FicWad

Part III: Preparation


Walking shoulder to shoulder between Ron and Hermione, Harry Potter gazed around in wonder at the strange ship where he would be spending the next several months of his life. Like Hermione Weasley had in the future, he found himself comparing the experience to his first view of Hogwarts, though in his case Hogwarts still won out by a wide margin for sheer emotional impact.

The first place they'd seen upon arrival was the hangar bay, a huge cavernous chamber which rivaled Hogwarts' Great Hall in size. Harry and Hermione had been speechless; Ron's only comment was that it would make a great place for quidditch. John Crichton's oldest son D'Argo heard the comment, and he and Ron were still deep in discussion of Ron's favorite sport, D'Argo walking backwards to face them as they moved through the halls with the utter assurance of one who knew the terrain intimately.

Zhaan, the younger dark-haired daughter of the Crichtons, was walking ahead of them as well, facing forward but glancing back every once in a while to make a comment or simply watch the newcomers.

The large group, consisting of everyone who had been at the meeting at Godric's Hollow, was given the full tour, including a visit to Pilot's den, various personal chambers and workshops, and finally to Command, where the forward viewscreen showed the half-lit 'dark' side of the Moon.

Standing at one of the forward consoles when they walked in was a strange-looking woman with white hair and grayish-white skin. Her eyes, when she turned to look, were cat-like, vertical slits of black in a pale pupil.

"Chiana!" Crichton greeted. "Come meet our guests. You may recognize Hermione W-Granger. Next to her is Harry Potter. Then we have Remus Lupin and Tonks. The redheads are all Weasley's: Arthur, his oldest son Bill, youngest son Ron, and the twins, Fred and George."

Everyone else simply nodded to the strange alien woman as they were introduced, but the twins stepped forward boldly, their electric green dragon-hide jackets glinting in the reflected sunlight.

"Pleased to meet you, m'lady."

"I am Gred, and this is my brother Forge."

"Proprietors of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Purveyors of pranks and laughter since 1995."

The two gave deep, flourished bows, matching grins on both of their faces. Harry looked at Ron and rolled his eyes; the twins did this act for any attractive woman who entered their shop. It was almost a trademark for them now.

Chiana had been watching the two warily, eyes darting back and forth as the speaker switched. She slowly relaxed as the banter progressed and smiled when they were done. "Drad!" she replied, stepping forward and invading the twins' personal space with sensual grace. "So, tell me, boys," she purred, running a finger down the front of the green leather, "where can I snurch me one of these jackets?"

"Chiana," John called out warningly, in a voice that implied that this wasn't the first time. "Down, girl."

The white-haired woman backed away slightly, but her pout in John's direction was completely unrepentant. She and the twins continued to converse more sedately as she led them around the command deck pointing out various things.

Harry turned to Remus and Tonks, who had so far been following along with the group without saying much. "Moony, would you be willing to stay and train us? You were the best DADA professor we ever had."

Remus looked uncomfortable. "Harry..." he started tentatively. "I'd love to, this is an amazing place and I'd like nothing better than to spend more time with you. But you're all going to be stuck on this admittedly rather large vessel for several months. I doubt the Crichtons, or anyone else here for that matter, will want a werewolf running loose on their ship every full moon. I could hurt someone."

The younger man nodded; he hadn't really thought of that. "Would it be all right if I asked the Crichtons about it?"

Remus paused, but the pleading look in Harry's eyes broke down his reticence. "Okay, but I'm coming with you. I don't want you making light of the problem. They deserves to know the whole truth before they decide."

John listened to both Harry and Remus' issue, his eyes growing wide at the discovery that werewolves were more than just the stuff of bad horror movies. Once he got past that, though, he enjoyed watching the quiet argument that broke out between the two as Harry tried to put the situation in the best light possible and Remus countered with every horrific detail of his condition.

After about five minutes, John cleared his throat, bringing them to a halt. Beneath all Harry's rhetoric and Remus' fear, John could see one thing very clearly: both of them wanted Remus to stay. He looked at his wife, quirking an eyebrow in silent question. Aeryn just shrugged and nodded. She didn't know anything about werewolves, but they'd dealt with dangerous guests aboard Moya before.

