JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

       'Good question,' Albus agreed, frowning. 'I guess we're being powered somehow. Look at the smokestack.'

       Sure enough, a steady stream of black smoke was issuing from the smokestack's high, black funnel. James shrugged, turning back to the ocean view.

'Coal, you think?' Ralph mused. 'I wouldn't have expected that.'

       'Maybe it's a magical fire,' Lily replied reasonably. 'One that doesn't need any fuel or anything.'

Lucy nodded. 'Like goblin's spark. That'd make sense.'

       Wind capered over the ship, pushing in from the ocean and whipping James' hair around his head. He grinned into it, and then turned and leaned on the railing, looking toward the shore as it crept alongside the ship. The Gwyndemere was passing the other docks and piers still, and James watched the dozens of ships where they clustered along the bank, dizzying in their sizes and variety. Workers thronged amongst them, moving on the piers and gangways, silent in the distance. Finally, the Gwyndemere began to angle away from the shore, and the wharves and enormous cargo ships began to grow faint in the morning's haze.

       A whistle sounded high above. James glanced up and saw a man in what looked like a wooden bucket, attached to the main mast. The whistle protruded from between his lips and he held a long collapsible telescope to one eye. As James watched, the man lowered the telescope and spat out the whistle, which dangled around his neck on a length of string.

'Now exiting the Muggle mainland,' he bellowed. 'Entering international magical waters.'

       A deckhand, whistling cheerfully, passed close behind the five travelers where they gathered near the railing. James turned to watch as the man bent, grabbed the handle of a large deck hatch, and heaved it open.

       'All right, Dodongo, you heard the man,' the deckhand called down into the darkness below-decks. 'Put it out then. Don't make me come down there.'

       James and the rest drifted toward the deckhand and peered down into the shadows. The interior of the hold was huge, taking up most of the ship's bow. Portholes illuminated an enormous, hairy shape where it lounged in the hold, taking up most of the space. James blinked in shock. The creature was like a gorilla, but grown to monumental, titanic proportions. Its great leathery face peered up at the open hatch, sucking its lips thoughtfully. Its feet clutched the pedals of a complicated, brass mechanism, turning it easily. The mechanism, in turn, operated a driveshaft that extended through the rear of the hold, apparently driving the ship's propeller. To James increasing surprise, the gigantic ape seemed to be smoking an equally gigantic cigar, puffing black smoke up into a funnel- shaped tube.

'Picked him up years ago,' the deckhand explained, planting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. 'Found him wandering some lost island in the South Pacific. Someone had the crazy idea that he'd make a great attraction on the mainland, make us all millionaires. Problem was, once we got him on board, he never wanted to leave. You know the old joke about where a thirty thousand-pound gorilla sits, right? Wherever he bloody well pleases.'

       James, Ralph, Izzy, Albus, and Lucy looked from the deckhand to the enormous gorilla again. Dodongo pedaled happily, making gentle ook noises to himself and puffing his monstrous cigar.

       'Hi!' the deckhand called again, cupping his hands to his mouth. 'I told you to put that thing out, didn't I? It's the last one we've got on board until Bordeaux. What else you going to use to fake smokestack smoke, eh? Banana peels?'

       'I guess,' Lucy said in a small voice, 'there is a bit of a difference between a Muggle ship and a magical ship.'

       The first leg of the ocean journey progressed swiftly. James explored the ship with his fellow travelers, finding the galley kitchens, the aft storage hold, a dozen small but meticulously dapper staterooms, and even the captain's quarters, which the crew of teenaged witches and wizards (and Izzy) barged into quite by accident while chasing each other through the narrow corridors. The captain's rooms were in the rear of the ship, above the hold, with a curving bank of windows that overlooked the ship's boiling wake. It would have been a very interesting place to explore, what with its framed maps, brass lanterns, and bookshelves cluttered with curious nautical tools and artifacts, except for the fact that the captain himself was there, looking up from his desk with a mixture of annoyance and weary patience. James had apologized as quickly and formally as he knew how, backing out of the room and herding the others behind him.

       Most of the day, however, was spent up on the decks, lounging in the hazy sunlight and watching the crewmen manage the ship's complicated rigging. James was only slightly surprised to learn that the deckhands sang songs while they worked, raising their voices in unison so that the sound carried over all the decks, clear and cheerful in the gusting winds.

'So,' Albus said, leaning against the high stern railing, 'I wonder if this is the poop deck?'

Izzy tittered, but Petra rolled her eyes. 'That joke wasn't funny the first time, Albus. It doesn't get any better with age.'

       'I'm not joking,' Albus said, raising his eyebrows with guileless innocence. 'I'm just asking a question. Every ship has a poop deck. It's a known fact. I'm just trying to make this an educational experience.'

'Yes,' Lucy nodded. 'Because that's so very like you.'

       'I like the songs,' Ralph said, looking up at the masts as a pair of crewman climbed and capered, singing in harmony. James couldn't help noticing that the sails were still furled, lashed neatly to the strange, articulated masts.

       Albus smirked. 'Mum says the songs are nice, so long as you don't listen to the actual words.'

       'Which only makes you pay even closer attention,' James agreed. 'I especially like the one about the old dead pirates fighting over a doubloon, chopping off bits of each other until there's nothing left but a bunch of skeletal hands hopping around, gripping cutlasses.'

       'A lot of them do seem to have a similar theme,' Petra agreed. 'A lot of dead pirates, barrels of rum, cursed lost treasures, that sort of thing.'

       'I heard Merlin and Dad talking about it at lunch,' Albus said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. 'Merlin says ever since the International Magical Police have cracked down on wizard piracy, a lot of the pirates have had to turn to more honest work. Most of them take jobs on ships like this. I bet these blokes are all former privateers themselves! You think?'

       Ralph squinted up at the men in the masts. 'I'd have expected more peglegs and parrots,' he shrugged.

Albus rolled his eyes.

       As the afternoon wore on, Petra and Izzy went below-decks to have tea and unpack. Albus wandered off in search of deckhands to grill about their nefarious former lives, and James, Ralph, and Lucy meandered their way to the bow, where they found James' dad, Professor Longbottom, and Merlinus Ambrosius watching the seas and talking.

'Did you see the big gorilla?' James asked as the adults greeted them.

       Harry nodded. 'The captain took us down to meet him. He's very intelligent. Likes popcorn. Apparently he's the primary mode of propulsion on the landward ends of the journey.'

'The captain says it keeps him from getting fat and lazy,' Neville added, smiling.

'You met the captain too?' Lucy asked, peering up at the men.

       'He's an old wizard's navy man,' Neville answered. 'And a distant relative of mine. Knew my parents, way back when I was a baby. I haven't seen him in decades, but still, it's nice to connect with the old family