined a small area for it, laid a towel inside the boundary, then prepared its food and water.

Only once Lucas had returned to the kitchen to wash his hands did Snape finally lower the book he'd been holding aloft.

The bird was within arm's reach of him, hopping against the magical barrier Lucas had set up and failing; it chirped and chattered, trying to summon Snape, and this time it worked.

But the moment Snape fixed his gaze on it, the bird went silent.

The Potions professor felt a quiet satisfaction. He couldn't intimidate Lucas on this boat, but at least that particular power remained intact.

Then his gaze drifted slightly downward, landing on the glass tabletop. The amber-tinted surface reflected his face with perfect clarity.

Snape's smile froze.

He saw his own hair, disheveled, plastered against his face, and a ring of indentations pressed into it by the brim of the sun hat.

In the kitchen, Lucas heard a thud. He let the sound of the running tap cover his laughter, picturing Snape earnestly reading a book he couldn't understand, hair sticking up at odd angles.

Ha ha ha ha.

The injured bird was back on deck in under 3 hours.

Snape had washed his hair, and he'd somehow found a hair tie and pulled it back.

Lucas walked behind him, cradling the bird, eyes fixed on Snape's ponytail as it bounced with each step. He very much wanted to reach out and grab it.

Snape had taken two steps before he sensed something was off. He stopped and waved a hand. "Walk in front."

Lucas moved ahead of him, looking completely normal in every conceivable way.

Snape studied him with suspicion and touched his hair, uneasy.

This little wizard was definitely plotting something.

He should have taught him Occlumency from the start, Snape thought, with feeling.

They walked into the evening sun toward the side of the ship. Lucas held the bird in one hand; when it showed no reaction to being released, he poked it.

The sea breeze had blown the bird's claws all the way in. The whole creature looked like a small hand-warmer ball.

"Fly," Lucas said flatly, and poked it again.

The bird only grew more reluctant to leave his hand.

"Tsk." Snape walked over, done with Lucas's lack of efficiency, and reached out two fingers to pluck up the clingy little bird.

Held in his grip, it reacted exactly like a Hogwarts student meeting Snape, the fluffy ball of feathers puffed out completely. Then, under Lucas's watchful gaze, it wrenched free one feather and launched itself from Snape's hand.

The bird circled once above Lucas's head with evident reluctance, then caught the wind off the steadily sailing vessel and flew away into the distance.

"Stupid little thing." Snape brushed the feather from his hand and watched the direction it had flown, displeased. "That bird is obviously the product of a magical crossbreed. Naturally, the Ministry of Magic has no concern for keeping that confidential."

"It was rather cute, though," Lucas said agreeably. "Based on our course, we should be approaching the wizarding shipping lane soon. Half a day's sailing after we enter it and we can disembark on the largest wizard-inhabited island in the world."

Snape was already aware of this.

He leaned against the ship's railing and let the wind run through his hair. With the tie in place, it no longer whipped about freely.

Lucas, standing beside him, was not so lucky, the wind had blown him into something resembling a golden sea urchin.

Snape watched him for a moment. Lucas was about to ask whether they'd go fishing again today when Snape spoke first.

"Your hair needs a trim."

"It does not!" Lucas said — loudly.

He immediately registered that his voice had come out rather too loud. Sure enough, Snape was staring at him with the look of someone who had just caught exactly the evidence he needed: Lucas had been sneaking glances at his hair.

"What I mean is, I want to grow it out, Professor." Lucas's eyes slid sideways, though he recovered quickly. "Light blond hair looks good long. I want to grow it out more so I have more styling options." His tone was firm.

He absolutely was not going to gamble on whether Snape might want to cut his hair for him.

If circumstances had permitted, he'd have liked to get his hands on Snape's hair first, but apparently Snape cut his own, as quite a few wizards didn't trust barbershops, convinced they'd steal their hair.

Snape surely had his own stylistic considerations as well. He did seem genuinely satisfied with his look.

Lucas absolutely did not want the same hairstyle.

Snape didn't comment immediately. He simply stared, until the cold finally got to Lucas — until Lucas rubbed his own arm against the chill — and only then did Snape let it go.

"Very well. I'll keep that in mind." He was brief about it. "I look forward to seeing what you look like with long hair."

And just like that, he had locked in Lucas's hairstyle for the next several years.

➤ Next: Daring to Take Risks

Chapter 269 - Daring to Take Risks

By the time Lucas had packed away the beach parasol and folding chair and changed into his fishing gear, he heard a faint scratching sound from below the hull.

Not the crash of waves against the side he had long grown used to. Not the snap of the sail in the wind.

The magic in the air had shifted, like the humid air of a wet region suddenly turning dry.

A wizard with keen senses could catch a change that lasted only an instant.

Snape came out of the cabin.

He walked quickly to Lucas's side, gripped the railing, and looked down.

"Professor, we've entered wizarding waters." Lucas's voice was swallowed by the wind.

Snape said nothing. He drew his wand and whipped a spell toward the hull.

A flash of red light. The scratching stopped.

Lucas ran to the helm and tapped out the nautical chart with his wand. The designated course looked fine.

He thought for a moment, then ran into the cabin to retrieve something.

By the time he returned to Snape's side, the Potions professor had moved. He had finished clearing one side of the hull and laid down protective charms. Now he was at the opposite side of the vessel, where the dry rustle of scales was coming from.

Rain had begun to fall. Sea and sky blurred into one, and the fine drizzle obscured the view, making it impossible to see the full shape of whatever was attacking them. The sky was at precisely that last moment before full darkness, the deep teal light turned everything dreadful.

Lucas had to press close to Snape's ear to make himself heard.

