The blue light faded. They sailed on in silence for thirty sea miles, and the outline of an island gradually emerged.

The legendary wizarding island was shrouded in thick fog. But when the wizards focused their gaze upon it, the mist dispersed and the scene snapped into sudden clarity.

It was said that many enchantments surrounded the island to keep Muggles from wandering in.

Like the magical schools hidden within the European continent, any Muggle who passed by would see nothing but an abandoned oil platform. The magic would guide them around the island without their ever knowing.

Only wizards could make it ashore. This time there were no mishaps. The white vessel sailed with precision and docked in the berth reserved by the Ministry of Magic.

The two wizards disembarked and walked along the shore for a stretch. A lighthouse stood tall on the rocky coast ahead, and most of the wizards coming off their boats were making their way toward it in groups.

"You've already read the Ministry's guide to the island," Snape said, waiting until Lucas nodded before continuing. "I won't bother repeating the local customs and culture."

Lucas was a little disappointed, but he could cover this part himself. "The island's edge is quite far from the village. Wizards use the communal Floo Network relay built into the lighthouse. It also makes it easier for first-time visitors to choose where they want to arrive."

Snape gave a satisfied nod and started walking. Lucas followed.

As for the island's origins, legend had it that a group of wizards who refused to accept the Statute of Secrecy had seized the island before the law took effect, driven out the Muggles living there, and used magic to hide the whole place from the world.

In the long years that followed, more wizards joined them. They ensured the island never appeared on any Muggle map or record, and later carved out folded sea lanes around it to shelter magical creatures that might otherwise draw Muggle attention.

Lucas and Snape entered the lighthouse, paid the landing fee, and came to a stop before a map of the island.

They had no intention of staying the night. The visit served two purposes: to satisfy the terms of the ritual, and to pick up certain local specialty items.

Snape had a procurement list of Potions ingredients. By cutting out the middlemen and buying direct, he could save at least a third of the price in Galleons.

Their destination was therefore perfectly clear, the island's largest trading market.

After paying for two handfuls of Floo Powder that reeked of salt and raw fish, Snape and Lucas stepped into a fireplace decorated to look like an enormous shark's head.

Flames roared up. They tumbled out through the fireplace of a tavern on the other side.

The place was done in a Viking style. Enormous mounted fish lined the walls, and the rough stonework was studded with pirate flags and dragon bones.

Lucas followed Snape, weaving through a crowd of heavily drunk locals.

In a space that cramped, it was no surprise when they brushed against someone.

"Hey!" The bearded wizard who had been jostled spun around in fury.

The men around him burst into loud laughter. That earlier read had been wrong: he had simply been standing there, waiting for Snape to walk into him.

Snape looked back without expression. He had his own way of handling conflict in rough places like this.

Apologizing immediately was a fool's move. It would only excite that sort of person further.

Snape pressed a hand down onto Lucas's shoulder.

The bearded wizard looked the two of them over. "You're new here? Where are you from?"

The Translation Charm faithfully conveyed his meaning, including the mockery and provocation threading through his tone.

"Let us through." Snape's voice was flat. His wand was already in his hand, and there was not the slightest suggestion of compromise.

The corner of the tavern went quiet, as if the men were sizing Snape up.

"Hey! You walked into me — shouldn't you apologize first?" The bearded wizard broke the silence, swinging his thick, hairy arms until they were nearly in Snape's face. "And you brought a kid. Your son? Why does he look so blank?"

Because Lucas had shown no fear, he had become a target too.

Lucas stood quietly where Snape was holding him. It was just a tavern and a group of wizards. Nothing worth worrying about.

"Even if you won't apologize, you should at least compensate me for my losses." When the bearded wizard got none of the reaction he wanted, he finally came out with his real purpose. He shifted slightly to one side, revealing the table he had been blocking, and beside the enormous beer mugs sat a sixteen-sided die.

"You knocked into me and made me lose that round. You owe me!"