John turned back to the two wizards. "Gentlemen...Mr. Lupin, I don't think we'll have any problem accommodating you. Moya was once a prison transport and the cells were designed to withstand a Luxan in full hyper-rage. I think they can handle you. We'd be happy to have you stay aboard and teach the kids what they need to learn, magically speaking."

Remus looked at Harry, as if seeking reassurance that he was still wanted. The young wizard grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, dispelling all doubt.

"I'll be staying too, if you don't object Mr. Crichton." Tonks had watched the whole proceeding, keeping off to the side.

"You'd be most welcome, Ms. Tonks," Aeryn assured her.

"Tonks!" Remus gasped. "What about your job? You can't take months off without notice; they'll fire you."

The metamorph gave a wry smile. "They nearly did that several times back when I was active with the Order, when I was late for shifts or couldn't give a truthful accounting of my whereabouts. And you know what? I didn't care then and I don't care now. It's just a job. Defeating You-Know...I mean V-Voldemort...that's more important. The prophecy doesn't say anything about the Aurors or the MLEs defeating him. It's about Harry. So the best way for me to help is to see that Harry is trained. If we win, I think Scrimgeour will take me back. If we don't, I doubt I'll be in any position to care."

Harry grinned suddenly. "And if the Ministry won't take you back, I hear Hogwarts might be in the market for a Defense professor. You'd be brilliant!"

Tonks gave a wide smile. "I dunno, I might need some help with that. Maybe I can talk someone into helping me out, someone with experience." She batted her eyes coyly at Remus, who blushed and muttered something inaudible.

Ron and Hermione came over from where they'd been talking to D'Argo and Zhaan Crichton. "Did I hear right?" Hermione asked. "Tonks and Professor Lupin are going to stay and teach us?"

"Yep," Harry replied.

Suddenly from behind John Crichton came the sound of throat clearing, in stereo. John turned to find the two red-headed twins standing nearby, looking nervous.

"Mr. Crichton."

"Mrs. Crichton."

"We'd like to ask you something."

The Crichtons turned to give the twins their full attention. John noticed Chiana standing off to one side, swaying in her usual nervous manner. "Go ahead."

"We'd like to stay, too."

"Not that we'd be much use teaching."

"Never took our NEWTs, after all."

"But we've got other reasons."

"You see, Fred and I run a little business down in Diagon Alley, a joke shop."

"We make magical pranks and other things. But we've also got a little side-line."

"We've been making weapons for the Order, things to use against the Death Eaters."

"Thing is, though, the Death Eaters don't take too kindly to our work."

"Downright rude about it."

"We've lost three production facilities to attacks so far, and had two employees killed."

"So what we're proposing is to move our operation up to Moya here."

"We can leave Lee in charge of the store for a while."

"If we stockpile enough material--"

"--Chiana says your transport pod can carry more than enough--"

"--we can work safely and develop all sorts of new toys for the Order and for ickle Harrikins here."

John waited for a moment to be sure they were finished, then rolled his neck a bit to relieve the stiffness from watching the bouncing ball of the twins oratorical style. "You boys practice that, don't you?"

"Who--"

"--us?"

The matching mischievous grins told the true story; John chuckled. Having these boys around would certainly make life interesting. And having a few more people near his kids' ages wouldn't be a bad thing. He often felt a bit guilty about how little interaction they'd been able to have with their peers, growing up on a Leviathan. "The more the merrier," he finally replied.




Stars danced before his eyes as Harry Potter slammed back against the barely cushioned surface of the workout mat. He blinked, trying to breath as he struggled to get up onto his elbows. Reaching up with one hand, he rubbed his bruised chin, testing to see if the jaw still worked.

"Ow," was his only comment.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Potter," their instructor noted from the sidelines. "I have seen trained Peacekeepers knocked unconscious by a Pantak jab, and from my experience with John I had thought humans even more susceptible."

Harry didn't bother to reply. Most of the smart answers running through his head would just earn him more laps around Moya anyway, and it felt so very good to be lying down and being still right now.

