Apologies for the delay in this next part coming out. I had some trouble figuring out how I wanted to structure the incoming interaction between Will and Harry. This part will be separated into about 3ish sections before we move into the final part of the story.

Cushioning his landing with a non-verbal aresto momentum, Harry landed lightly on his feed and slowly made his way over towards the ship floating just a ways down the coast. He stopped at a fair enough distance to be out of range should anything happen, and watched as a few figures above begun preparing to anchor whilst the figure he had made eye contact with swung himself overboard, landing with a wet thud in the water.

Harry was slightly surprised to see the figure was a young – looked like he was in his early thirties – man, dressed comfortably in what looked like… period clothing? Green eyes swept down the details of the simple outfit the man wore, from the loose-fitting shirt to the tall, leather boots and even the bandana covering his head.

Before he could ponder further, said man stopped at arm's length, silently watching him. "Hi?" said Harry, for lack of a better response to the situation.

"Who are you?" asked the man plainly, eyeing Harry like a surprisingly hard puzzle he'd found.

"Isn't it good manners to introduce yourself before asking someone's name?" Harry pointed out drily. "My name is Harry Potter," he answered anyway, fingers fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt, just a twitch away from sliding his wand of out the holster on his forearm. The man before him showed no recognition at his name, however, which just raised more questions than it answered.

"William Turner," replied the other man, "Captain of the Flying Dutchman". Will watched the young man before him closely to see what his reaction would be but was surprised which part he reacted to.

Flying Dutchman? Is that the name of his ship or something? People actually name their ships? Thought Harry before his mind tugged him back to the name. William Turner. As in… "wait, William Turner as in the one who knew Elizabeth Swann?"

Blinking in surprise, Will took a step back at the name of his beloved he had not uttered for many a century save in his own memory. Heart tight, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do you know of me?"

"You?" Harry repeated incredulously. "If you were that William Turner you've got to be, what, six hundred years old by now?" He stopped mid-chuckle to stare at the captain. "Unless you're not a muggle…"

"What in god's graces is a muggle?" Will asked, bewildered by the wariness exuding the man, Harry. "I am that William Turner. And I'm the captain of the Flying Dutchman, ring any bells?"

"No?" Harry answered immediately. He had the feeling they were on two completely different wavelengths in this conversation and the more they spoke the more confused they got.

"The captain of the Dutchman never dies," another voice cut into the building tension. Both men looked over to another figure that had exited the ship, nodding once towards Will who acknowledged him in return.

"I'm Captain Turner's first mate, William Turner," he introduced himself, "and also his father." At the stranger's incredulous stare, he added "but call me Bill."

"What do you mean 'never dies'," Harry repeated, unconvinced. "I'm assuming by the fact no-one else has noticed your ship appearing out of nowhere that you're all magicals?" Harry missed the bewildered look that passed between the two man across him, "but you can't be—" he stopped. Harry was going to say, 'you can't be immortal, because that's impossible', only to remember that he himself might as well be, as the 'Master of Death'.

Brow raised at the younger man's halted speech, William replied, "I'm not immortal, but I won't die unless I'm killed either." His lips twitched upwards in amusement at the growing confusion on the man – Harry's – face. "You speak of… 'magicals'. Are you one?" He thought back to Tia Dalma, although she turned out to be a goddess. "And if you've never heard of the Dutchman, then how do you know of me?" and of Elizabeth, went unsaid.

Avoiding the first question – though Harry was given a lot of free reign post-war, even he was wary about breaking the Statute of Secrecy to a stranger – and instead perked up at the second question. "I don't, actually. I found out recently that one Elizabeth Swann may have been a distant ancestor of mine and came here looking for some information on her and read about you." It was still weird to think the person he had been reading up in museums and books until yesterday was standing right in front of him.

"Your… ancestor?" Will repeated, face slack in disbelief. He couldn't imagine entertaining such a thought, given how he'd always assumed that after his son had stopped coming to meet him on shore for his once-in-ten-years visit on land, that he'd either passed away or left to live his own life. But he'd never had imagine that his line would have continued… until even now. "And how exactly did you manage to trace your… lineage back to… Elizabeth?" the name of his beloved left his lips in almost a whisper, word turned unfamiliar in centuries of disuse.

Deciding to be frank, hoping that he might be able to get the answers he seeked, Harry dug around in a drawstring pouch he had on him. "While sorting through some of my family vaults not long ago, I came across this," he pulled out the key that had started it all, oblivious to the wide eyes and sharp intake of breaths from the men across him. "My… accounts managers helped me to trace it's origin to my mother's side of the family, and after some more digging we traced it back to Elizabeth Swann."

Looking up, Harry took in the shell-shocked expressions of both men and their intense stares at the key in his hands. He curled his fingers around the key carefully, not fully trusting either to not snatch it away. "I was told that it may have belonged to her, as we have no further records past that." He looked eyes with Will, "from your expression, am I right to assume that you know what this key is?"

"H—Mr Potter," Will stuttered, flustered. "I think this conversation might be better had in some more privacy." He looked back towards his ship, and some of his crew disembarking and making their way towards town. "If it suits you, we can discuss this in my quarters." Though he had no idea what he was going to say to this stranger—no, not stranger, his… descendant, he owed him this much.

Glancing carefully between Will and the looming ship docked just past the shore, Harry felt like he could trust these men not to harm him…. without reason. Even then, he trusted his own instincts and abilities enough to at least hold his own if it came to it.

"Alright," he acquiesced. "Lead the way."

As always, if you enjoyed, a review is always appreciated :)