Lucas glanced at the layout on the table. They were playing a wizarding drinking game.

The standard version used a sixteen-sided die. Three to six players, with rewards and penalties decided by whatever number came up, layered over various stakes, bonuses, and forfeits.

The oafish wizard reached out and grabbed Snape by the arm.

Snape was in short sleeves. The man's hand closed directly around bare skin.

It had been a long time since anyone had dared to lay hands on Snape like that. The tip of his wand snapped up immediately and cracked out a transparent spell.

The bearded wizard barely dodged it. He fixed Snape with a vicious glare, and the men around him climbed to their feet.

"Gentlemen," Lucas said.

Even Snape's grip on his shoulder couldn't stop him. "What game are you playing? Can we join?"

The Potions professor looked down at the small wizard standing within his protective reach. His gaze was dangerous.

Lucas shot Snape a look that said, leave this to me.

Something may have been lost in the transmission. Snape did not release him, and he looked very much as though he wanted to take Lucas apart on the spot.

"Professor, I've run into this sort of thing in an Albanian tavern before... I actually have a bit of a talent for it." Lucas looked at Snape with a pleading expression.

Snape paused.

The only outcome he had witnessed from Lucas in an Albanian tavern was a single result.

A wizard built like a bear, treating Lucas like a long-lost brother, offering to hand over something of considerable value as a gift.

But this was the open sea. These wizards might have actually killed people.

Getting away cleanly wouldn't be difficult. Snape had brought some high-damage Potions, and he was confident he could get Lucas out safely either way.

By now the bearded wizard had heard Lucas's words through the Translation Charm. He exchanged a few words with his companions and broke into contemptuous laughter.

Lucas gave him a single cool glance.

Snape still had hold of Lucas. But after weighing up the track record, he eased his grip slightly.

And so Lucas, still within Snape's reach, walked up to the table where the game was in progress.

He climbed onto a stool and studied the board laid out before him.

Lucas picked up the die and turned it over in his hands. It seemed to be made from cuttlefish bone, some craftsmanship to it, solid weight, and when he shook it, he could hear the sound of the sea rolling inside.

The sixteen faces corresponded to numbers, while the meanings were carved in Latin across the tabletop.

The entries read: Calm Seas, Treasure Map, Pirate's Plunder, Siren's Song, Sea Mist, Whale's Escort, Shipwreck Debris, Shadow of the Sea Beast, Spatial Rift... and as the final entry, Poseidon's Blessing.

There was also an illustrated magical chart on the table, a three-dimensional rolling ocean, waves in constant motion. The beer mugs had all been pushed clear of its edges. Lucas found the piece corresponding to the bearded wizard's character.

Games like this were all variations on the same idea. Sea or land, it was just a different skin over the same bones.

Only the dice decided who won.

"The new kid wants to give it a try!" A rough voice rang out close to Lucas, whoever spoke seemed to be the one running things here.

Snape's brow furrowed, and the hand on Lucas's shoulder tightened again.

"Professor, that hurts." Lucas murmured. His words drew laughter from the wizards around them.

"We can let you have a go — but what's your stake?" The wizard who had spoken carried some real weight in this group. He matched the old seafaring legends exactly: his left arm had been replaced by an iron fishhook.

"Potions." Snape produced a bottle of Breathing Draught.

"Take it, and gills grow. You can breathe underwater for a full day." He set the bottle on the wooden table.

The room went quiet. Not just their corner, the whole tavern. Wizards at other tables who had been half-listening for entertainment all turned to look.

"Bet against him! But he plays on using Merk's character."

"Merk's nearly gambled away his underwear already!" "What are you on about — he doesn't even own any underwear!"

Lucas turned the die over and over in his hands. The soft hush of sea waves rolled and tumbled inside it.

