Three days into the Pacific, Parvati began to feel as if she'd entered a different life altogether. Dreams hadn't plagued her at night, as she'd feared they would. With all the work she had to do to sail the craft, cook her food and whatnot, and with all that was on her mind, trepidation about returning to the witch-wizard world, confronting the inner demons that that would doubtless bring to the surface, by time she fell asleep at night, there wasn't enough energy left, mental or physical, to dream.

The sun had hung strangely all morning, and the swells were much larger than they had been. The smooth sailing she'd so far had was apparently about to end, she was thinking, when a loud pop behind her made her jump up from the net box on which she'd been sitting.

"Bloody hell!" she cried, clutching the mast for support while digging in her cloak with the other hand for her wand. A young man, short, somewhat overweight, was standing 2 metres from her, looking around for something to hold on to, apparently. "Bloody damn hell!" she said, whipping out her wand and pointing it at him, "get off of my boat, now!" The man opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He glanced wide-eyed at the sail, and then just as wide-eyed back at her. "Go, go, go! Now! Disapparate this minute! I don't care if you splinch yourself across the bloody ocean. Go!" The fellow, aghast, more afraid of the advancing Parvati than of a poorly performed disapparation, vanished.

Heart racing, the witch cursed some more, and began pacing the small deck, all the while looking around in every direction suspiciously, as if the man would appear again. Something about his face had been familiar. Parvati sat down on the net box, still peering around the boat suspiciously. She pictured the frightened, grimacing face, gave the sail a perfunctory tug, and began to laugh. For five minutes she laughed, until tears streamed down her face. "It couldn't be," she said aloud, when she'd regained her breathe. "Neville Longbottom?!? What did he expect, dropping in on me like that?" She laughed again. "And did he just decide to pop in for a visit on his own, or did someone put him up to it?" However she looked at it, it had been an extremely foolhardy thing to do. An owl would have been sensible.

But on one count the meaning of the visit was clear enough. Parvati was no longer going to enjoy the anonymity she'd had for a decade. Certain people would see to that.

Within an hour the sky had darkened and the swells were well over 4 metres. She'd taken the sail in and tied everything down. "Here it comes," she said, meaning the storm, thinking also, she noted to herself, about the return.

The worst of the storm was over, though the winds were still high and the swells just shy of making her seasick. Parvati closed the cabin door and changed her soaked clothes. It had been a challenge, staying put, remaining aboard when she could have, at least theoretically, disapparated at any moment to dry land. Letting the storm have its way with her craft, for one so particular about even tiny details, had been trying. One consequence of this, however, was that, for the first time in years, she felt exposed – to the elements, to the witch wizard world, to the uncertainty of existence, to uncertainties in herself. Until now she'd been so busy with controlling the craft, however, that she hadn't noticed it happening. Yet, immediately upon laying down in the bunk, it was clear. She was returning to the world from the deep floor of some inner ocean. But if it was a rising, it felt also like a sinking.

Neville's visit, she thought, made little sense – or rather, made no literal sense. It may have been expected in some ways – someone would of course try to contact her once she was "on the map." Perhaps Neville wasn't the most likely emissary, but who better, or worse, now she thought about it. There is no one with whom she was connected anymore. Nevertheless, supposing Hermione had wanted to speak with her, it was pretty unlikely she'd have sent Longbottom. Besides, Hermione wouldn't have had to send anyone. She could communicate with you as with someone sitting next to her at the Hogwarts staff table, if she really wanted.

"Why do I know that?" Parvati was wondering, when the radar above her head started making static. "What's with you?" she asked the object. Craning her neck, she saw the screen had gone dark.

"Fine. Break. I don't care," said Parvati. A small blue circle appeared in the centre of the radar. She watched as it grew until the whole screen was a hazy blue. A face appeared in the haze.

"You again? What do you want, Neville?" she spoke, squaring off against the monitor, recognizing the face in it immediately, and conscious that, while she was over-reacting somewhat, she rather enjoyed the posture.

"Parvati. It's good to see…"

"Cut it. Just tell me what you want. You or whoever you're working for."

"Hermione wants you to go to the Ministry of Magic first, before going to Hogwarts as you intend to do."

Parvati was about to ask how the woman could know what her intentions were, when she herself wasn't entirely sure about them, but stopped herself. "Why didn't she owl me? Why send you?"

"You're in the middle of the ocean, Parvati, and besides," said Neville as he paused, glancing down before continuing, "a friend of yours insisted I give her a physical description of your appearance when…"

"Neville, even you must know that I do not have any friends. So, whoever this person is…"

"Parvati…"

"Can it, Longbottom. If Hermione says I'm to go to the Ministry, I'll go. Say that. And just… no more visits, of any sort. Say that too, to whomever, to everyone, to anyone who asks. And if you or anyone else appears on any equipment in this cabin, I will toss the offending object into the deep, along with an old family curse of soul-stealing."

Neville looked as if to say something, but Parvati, her eyes wide, made an exaggerated wave of her hand. "Bye."

The radar went blank momentarily before returning to it's blue monotony.

Parvati considered the possible reasons for the Ministry wishing to see her, none of them trivial. "Some final details regarding certain events during the war? Family? Hah! Family, what family anymore, really – family-related business, an issue with the estate? Certainly I've broken no laws in the last decade, magical or muggle, and the only spells I've used are those that bound together this sail."

The ocean was calm, and Parvati could now actually pace back and forth the length of the deck. She found she was impatient to get back anymore, tired of the journey already. Whatever meaning she had expected to get from it was already, after her long exile, set into her bones, into her soul. This symbolic gesture homewards – if she was after headed for whatever was home anymore – was over.

With a dramatic swoosh, she charmed the boat to follow a swift arc around Cape Horn and across the Atlantic, toward Allhallows-on-Sea, where she had a place picked out to hide her craft. Pausing at the cabin door to watch the waves passing rapidly, she grinned. It would take just a few day to get there now. In less than a week, Parvati Patil would be ready to start again.