He was pretty sure he had never worked so hard in his life, and this was even taking into account the long summer days of chores the Dursleys had set him during his childhood. The day had started with a sudden wake-up call that had had Harry's heart pumping and wand poised before his feet even touched the deck. Aeryn Sun had analyzed the reaction with a look, nodded her approval, and then gone to dump the still-sleeping Ron onto the floor. They and Hermione were given two hundred microts (somewhere around five minutes) to use the facilities and dress for a day of physical exercise, before being exhorted into a long run through the seemingly endless corridors and tiers of Moya.

None of them were completely out of shape, mind. Their hunt for horcruxes had involved a fair amount of hiking through forests and climbing stairs to out-of-the-way hiding places. They'd even done some running, though rarely of their own free will. Usually, someone was chasing them.

After the run, they were allowed breakfast, and although the food was somewhat alien to their English palates, it was filling and gave them enough energy to continue. The rest of the morning had been drills and exercises in hand-to-hand combat, interspersed with more running, and culminating in a sparring match that left Harry in his current position flat on his back. He was bruised, sore, soaked in sweat, and utterly exhausted. And it wasn't even time for lunch yet.

Within just a few minutes of Harry's collapse, Ron and Hermione joined him on the mat, courtesy of their own opponents, D'Argo and Zhaan. Aeryn stepped over and looked at the three magical teens, her expression half amused and half exasperated. "All right," she observed to her two children. "That will be sufficient for today. We don't want to kill them on their first day." She turned to Harry and friends. "There's about an arn until midmeal for you to rest; I believe your magical tutors want some time with you in the afternoon."

Harry brought his hand up in a sloppy British salute, still lying on the floor. "Aye-aye, ma'am." Hermione gave a quiet snort of amusement, while Ron just looked puzzled. Salutes were not a wizarding tradition.

Aeryn just shook her head. "It will get easier in a weeken or two." She patted each of her children on the shoulder briefly and then walked out the door.

D'Argo and Zhaan collapsed to the mat the second their mother was out of sight. "Frell," Zhaan gasped quietly. "I'd forgotten how much fun this was."

Harry chuckled at the heavy sarcasm. "Glad to know I'm not the only one who thinks so."

There was a long silence as the five teens caught their breaths. "I hate to say this," D'Argo finally broke in, "but if we don't get up and move a little, we will really be in pain by morning."

"Feel like a bit of flying, mate?" Ron asked, turning to Harry.

Harry thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Not right now. I'm too tired to enjoy it."

Hermione, who was lying close by, quipped "Who are you, and what have you done with Harry Potter?" She reached over and put her hand on Harry's forehead. "Yes, as I suspected, he's ill."

Harry batted her hand away weakly, laughing.

"Well, even if he doesn't want to join you," D'Argo said, "I'd like to come see these magic flying brooms of yours."

Ron and D'Argo soon headed off to Ron's quarters to get his broom for a flight around Moya's hangar bay, chattering away about the various sports they each knew and enjoyed.

After another few minutes of quiet, Hermione decided to go find Muoma, whose library of history books from Hermione's older counterpart was a nearly irresistible lure.

Zhaan turned to Harry after the rest had gone. "I hate to admit it, but my brother's right. We do need to move a little. Would you like to go see the Terrace? Dad tells me the view is 'awesome'."

"Sure." Harry groaned as he clambered slowly to his feet, every muscle protesting. "I think I waited too long to move."

"Probably." Zhaan winced a bit herself as she got up. "It's a bit of a walk up to the Terrace, that will loosen us up."

They spent the journey up several tiers and across the length of the ship sharing stories of their respective childhoods, and discovered that they had much in common. Harry was "the Boy-Who-Lived", stared at and whispered about wherever he went, and hunted by a madman since the day of his birth. Zhaan was the daughter of John Crichton, a man both honored and feared for his dramatic resolution to the Peacekeeper-Scarran War. She, too, had spent too much of her childhood suffering the unwanted attention of strangers, both positive and negative.

Harry told her about being entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the media attention, the third task, and the rebirth of Voldemort. Zhaan, in turn, told him about the two times she had been kidnapped as a child, once by a vengeful Scarran half-breed who wished to force her father to use the wormhole weapon again and wipe out the Scarran race, and the other time by an ambitious planetary ruler who sought to improve his reputation by marrying her to his eldest son.