➤ Next: Poseidon's Blessing

Chapter 271 - Poseidon's Blessing

"Even if I win, can I take the stakes? Old Merk looks like he's about to lose — even without anyone bumping into him, the most he can manage is..." Lucas pointed to the player on his left, "...winning that thing."

A harpoon card sat on the table.

"You can." The wizard with the hook arm agreed.

"I want Merk to agree to that himself." Lucas wasn't buying it.

Snape's eyelid twitched. He was beginning to understand how Lucas earned respect in a tavern. Hell, where had this little creature learned all this.

Completely out of place.

"Merk!" The hook came down hard on the bearded wizard's shoulder.

Merk produced a smile uglier than crying. Merk shrank back slightly but still didn't move away from the table.

"You can re-roll for Merk's turn." The hook wizard looked very reasonable about it.

In reality, he didn't want complications. If Lucas skipped this round, he'd be knocked out of the game next round entirely.

The wizard standing behind Lucas was not easy to deal with. Better to let them lose willingly.

Lucas shrugged and threw the dice.

The sixteen-sided die rolled across the ocean chart, and the sound of waves rose to meet the whitecaps printed on the paper.

A moment later, one face lit up. Lucas had rolled a 'Treasure Map.'

Positive number, Lucas gained three chips, and Merk's marker moved back from the edge of the chart onto the main shipping lane.

The player on his left gritted their teeth and lifted the dice from the dripping chart.

A faint ripple of magical energy. No one around them spoke. The player rolled, 'Whale Escort', positive number. A massive whale surged up from the chart and shoved Lucas's piece far back; the waves churned, and Merk's piece nearly capsized.

Then it was the hook wizard's turn.

He tossed the dice, 'Sea Mist', neutral number. Fog rolled in and swallowed Merk whole.

A wave of boos from the crowd.

Some cheated. Some relied on sleight of hand.

Lucas had a clear read on all three players. He reached out to grab the dice from the chart. Snape stopped him. "That thing is dangerous."

Lucas turned back obediently and made his promise with complete sincerity. "I know what I'm doing, Professor."

Snape did not let go. He fixed Lucas with a warning stare.

"Let the two Brits have their little whisper!" Merk shouted, egging them on, and the atmosphere instantly livened up.

Lucas was well used to the crude, foul-mouthed atmosphere of taverns. He simply filed away the faces of the few who had been particularly excessive.

Though Merk wasn't entirely wrong.

To placate his guardian, and keep his cover, Lucas knelt up on his stool and, using the added height, leaned close to Snape's ear. "I can choose which number comes up."

Snape was already irritated by the noise. He cast Muffliato around them. "I'm saying it's dangerous to put your hand on that chart!"

"Have you forgotten? My eyes..." Lucas blinked at him.

Snape recalled Lucas's Niffler gift, the ability to see the value in objects.

He was still about to refuse when Lucas, taking the silence as agreement, thrust a hand straight into the fog.

The onlookers let out low, excited gasps, as though they already knew what was coming, just waiting for the young wizard's fingers to be swallowed by the sea.

But nothing happened.

The young wizard's slender, knuckle-defined hand reached steadily into the mist and plucked out the sixteen-sided die without incident.

To the astonishment of the drunks, Lucas rolled a second time. The die spun for an unusually long while, nearly making a full circuit of the chart. The crowd's breathing slowed. The die came to rest dead in the center.

'Poseidon's Blessing.'

Lucas looked up and smiled at the hook wizard. Merk's piece burst through the fog, set sail, and with Poseidon himself clearing the way, made straight for the heart of the island.

'Poseidon's Blessing' carried the lowest probability on the sixteen-sided die. Since this game had been set up at the table, it had appeared exactly once before.

Per the rules, the winner had the right to demand one additional thing from anyone at the gambling table.

This was why the hook wizard had coaxed and cajoled Lucas into sitting down, because this game contained a magical contract.

Gamblers did not play make-believe.

The room fell quiet again. Snape noted the difference between this silence and the one before.

