So you ever wondered what Titanic would have been like if instead of Jack Dawson and Rose De Wit Bukater, it had happened to Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?
Well, I wonder about it all the time, so I decided to do something about it.
So dear readers, welcome to Harry Potter and the Unsinkable Ship!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Titanic or any of the Characters portrayed in this story. I'm just twisting them around a little for my own pleasure, and hopefully yours.
So, Enjoy!
-Leeh
:::
"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Draco Malfoy drawled, as he stepped out of the car, "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania."
Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father stepped out after him, laughing coolly, "You can be blasé about some things Draco, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauritania. And far more luxurious." Draco just turned away and stepped closer for a better look as he helped his mother out of the door.
"Your son is far too difficult to impress, Narcissa," he heard Lucius say. Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes as he turned his gaze back onto the Titanic. He had lied. He knew it was much bigger than the Mauritania; he just didn't want to give Father the satisfaction of his awe. It was far bigger than any other ship he had seen. It was marvelous.
"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable," said Narcissa as she brushed past Draco.
"It is unsinkable," bragged Father, as if he had been the one to build it, "Not even God himself can sink this boat. What is it?" He turned, annoyed at the man who had tapped his shoulder. Draco walked closer to the ship, following Mother as she went towards the boarding ramp.
They walked past the 3rd class passengers, as they were being inspected.
"It's the ship of dreams," he heard a young girl squeal in her father's arms.
"You're right, it is," he laughed back at her.
Draco walked swiftly past, studying the many small portholes on the sides. The ship promised to have long corridors, golden doors, draped dinner tables and strolling minstrels, playing their violins.
It was the ship of dreams, to everyone else.
To Draco, it was a slave ship, taking him back to London in chains.
Outwardly, he was everything a well brought up son should be. Inside, he was screaming.
:::
Harry Potter looked at the cards in his hands with narrowed eyes. He spared them only a glance before he lifted his eyes, letting them wander around the table. To his right, sat his best mate, Ron Weasley. His upper lip was sweating and his eye was twitching. He was staring at his cards as if willing them to change into something useful.
Harry sighed at his lack of subtlety. He really needed to work on his poker face. Any idiot could tell that he had a shitty hand. Behind him, stood Hermione Granger, Harry's other best mate. She sat biting her lip as she whispered encouraging words into Ron's ear.
She too could tell that he had no hope, but ever the optimistic one, she encouraged him nonetheless. Next to Ron, sat Michael Corner. He ignored his cards, and was instead glaring at the man next to him and hissing angry words in Italian. The man on the receiving end of the anger, and sitting on the other side of Harry, was Ernie MacMillan. He wasn't much in terms of looks or... well, anything really. He had been stupid enough to try and hit on Hermione with Ron in close proximity, so he must've been stupid from birth. He was the reason this poker game was happening in the first place anyway, but he looked to be regretting it, because he looked even more distressed than Ron.
"Harry," hissed Ron, leaning over, "you utter idiot, you bet everything we have."
"When you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose," he smiled, blowing a stream of smoke past his lips.
Michael again spat angrily at Ernie in Italian.
Harry looked at the centre of the table, where sat all the winnings. Some old crumpled bank notes, a lot of coins, a box of matches, an army knife, and a pocket watch. But the only thing any of them really cared about was the 3 slips of paper resting on top of it all. Tickets to board the Titanic.
"Michael is furious," whispered Hermione, translating for them, "He can't believe that Ernie bet their tickets."
"Neither can I," said Harry. He glanced once more at the cards in his hands, and he decided to take a chance. He set my 5 of hearts on the table, and Ernie was quick to snatch it up, sliding over his own card. Harry took it and put it in his hand.
It was time.
"Alright," he said, sitting up, "moment of truth. Somebody's life is about to change. Ron?"
He glared at Harry, and Hermione sighed as he threw his cards down.
"Nothing?" Harry asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Nothing"
"Michael?" Michael let go of his cards as if they disgusted him.
"Nothing." he said again, "Ernie?"
Ernie smirked as he set down his cards with pride.
"Uh oh." sighed Harry, "Two pair." he looked at his friends, "Ron, Hermione, I'm sorry." Hermione shut her eyes and rubbed her temples as Ron growled.
"Sorry?" he yelled, "Sorry my arse! You bet all our money-"
"I'm sorry," He interrupted, "You're not going to have spaghetti for a long time." Ron blinked as Harry grinned, "cause we're going to London!" he slammed my cards on the table, "Full house boys!" he whooped.
Hermione screamed, leaping into the air. Ron's eyes widened and he shouted for joy, grabbing the tickets and kissing them. "Bloody hell!" he yelled, "We're going to London!" he turned to Hermione, who took the tickets, also kissing them and yelling. Harry laughed as she pulled us into a group hug.