"The books only said the edges of a folded sea-lane would hold unpredictable things. Magical creatures are drawn here!" What the books had not mentioned was that those creatures would attack ships.

Snape shoved Lucas's face away. He had no interest in hearing anything that started with "the books say" right now.

Where had the boy's usual quick-wittedness gone?

But Lucas pressed close again and shouted, "Muggle compasses spin wildly in conditions like this — but we have a wizard's compass!"

Snape threw another spell while Lucas was still talking.

He clearly struck something clinging to the hull. Green blood traced the outline of an invisible magical creature against the dark. It looked something like a sea anemone, but covered in scales.

Lucas had delivered all his warnings. He drew his wand and blasted away an octopus that was hauling itself over the railing.

A fire spell flared and died almost instantly over open water, but the smell of cooked seafood drifted through the wind and waves long after.

Lucas thought the true value of that senior student's agricultural fire-making charm was still going up.

Though it depended entirely on who was casting it. A seasoned wizard wouldn't set everything around him alight while playing with fire.

Lucas shook the thing he had fetched from the cabin in Snape's direction.

"Cover your ears, Professor!" he shouted.

Snape saw what Lucas was holding. He quickly used magic to block his ears.

At the same time, Lucas made ready and opened the compass.

Thick smoke swallows the last scrap of light, sulfur burns at the tips of your teeth,

The pendulum stops at the thirteenth stroke of midnight, your prayers are nothing but futile!

The chain the compass hung from swayed in the air. The compass met the rain, and the wall of sound surged suddenly louder.

Muggle death metal drowned out everything else.

Lucas and Snape couldn't hear it themselves, but they could see the very rhythm of the wind bending to follow it.

The compass needle wasn't fixed in any single direction. It swung toward whichever side something was still trying to board, and a wave of sound swept in behind it.

Welcome to hell, where there are no doors of salvation,

Only a burning desire boiling over, welcome to hell, smash it with bones,

Every sea creature attempting to board was knocked back. The unidentified shapes that had been circling in the air gradually withdrew.

The vessel held to its fixed course. The lane met the requirements of the charter, but no one had traveled it in years. There was no lighthouse in this stretch to track sea conditions, and so Lucas and Snape had hit the first real obstacle of their journey, they had sailed straight into a dangerous stretch of water.

But thank the Headmaster's gift.

Fifteen minutes later, an all-white catamaran burst through the mist.

Carrying its own brand of death metal, sails filled with an electrified spirit, it overtook the wizard sailing vessel that had taken the long way round.

The catamaran sailed on into the calm of the night. Its rock heart had not gone quiet, it carried the music far into the dark.

"John, do you think there's anyone on that ship?" The wizard on the sailing vessel was wearing a Muggle vacation floral shirt. Holding onto the mast, already thoroughly baptized by the extraordinary music, he murmured to himself.

"They came out of those waters? Merlin — that's hard to say. It's been a very long time since anyone living made it out of the rift. We should go notify the Ministry of Magic office!"

The wizard's wife had sharp eyes. She snatched the telescope from her husband and quickly stood down. "No, there are two wizards on board. They must be the sort who love adventure."

Lucas and Snape, arguably the two people in the entire world who hated adventure most, had no idea they were being assessed that way by a pair of passing wizards.

Lucas closed the compass and waited. Only when the movement of the sails had returned to normal did he lift the seal on his hearing.

Master and apprentice were both soaked through again.

Lucas looked at Snape with an expression of pure innocence, then glanced down at the compass, which had grown hot to the touch.

Headmaster Dumbledore was thousands of miles away, and yet had solved the problem.

Best not to ask too closely how.

"Go change." Snape gave Lucas a shove. "Unless you want steam coming out of your ears, go wash up. Now."

Snape sent Lucas ahead and checked the area around the vessel himself, making sure there were no leaks or damage.

Lucas got himself sorted quickly. By the time he was done, Snape had already gone to the bathroom in his cabin.

Lucas returned to the deck. Looking back, he could still see the edge of the stretch of water they had burst through — blue-grey mist churning and rolling, but unless you were inside it, you would never know how many uncanny things lurked within.

Lucas tied his hair back the way Snape did. In the darkness, he noticed several points of deep blue light had appeared, trailing the stern but not attaching themselves to it.

He watched quietly for a while. Snape came out, already tidied up.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Snape had only ever read about this in one book. This was the distinctive soul-form of wizards who had died at sea. They could become trapped in certain stretches of water, unable to escape by Portkey or Apparition, and in the end their souls were claimed by the raging sea. But if other people could pass through the waters where they had died, those wandering souls could be carried out with them.

The deep blue points of light were the last chains binding those wizards in place.

When an explorer saw them, it meant the trapped wizards had broken free completely and were entering the next stage of their journey.

Snape had always felt that the books in the Hogwarts library fell into two categories: the daydreams of idealists, and useful reference works.

But perhaps some things were not daydreams after all. Perhaps the world he had moved through before was simply too small.

"Professor?" Lucas tugged very gently at Snape's sleeve. He pointed at the lights. "May I?"

"I saw a description like this in a book called Atlas of the Seas in the school library." The book Lucas meant was the very same one Snape had read.

He had deliberately scanned the shelves and selected books that carried Snape's borrowing record.

It was a method Lucas used to maintain his relationship with his mentor, a fairly standard one, for him.

When he had read it, he had not imagined he would ever see the thing described with his own eyes.

That stretch of sea was perhaps far more terrifying than either of them had thought. The compass's magic, or the high-frequency rhythm it beat out, had probably driven some of the dangers off.

As for now, Lucas raised his wand. The book had said: if you should see these lights, send them a gust of wind, and let them leave freely.

He did.

➤ Next: God of Board Games