He also noticed that Lucas had fixed his eyes on the hook wizard.

The man laughed openly. "You're a brave one! Take your prize — Old Merk won't give you any trouble. I'll vouch for him myself!"

Lucas did not move.

Merk's piece had already landed on the island at the heart of the sea. It suddenly shifted, taking on Lucas's appearance.

The magic only recognized the piece belonging to whoever had rolled, someone had used a Confundus Charm specifically to deceive the game table.

The scheme worked like this: wait for a stranger to sit down, someone who hadn't noticed the contract embedded in the game. The moment they rolled their first die, thinking the worst outcome was losing some possession, it was already too late.

This was why Lucas liked places like this tavern. A crowd of wizards who had never studied magic carefully, playing games that were anything but new.

"And?" Lucas rapped on the table.

The game was over. The chart turned remarkably docile under Lucas's hand, but the other two players' pieces hadn't left it.

Lucas swept the chips in front of both players toward himself, these ought to be exchangeable for coins.

There was also the harpoon card and the ship card. He collected those too.

Lucas turned the sixteen-sided die between his fingers and glanced at Snape. "Professor, do you think they've killed anyone?"

Snape hadn't spoken yet.

"No — absolutely not!" Merk had already launched into a loud explanation.

Merk knew a little English, and now it came out in a stammering rush. "I'm just a fisherman!"

"Just trying to frighten you — just wanted a bit of money..." Merk scrambled to soften it.

"And?" The tables had turned. Snape looked Merk up and down, making an assessment of whether this wizard had killed before.

"He stays behind to wash dishes in the back kitchen." Lucas added quietly. He tapped the clean glass on the table, that level of washing was clearly not done by a local.

Merk choked.

"What can you make them do?" Snape inquired about the limits. He was already planning to interrogate Lucas thoroughly once they were outside.

But for now, Snape produced the cold sneer that sent Hogwarts students fleeing in terror. Right now he wanted to see what could be wrung out of these worthless wizards.

Lucas rested his chin on one hand and reached out to toy with the two pieces still on the chart.

"Anything at all." The child moved the pieces with careless fingers, as though they might be snapped in two at any moment. That uncertainty cast a shadow over the entire tavern.

Snape caught the hint and pressed further. "Such as?"

Lucas made it plainer, drawing on other people's fates by way of example. "I could make them end up like Walter, or like Marcus."

Walter was the vampire professor who had died. Since then, word had gradually spread that the Defence Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts was cursed.

One professor resigning was a coincidence. Two professors leaving in succession was something else entirely.

Using Walter as the example indicated that the contract could cost someone their life.

Marcus was Lucas's dormitory roommate, one of the Slytherin students punished most severely the previous year. Most often it meant reporting to Argus Filch; occasionally being made to copy out textbooks. The usual reasons: cutting corners on essays, running in the corridors, getting caught out after hours by Snape.

Using Marcus as the example indicated that the contract could deliver a thorough and very unpleasant punishment.

Both wizards' hands had drifted to their wands. They were wary of what Lucas might say next and desperately wanted to fight back, to stop the child before the contract locked in.

But the wizard standing behind Lucas was not someone to tangle with. If they made a move and got pinned down by him, they'd be in a very bad position.

And this was exactly where the unpredictability of letting a young child win the game made itself felt. Who knew what a child that age would demand.

Snape made no immediate choice. He wanted to see what Lucas would decide.

Lucas had already made up his mind long ago.

If alone, the plan would have been to take one organ from each of them.

Because it had to be accounted for: if it had been Lucas who lost, there would have been no mercy on account of appearance or age.

But Snape was here. So Lucas reined it in.

"Do you really want me to say it?" Lucas was practically itching to.

That look made even Snape less certain.

But the Potions professor nodded all the same, and after nodding, waited a moment before adding, unable to help himself: "You are a Slytherin."