"Harry, you bloody genius!" she shrieked.
"We're going home!" he yelled, turning to the table. He swept up all the winnings into his bag, when Michael grabbed him by the front of his shirt, his fist raised. Harry braced myself for a punch, but instead, Michael's fist knocked Ernie out of his chair. Harry laughed in relieved surprise as I turned back to the others.
"We're going home!" he yelled again, grinning as he kissed the tickets."
"No" said the bartender. They all turned to him, frowning, "Titanic go to London, in five minutes."
Harry's eyes widened, "Shit."
They grabbed their bags, and they suddenly became grateful that everything they owned could fit into a couple of drawstring bags. Harry grabbed the money and they bolted out of the bar. Five minutes never seemed so short as we ran as if their life's depended on it.
"We're riding high now!" yelled Hermione as they ran, "Regular swells!"
"We're practically Goddamned royalty!" laughed Harry, ducking stairwells and people.
Thy maneuvered past parked and moving cars alike, bumping into horses and knocking people over.
"You're insane!" yelled Ron.
"Maybe, but I got the tickets!"
Hermione laughed as she ran.
"Come on Granger," teased Ron, "I thought you were fast!"
"You expect me to beat those gangly legs?" she yelled back, "I can't believe this! We are the luckiest people in the world, you know that!"
They finally reached the ramp as they were pulling it back.
"Whoa!" yelled Harry, "Whoa whoa whoa, wait stop, we're passengers! We're passengers!"
He gave the man the tickets and he looked at them suspiciously.
"Have you been through the inspection queue?"
"Of course. Besides, we don't have any lice, we're English. All of us."
"Right," he said, "Come abroad."
They jumped on, grinning, and kept on running. They ran until thy reached the deck and went to the sides.
"Goodbye!" yelled Harry, leaning over, "Goodbye I'll miss you!"
"You know someone?" frowned Ron.
"Of course not, that's not the point."
Catching on, they joined him and started waving.
"Goodbye," yelled Hermione, "I'll never forget you!"
Harry grinned as he felt the ship move. He could almost feel the propellers as they turned. H watched as the ship slowly sliced through the blue waters, moving away from the shore, and towards London.
Towards home.
:::
"62, 62, 62." the three wandered around the ship, looking for the room written on their tickets.
They turned a corner, and Harry finally saw the number on a gold square.
"Here!" he said, opening the door. Inside were already two men, who looked very surprised to see them. They were two ginger haired men, with identical faces.
The room was small, but not bad for third class. There were 2 bunk beds and a single bed, 5 in total. Hermione nabbed the single bed first chance she got after smiling at the other inhabitants.
"Hi, I'm Harry Potter," he grinned, holding out his hand. The one man slowly took it, looking confused.
"Harry Potter, nice to meet you." he shook the other man's hand, and it's only then that he realised that they were twins. Ron and Hermione had already made themselves comfortable in the beds.
"Who says you get top bunk?" Harry frowned at Ron as he set his bag on the bottom bunk. His home, for the next week.
He lay his head on the pillow smiling, as he heard the one twin turn to the other.
"Where's Ernie?"
:::
"This one?" asked the maid, Luna, as she held up a painting.
"No," said Draco, "No, it had a lot of faces on it." he kept searching the many canvases, until he saw it.
"This is the one," he sighed.
"Would you like all of them up, sir?" she asked.
"Yes," he sighed, "We need a little colour in this room."
"God, not those finger paintings again," drawled Father as he appeared in the doorway, "They certainly were a waste of money."
"The difference between father's taste and mine is that I have some,"Draco told Luna, "They're fascinating." he picked up another painting, gazing at the paint.
"It's like being in a dream or something," he said, mostly to himself, "There's truth but no logic."
"What's the artists name?" she asked, looking over Draco's shoulder.
"Something Picasso," he said waving his hand and taking another canvas.
"Something Picasso." Chuckled Father, "he won't amount to a thing." Draco once again had to fight the urge not to groan.
"He won't, trust me." he said after him. Draco nodded and walked away into his room, knowing that he would have to deal with his insults for over a week out at sea. He wondered how long he would be able to stand it.
At Shear bore, a woman came abroad named Nymphadora Lupin, but evryone just called her Tonks. History would call her the unsinkable Tonks Lupin. She walked in with her expensive dress and big hat, carrying her own bags.
"Well I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny." She had said to the bell-man.
Her husband had struck gold far out north and she was what Mother called 'new-money' After that, they were streaming west off the coast of Ireland, with nothing out ahead of them, but ocean.