When they arrived at the proper deck, the door to the Terrace was standing open. Had it been closed, Zhaan explained, it was a signal that the deck was in use and the occupant or occupants wanted privacy. It was a rule on Moya that had been enacted after Zhaan and her brother had interrupted their parents there one too many times.

She led Harry out onto the open deck, leaving the door open behind them. Harry's jaw dropped open at the view, which wasn't the one he'd been expecting. To his right, filling half of the sky over their heads, was the huge red, orange, and white colossus of Jupiter. To their left, a much smaller sphere of mottled yellow, close enough to see active volcanoes erupting on its surface.

"Wha--" Harry was speechless for a moment as he took in the view. It was gorgeous. Breathtaking. Awesome, to quote John Crichton. Nothing, in the magic world or out of it, would ever match this sight. "What are we doing here?" he finally managed to ask in a small voice.

"Pilot asked Dad last night if Moya could move further out in the solar system where she could drop the invisibility cloak. She could have kept it up the whole time, but it's a strain we don't need to put on her. Right now, we're on the other side of the sun from Earth, but we could still get back there in a few hundred microts, so it's not really a problem."

"Wow."

Zhaan chuckled and looked around. "Yeah, I'll admit it's pretty impressive. Not many populated systems have gas giants that big. If they're too close to the sun, they tend to tear apart the inner planets, like this one did to the one that's now your asteroid belt. There's a fair bit of radiation, sitting this close -- don't worry, we're shielded. Moya's enjoying it, like a warm bath after a chilly day."

"Sounds like you know a fair bit about astronomy. We studied it in school, but not nearly to that level of detail. I know more about hippogriffs and devil's snare than I do about Mars and Jupiter."

Zhaan shrugged. "I guess we just picked stuff up as we went along, more than anything. It's Dad's subject, so he liked pointing things out and explaining them when we were kids. We didn't spend a lot of time on planets, so I don't know much biology that I didn't get from books."

"I can't believe you got to spend your life out here, seeing things like this. I mean, I still think the magical world is amazing, but this...the scale is just so far outside comprehension. To a wizard, Jupiter is a small, bright disk seen through a telescope, with some tiny pinpoints for moons, and Hogwarts Castle might be the largest thing they've ever seen. Muggles study the universe far more than Wizards; I feel like I've missed so much."

"Well," Zhaan pointed out, "you do have one advantage over Earth's non-magical citizens. At least you aren't under the delusion that humans are the only intelligent creatures in the universe."



The wizards and witches had been aboard Moya now for twelve solar days. The Weasley twins had disappeared into the maze of the ship's maintenance and storage bays, and only the occasional explosion or appearance at a meal gave evidence of their presence. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still struggling with the physical aspects of their training, but were improving, and they were picking up spells and techniques for magical dueling faster than Remus and Tonks could believe, out of sheer determination. Tonks confessed to Moony her belief that each of them would be able to beat her in nine duels out of ten inside six months, and Harry within three.

Tonight, however, lessons had been cut short. Back on Earth, the moon was approaching full, so Moony had gone to the secure cell Moya had prepared for his use for transformation nights. It was on a lower tier, far from the sleeping quarters used by the others, so that he would not disturb them and so that, should the cell security fail, Moya could lock off the entire section to isolate him.

At breakfast the next morning, Harry expected to see an irritable and exhausted Remus Lupin, if he saw him at all. Instead, Moony came bounding into the Center Chamber with the widest smile Harry had ever seen him wearing, hand in hand with an equally ecstatic Tonks. He rushed over and pulled Harry up out of his seat into a rib-cracking hug, swinging him around and around like a small child.

"I'm free! I'm free!"

Harry just gaped like a fish, unable to speak. His arms flailed helplessly. Thankfully, Tonks came to his rescue after a few moments, grabbing Moony's arm and stopping the spinning.

"Remus, honey, you might want to let the poor boy breathe."

Moony dropped Harry to his feet gently, looking somewhat abashed but no less cheerful. "Sorry, Cub, got a bit carried away."

Harry looked at him expectantly. "What, did Tonks agree to marry you or something?"