He seemed to feel this conveyed a demand that was slightly too vague, but he had made up his mind not to add any further hints.

The hook wizard looked at this mismatched pair of foreign wizards with a complicated expression.

Fortunately, Lucas didn't keep everyone in suspense long. A decision was made, and one finger pointed at Merk.

"Both hands are intact. He will go in place of whoever lost at the previous gambling table and take over that person's punishment."

Then came a look at the hook wizard. Lucas knew this one was the real schemer, never mind all the smooth talk from the sidelines, it had all been fanning the flames.

"I have no property." The hook wizard steeled himself. Merk's punishment had given him a glimpse of hope.

But Lucas had no intention of letting him off.

A glance around at the other wizards in the room. Most of them, seeing that the foreign wizard wasn't going to demand lives, had relaxed and settled in to enjoy the show.

"I don't want your property." Lucas had no interest in other people's wallets. "For the next ten years, every time you encounter a foreign wizard, you must greet them, and tell them you will answer any question they ask — and you cannot lie."

The hook wizard's face twitched once.

Relief at this childish punishment flickered across it, barely suppressed.

The matter was settled. Snape dragged Lucas out of the tavern.

Lucas stumbled as he was hauled out of that smoke-filled, raucous place. They glanced back to see two stocky, disheveled figures leaving the tavern.

But after only a few steps, the bearded wizard was yanked back by magical force. A commotion broke out inside, and then a wizard in ragged clothes, bent and stooped, came running out in tears.

Arms spread wide, face turned up to the sun, weeping, and then slowly sinking to both knees.

The hook wizard, who had barely taken a few steps, turned back around. With warm enthusiasm came a greeting to this wizard, along with a self-introduction: a wizard who could not tell lies.

After that, whatever story unfolded in the tavern stayed right where it belonged.

"Professor, do you think the punishments I chose were fair?" Lucas clutched a pile of chips and walked alongside Snape, scanning the street as they went for any place to exchange them.

The chips were marked with an island pattern. There had to be an exchange point somewhere nearby.

Snape was drowsy in the sunshine and had absolutely no desire to comment on Lucas's childish punishments.

The whole experience had been a little too much like a fairy tale, a wizard walks into a tavern, gets swindled, escapes through wit, and punishes the villain wizards on the way out.

A child's world.

What Snape had in mind for punishment? Clearing out those two wizards' storerooms. Emptying their wallets. Making them bleed.

Lucas had spent all this time living at school. These things simply wouldn't occur to a child.

The two of them walked into the shade, and the tavern was no longer in sight. Snape stopped abruptly and pushed Lucas up against the wall.

"Professor!" Lucas rubbed the shoulder that had knocked against the stone. Snape's expression had already shifted from overcast to dark.

Reckoning time.

"Tell me about this remarkable gift of yours. You seem quite practiced." Snape could well imagine that if he hadn't been there, Lucas would have talked some adult into handing over a free drink without breaking a sweat.

Lucas thought: as expected. Long since prepared for questions. A few tavern games, the worst outcome was a telling-off.

The range of Snape's punishments was already fairly well mapped out.

"You want me to tell you I was born with a talent for playing table games in taverns? Intimidating adult wizards? Making dangerous wagers?" Overcast turning to light rain.

Lucas split the question apart. "Mainly, those game pieces were all alchemical objects, so I was able to handle them fairly easily."

"And I was clearly the one being intimidated by the adult wizards." A note of grievance.

"And I only discovered the dangerous wager after the game was already over." A quick glance at Snape, expression shifting from light rain to moderate rain. "You were right beside me. I trusted you to protect me."

Severe thunderstorm warning cancelled.

Snape opened his mouth. For a moment, no voice came.

Just then, Lucas felt something stir deep in his chest, a faint, dull itch.

Like a hidden thread being drawn out from somewhere inside him, someone giving it a light pluck. The thread trembled, and a feeling of irritation came through.

➤ Next: Emotional Connection