The workings of a ship had always fascinated Draco. A big mass of iron, gliding on water as if it were nothing. He imagined the captain, Cornelius Fudge, sending orders to different parts of the ship, orchestrating the journey. He pictured the goings on at the bottom of the ship. The men, covered in black coal working to keep them afloat, shoveling coal into the raging furnaces, pumping the boilers, the propellers beating through the water. It was a miracle if Draco ever saw one.
:::
Harry, Ron and Hermione stood on the rails at the bow of the ship. Harry looked at them as they laughed. He doubted any of them had ever smiled this big in their lives. They looked out at the surrounding ocean as the wind blew in their faces.
If Harry closed his eyes and blocked the chatting next to him, he could almost believe that he was flying. What were the chances? A couple of day ago they were wandering the streets of Italy, looking for their next meal, and now they were on the Titanic, the most magnificent ship they had ever laid eyes on. It was a miracle, really.
Harry laughed as Hermione spread her arms, whooping into the wind.
"Look!" yelled Ron, pointing down. They looked to see a dolphin swimming just in front of the ship.
"Look, there's more!" gasped Hermione. And sure enough, the animal was joined by others, racing the Titanic and jumping alongside.
"Look at that one! Look, look at him jump!" yelled Harry, surprised that he was getting excited at a bunch of dolphins.
They laughed as thhey watched them be beautiful, and laughed as they dwindled behind them, and laughed for the sake of laughing.
"I can see London bridge already!" grinned Ron, "It's very small of course."
Thhey laughed at him and stared out at the beautiful sea.
"I'm the King of the world!" yelled Harry, spreading his arms and laughing. Because he was. He really was. He had his best friends and the best luck in the world. What more did he need?
:::
"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history," Mr Gilderoy Lockhart smirked at the table, his hands folded in front of him as he bragged about his ship.
Draco was sitting in the dining area, having tea and cigars with the people he 'needed to know'. There really was no point of him being there, but Father insisted that as the only Malfoy heir, it was imperative that he be always present. As much as he hated to admit it though, talk of the Titanic did fascinate Draco quite a bit. It was just a shame that it had to be with these people. "And our master ship builder Mr. Dumbledore here designed her from the keel plates up."
Albus Dumbledore blushed through his horn rimmed glasses. He really was a sight. He wasn't old, but his white hair and beard could have sworn otherwise. He seemed different from the others rich pansy's here though. He seemed to care more about the ship than the money and publicity it drew.
"I may have knocked her together," he muttered, "but the idea was Mr. Lockhart's."
Mr Lockhart hummed, happy to have the attention on him and his utter brilliance.
"He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale," Dumbledore continued, "and so luxurious in its pointments that it's supremacy be unmatched. And here she is," he grinned, looking around at the ship as a proud father, "willed into solid reality."
Mr. Dumbledore stopped talking and Draco immediately lost interest. He took a pipe from his pocket and lit it, letting the smoke fill his lungs, and willing it to kill him quickly.
"You know I don't like that Draco," his mother whispered, "not in front of them."
Draco glanced at her indifferently, and blew out a ring of smoke into her face. She leaned back, annoyed.
"He knows," sighed Father, giving Draco a look that could shrivel a tree. He delicately snatched the cigarette from his hand and stubbed it out in the ashtray in the middle of the table. Draco had only a moment to feel his annoyance when the waiter came around to take their orders. Draco opened his mouth, but was cut off by father.
"We'll go for the lamb," he told the waiter, "Rare, with very little mint sauce." He gave the waiter a winning smile before he looked over at him. "You like lamb, don't you Draco?"
He was aware that the table was watching him, and despite his urge to tell his father that no, actually, he preferred beef, he went the way of the Malfoy. Draco stretched his lips into an undoubtedly fake smile. It was pathetic, but enough to show father that he was still his perfect little heir. He hadn't noticed Tonks eyeing him until she spoke up. "You gonna cut his meat for him too there, Lucius?" she chuckled.
She hardly withered under the glare he sent her way, and Draco took an instant liking toward her. She gave father another smile before turning to rest of the table.
"Hey, who thought of the name 'Titanic'? Was it you Gill?"
Lockhart sat up, happy to have the attention back on him, "Yes actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength."
Draco frowned at the pompous man, "Do you know of Doctor Froyde, Mr Lockhart?" he asked, innocently, "His ideas about the male's preoccupation with size, once he gets you your age, might be of particular interest to you."
Tonks laughed openly, winking at Draco, and Dumbledore chuckled into his napkin.
"What had gotten into you?" hissed mother, leaning towards him with her eyes wide.
Draco excused himself and pushed out of his chair.
"I do apologize," he heard his mother say.
"He's quite a handful, Luci," said Tonks, "Can you handle him?"