Remus' eyes widened in shock. He looked back and forth between Harry and the highly amused Tonks, stuttering, "Um, no, she hasn't...I mean, I haven't asked...not that I don't want...but we're not..."

Tonks, taking pity, reached up to put a finger against Remus' lips, silencing his babble. "Just tell him, Remus."

Moony's grin grew wide again. "I didn't transform last night!"

"What? Moony, that's wonderful! But how...I mean why...."

"Of course!" Hermione burst out. "I should have realized. We're millions of miles away from the Moon here. How could it possibly have any influence?"

Ron shook his head, confused. "But there's moons here...bunches of 'em."

"They're not Earth's moon, which is what drives the lycanthropic transformation. As long as we're out here away from Earth, Remus should be free of it."

Moony nodded. "I should have realized something was off earlier; usually I get very cranky and achy the day before the full moon, but I felt fine yesterday. It never occurred to me to wonder why."

Later that day, as the teens were making their way back from their morning of physical training, a loud explosion and the sound of spell fire brought them all to a halt. They looked around, weapons and wands drawn, trying to locate the sounds, a task made difficult by the echoes in the hallways.

"George, duck!"

"Get it off me!"

The sounds of the twins' voices were faint, sounding from down a darkened corridor. The five teens took off in that direction at a fast jog, D'Argo sending a call for assistance through his coms to Pilot.

Harry noted in passing as they ran that the walls here were darker, marred with irregularities and lacking most of the accessories that the normal corridors had, like lights and ventilation controls. He shrugged it off for the moment, though; whatever was attacking Fred and George was a more urgent concern.

As they rounded the last corner, they saw the two identical redheads locked in battle with something that looked like a giant green snitch, which was zooming around the corridor at high speed and attempting to smash into them like a bludger. The twins were firing spells wildly, but the object was dodging spells from George and apparently shielded from the Fred's attacks.

Harry watched the scene for a few seconds, evaluating. The pinpoint spells the twins were using were either bouncing off or too easily avoided. "/Incarcerous/!" he tried, sending magical ropes to ensnare the object. It nearly worked, as the winged bludger was briefly entangled but quickly worked itself free.

"What is that?" Hermione shouted to the twins.

"Well--" George ducked as the ball dove for his head. "It was supposed to be a mobile shield."

Fred picked up where his brother left off. "The idea was to have it flying around a wizard in a battle situation--"

"--and it was supposed to fly into oncoming spells and repel them--" George paused to shoot a reducto curse at his 'shield', which missed and struck the wall. Harry winced in sympathy for the large living ship. Hopefully that hadn't hurt her too much.

"--while dodging spells from the one it was guarding--"

"--leaving the wizard free to fire back."

"Unfortunately, the proximity control spell seems to have--"

"--a small problem." George was too slow in ducking and was struck in the shoulder by the fast-moving projectile. He grunted in pain and nearly dropped his wand. Fred stepped closer, trying to block his brother's body from the object.

The wizards were throwing spells left and right, but only managing to hit the corridor walls as the far-too-well-designed bludger-shield repelled or dodged every single one. They were running out of ideas, until D'Argo, who had stayed well back out of healthy respect for a magical weapon, pulled his pulse pistol from its holster and shot the thing. It dropped to the floor with a resounding thud, wings twitching. Smoke trickled from the hole now gracing the center of the body.

There was a heavy silence as the wizards stared at the defunct shield, then turned as one to look at D'Argo. Crichton's eldest son just shrugged. "Guess you didn't teach it to dodge non-magical weapons."

George sighed and leaned back against the wall, holding his shoulder tightly. "And a good thing, too."

With a heavy pounding of feet announcing their approach, the Crichtons, Chiana, Remus, and Tonks burst into view around the corner.

"What happened?"

"Is everyone all right?"

Voices overlapped as each of the new arrivals asked questions and tried to understand what had occurred. Fred, Harry, and D'Argo took the lead in attempting to explain, with the uninjured twin explaining their invention and the others recounting the events of the subsequent battle. Tonks went over to George and waved her wand around his shoulder.

"Broken collar bone. Got a potion in my kit that'll fix that right up. But until then.../ferula./"

George's upper arm and shoulder were quickly wrapped in tight bandages. He winced and cried out, "Bloody hell, woman! Who taught you medical spells, Snape?"

