After days at sea, the Tide Messenger cut through the Indian Ocean, homing in on its destination. Tom, reveling in his self-appointed role as captain, stood at the helm. His initial clumsy attempts at navigation had given way to competent control. The ship's actual captain watched with a mix of awe and profound relief.
"Captain," the Tide Messenger's captain said, addressing Tom. "We're almost there." He breathed a sigh of relief, the tension of the past few days finally easing. He'd envisioned his beloved vessel meeting a Titanic-like end more than once.
Just as the captain dared to imagine clear skies ahead...
BOOM!
A torrential downpour erupted without warning, engulfing the Tide Messenger. The ocean's surface roiled, tossing the cruise ship violently.
"O Captain! My Captain!" The ship's captain could only stare, aghast. "This can't be happening! This is catastrophic!"
Just as he began to panic...
"Harry," Tom stated, emerging from the captain's cabin. "Take the helm."
Harry and Malfoy, who had been observing Tom, exchanged bewildered glances. "Me?" Harry stammered.
"Anyone can do it. Draco would suffice," Tom replied, already striding away.
"Then I won't refuse!" Malfoy declared, eagerness overcoming any hesitation.
His "superb" sailing skills, however, did nothing to reassure the Tide Messenger's captain, who hovered nearby, desperately trying to avert disaster.
...
Splash!
The downpour intensified. Passengers who had been enjoying the sea air were instantly drenched. Some tried casting Water-Repelling Spells, while others scrambled back to their cabins. But a strange frenzy seemed to grip them all.
Inside the ship, Ashok's face was etched with worry. He believed only one thing could cause such a storm: "Garuda's Feather."
Snape frowned, the sound of the rain carrying an unsettling allure. "It has the power to bewitch?" he asked, his tone sharpening. If the storm, as Ashok claimed, had spread beyond India and now possessed this mesmerizing quality, it was far more dangerous than he had imagined.
"I... I don't know," Ashok said, clearly disturbed. "It shouldn't have this ability. The Indian Ministry of Magic never mentioned the storm having this effect."
Snape turned and headed away without a word. He had no intention of testing the rain's effects firsthand. He drew his wand, attempting to guide the frenzied passengers back inside, but, to his shock, he found, "This rain interferes with spellcasting!" It dampened the power of his spells, diminishing their effectiveness.
With Ashok and Nagini's help, Snape managed to herd the passengers back into the cabins, where their mania seemed to subside.
Snape stood in the swaying cabin, staring at the tempest, searching for a solution. The rain's interference was minimal for him, but going out wouldn't solve anything. What to do with these people? He glanced at the listless passengers.
"Severus," a voice called.
Snape's eyes widened. Tom strode past him, heading towards the deck.
"Well done," Tom stated, his voice cutting through the downpour.
...
A dark figure emerged onto the deck, facing the swirling chaos of the storm. Despite his small stature against such a backdrop, the tempest seemed to shrink away from him. A circle of calm formed around him, the rain parting wherever he stepped.
Tom walked to the edge of the deck, making no other move. Yet, with each step, the dark clouds recoiled further. As Tom reached the railing, the storm above vanished entirely.
From high above, the storm that had blanketed India was instantly gone!
...
... miles away, a magically concealed cave clung to the northern face of the Himalayas.
"Pfft—"
Inside, a gaunt man coughed up blood from every orifice. This was no longer the man who had first acquired Garuda's Feather. His eyes were now sharp, light grey and predatory. His hair was coarse, brittle, and almost grey. His withered body exuded a damp, metallic odor.
Before him lay the listless Thunderbird. Its golden feathers, soaked in crimson blood, shone with an ominous light.
He could not directly handle the Garuda Feather, so he soaked it in the Thunderbird's blood to weaken its potent magic. Even then, using it was a costly endeavor.
He had poured everything into harnessing the storm's power, sacrificing half his life to engulf the Indian subcontinent. But now, the immense power he had grasped at so desperately shattered like a fragile bubble.
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