"Well I'd better mind what he reads from now on, shouldn't I, Mrs. Lupin?" he drawled.
Draco knew that he would have to pay for embarrassing Lucius in front of important people later on, but he couldn't care less at that moment.
"This Froyde, who is he?" he heard Lockhart mutter, "Is he a passenger?"
Draco smirked to himself as he walked out of the doors.
:::
Harry's eyes flicked back and forth from his paper to the father and daughter leaning on the rails. It was rare for him to find such a beautiful picture without even trying. The girl's face was stern in concentration as she held on to every word her father uttered. The man held her up on the rail, pointing to things that Harry couldn't see. His fingers were long and strong, but he held her with the gentleness that can only be found in a father. Harry smiled as he drew them, honoured that he could capture their moment, even if they didn't know.
Ron and Hermione were sitting near him, talking to Fred and George Prewett. They had finally accepted that Ernie and Michael were not coming, and we had become fast friends.
"It's a real nice ship isn't it." Sighed Ron.
"Yea," grinned Fred, "It's an Irish ship."
"I thought it was English!"
"No, fifteen thousand Irish-men built this ship. It's solid as a rock. Big Irish hands."
They were interrupted as 2 men in suites cut across them, sporting very large canines.
George sighed, taking a puff from his cigarette, "That's typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shite," he muttered.
"Let's us know where we rank in the scheme of things," Harry replied, shaking his head.
"Like we could forget." Chuckled George. He glanced at the pad on Harry's lap and raised his eyebrows, looking impressed, "Do you make any money with your drawings?"
Harry opened my mouth to answer, but his eyes flicked behind them, and the words got lost in his throat. On the deck above them, a man walked towards the rails. He slung his arms over the side, in a way that was almost too elegant to be human. His white blonde hair seemed to reflect in the sunlight and blew softly over his face. He wore a light green suit, one that could be on the cover of a French magazine. His face bore straight features, and Harry could tell that he was trying to suppress some emotion. Anger? Sadness? He didn't know, but he seemed deeply troubled.
George must have realised that Harry was no longer listening to him, because he turned to see what I was staring at. When h saw, he nudged Fred with a grin, and they watched Harry stare.
"He's beautiful," he whispered. Th twins saw the man, and then looked back at Harry. Catching on, they chuckled,
"Oh, forget it boy-o." sighed Fred.
"Yea," nodded George, "You'd as likely have angels flying out your arse than getting next to the likes of him."
Harry knew that they were right, but still, he couldn't stop staring.
The man in the balcony must have sensed him looking because he glanced down, and looked straight at Harry. He looked away after half a second, deeming him unimportant, but then his eyes found Harry's again. They lingered longer before he returned to looking straight out to sea.
Harry kept staring, he couldn't help it, and then another man appeared. He wore a gray suit, and had long hair, exactly the colour of the other's. Because of the striking resemblance, Harry concluded that it was his father. The father grabbed the man by the elbow, and his head snapped to glare at his father. The father said something quietly that caused the son to spit out a response and glide away from the rail, disappearing back into the doors. Harry blinked as Ron waved a hand over his face. Hermione laughed from his other side.
"Are you quite finished Harry?" she asked
"Finished what?" he shrugged, turning back to his drawing, but he could no longer concentrate. He looked back up to the deck, but both father and son were gone.
"Who was that?" he asked no one in particular.
"Never you mind who it is," sighed Ron, dragging from his cigarette, "He's first class. Forget about it."
"I was just asking," Harry defended, "I'm not going to do anything."
"Of course not," sighed Hermione, "You know I always tell you that nothing is impossible, Harry, but that right there," she pointed to the deck where he stood, "is impossible."
"Oh come on!" Harry yelled, "I know all that! I was just looking!"
"You were not 'just looking'" grinned Ron, "I know that look anywhere."
"Because it's the same way you look at Hermione when she's not paying attention?" Harry hissed quietly. Ron turned red, and backed off, getting the message.
"But then again," he cleared his throat, "He was just looking."
Hermione frowned at them, curious as to what they were whispering about.
Harry shook my head at her, and returned to his drawing, but somehow, his eyes wandered back to the above deck. I heard the twins laugh and make kissing noises when they saw him looking. Harry threw a stone at them, feigning annoyance, when actually he was grateful for them.
After all, not many people didn't have a problem with guys mooning over other guys. Ron and Hermione were fine with Harry being gay. They had known him for years, and accepted him without a problem, but it wasn't so for most people. And some people were personally insulted by the fact that he refused to hide his sexuality.
Not that he cared much about them at all. But still, the fact that Fred and George didn't seem to care warmed Harry's heart. And with a warm heart, he looked to the empty deck one more time, vowing to see that beautiful man again.