"Hey, I'm an auror, not a healer."

Crichton snorted with laughter; it took Harry a moment longer to catch the joke, but then he hadn't gotten to watch nearly as much Star Trek as a kid.

Hermione, in the interim, had been examining the walls of the corridor where their spells had impacted. Harry wandered over to her, leaving D'Argo to explain how he'd finally put down the maniacal construct. He heard D'Argo's father teasing him about his 'kill' and asking what prey the 'mighty hunter' would be stalking next.

"Hey," Harry greeted when he reached the brown-haired witch. "How much damage did we do?"

Hermione looked up with a confused expression. "As far as I can tell, none. This part of the wall looks completely undamaged."

Harry followed her gaze, remembering the Reductor and Cutting curses he'd thrown just a few minutes earlier that had been deflected into the wall. There was no sign that anything had happened at all. He beckoned to Aeryn and explained the situation to her when she walked over.

"Pilot," Aeryn called out into her comms. "Did the magic down here have any effect on Moya? I'm told some of these spells should have caused some pain, but we can't see any marks."

Pilot's voice came back after a moment of communing with his host. "That tier is still heavily scarred from the fire used to destroy the Karack Metalites. Moya is much less sensitive there due to the scar tissue, which is why we suggested that the Weasley brothers locate their workshop there. Their descriptions of their work indicated a potential for occurrences such as this. Moya says she felt nothing, but she does indicate that there was a pleasant infusion of energy into her systems from that general area."

Remus, having overheard the discussion, came over to join them. "We put up shields when we hold dueling practice so we wouldn't cause any damage, but I wonder now if it was necessary. I know how much power these kids can put behind those spells; there should be some sign of them here, even if the wall was pure dragon hide, which is the most magically resistant substance we know of. With Moya's permission, we may want to do a bit of experimentation in the dueling chamber."

Within a week, the wizards had determined that Moya's inner and outer hull surfaces were essentially magic-proof. Her technology, unlike Earth muggle technology, was immune to the effects of magic, and the only effect of even a strong and damaging curse on any surface was a burst of energy into her systems. The only spells that hadn't been tried were the Unforgivables, and no one really cared to be the one to test those.

The twins, hearing this, immediately hired Chiana as their go-between to the Leviathan and her pilot, and started negotiating for excess Leviathan materials for their inventions. The young Nebari was quite taken with the exuberance and irreverence of the twins; they were the complete opposite of everything her own repressed government had tried to mold her into. She threw herself into the work with a will.



Harry strode aimlessly through the corridors, having some free time to himself for the first time in...well, maybe since they'd come aboard this strange space ship. Training was over for the day. Ron and Hermione had disappeared to wherever they went for 'private time'. D'Argo, who was gradually becoming a good friend as well, bringing a third perspective into their usual magical-versus-muggle-world arguments, had some secret project he'd been working on for weeks now but refused to talk about. And Zhaan....

Harry paused, a small smile growing unnoticed on his face.

Zhaan was busy with her mother, helping to repair some obscure system in Moya's deepest tiers.

Only a month, he realized. They'd been here a month, and he'd already learned more than in any single year at Hogwarts (though admittedly in fewer subjects), made new friends, and gotten thirty solid nights of sleep uninterrupted by visions from Voldemort.

It wasn't Occlumency, as he'd never had any luck with that little skill. The visions had come with horrible regularity during the year he'd spent hunting horcruxes across Europe. But not on Moya. Legilimency apparently didn't work at distances of over fifty million miles. Or maybe Moya's hull blocked the connection. Harry didn't much care about the reasons, he was just grateful for the result.

The rooms here on the uppermost tiers were deserted and dusty. Dobby would have been ecstatic had Harry allowed him to come along, with so many lovely rooms to clean. But Harry had instructed the house elf to stay behind and help the Weasleys and a few other Order members who, with the assistance of the portrait from the future and a pensieve full of the elder Hermione's memories, were going to track down the horcruxes for him.

It had made sense, he'd decided, to keep their quest secret back when they didn't know where the items were, or even what they were. Even a whisper of what they were doing then could have been catastrophic. But now, with the information they had been given, it made more sense to ask for help, so that all the horcruxes could be gathered quickly before Voldemort could have a chance to react. Between Bill Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody, and the various aurors in the Order, there was more than enough skill available to deal with the traps and protections around each tainted treasure.

There was a small sound behind Harry; he whirled, casting lumos silently and brandishing his wand. The corridor was empty. He chuckled at his own nerves; there were small creatures living aboard Moya, he'd been told. Some kind of bat, for example, inhabited the immense chamber surrounding Pilot. It must have been something like that.

Turning back, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he came face to face with a figure looming just inches away. He stumbled back with a yelp, bringing his wand to bear again and falling into a defensive stance.

The man didn't react at all, just watched calmly. It was a stranger, not one of the crew he'd been introduced to. One side of his face was smooth and shiny, like scar tissue, covering even the place where his right eye should be. His clothing was simple, brown cloth, quite unlike the black leather that the Crichtons favored.

When he made no threatening moves, Harry relaxed somewhat but kept his wand ready. "Who are you?"

"My apologies for startling you. I am Stark. Who are you?"

The name triggered a vague memory, from back when John Crichton was doing introductions. He had mentioned another member of the crew, who no one had seen for several days, in a tone that implied that this wasn't unusual.

Harry relaxed and tucked his wand in the holster riding his left forearm, then held out his hand. "I'm Harry."

Stark ignored the outstretched hand, staring instead at Harry's forehead. For all that Harry was used to the stares at his scar, he was bloody sick of it. He also found it a bit disconcerting to get that reaction from an alien who'd almost certainly never heard of him before.

Stark's eye seemed to lose focus. He reached out and placed his hand over Harry's scar, not quite touching the skin. "Darkness and death have marked you."

Harry blinked. "Yes."

"The breach is wide. Made wider in recent cycles. Defenses fail."

The harsh judgment was made more bearable by the expressionless tone. Harry recalled Snape's attempts to 'teach' him Occlumency back in fifth year. No doubt the bastard had widened the breach.

Stark continued, his single eye clearing and gazing directly into Harry's own. "If you wish, I can help you. Tear down the damaged walls and build them again."

The young wizard was wary. "What would be required of me?"

"Strength. Trust. Faith. Forgiveness. Pain. But in the end, the walls will stand and the power will flow."

Stark was starting to remind Harry more and more of Firenze and the other Centaurs. Maddeningly cryptic, but far more bearable than Trelawney's hysterical pronouncements. Still, there was at least one mystery still tugging at him.

"Why have I not seen you before now? We've been aboard for a long time."

Stark's face finally lost its mystic aura and he looked abashed. "I have been hiding. For many years, my soul, like yours, was consumed in darkness and grief. I had touched hundreds...thousands, perhaps, helping them pass beyond. Many of the souls I ministered to were corrupt. Selfish, violent, greedy, arrogant, and cruel. I fought the darkness in my soul for many cycles. I found peace at last, twenty cycles ago, but it is fragile.

"When you came aboard...so many minds, in so much turmoil. Violence and aggression, even when only training. I hid. I spent many arns in meditation."

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry we caused you distress, Stark. We didn't know."

The alien man smiled. "Even my long-time friend John Crichton does not know. He sees my sanity and is glad for me, but he does not see the work involved because I choose not to burden him with it. My discomfort is minor when matched against your need. Continue training as you have; I would gladly endure far worse to defeat the monster you must face."

"How do you know about him? If you've been hiding--"

"I speak with Pilot on occasion, late in the sleep cycle when all else is quiet. He has told me your story."

Harry nodded silently.

Stark tilted his head, gazing directly into Harry's eyes. "So, do you wish my help with rebuilding your walls?"

Harry was torn. This man was alien, not magical. Whatever techniques he had to teach, it would not be Occlumency, but something different. Would it be of any use in blocking his scar connection? What if it made things worse?

He gave a mental snort. There wasn't much worse /to /get, thanks to Snape's sadistic 'lessons'. It sounded like Stark had some experience having foreign consciousnesses forced into his head. Who knows, maybe he really could help.

"Yes, please."