Wow, the response to this fic has been overwhelming but don't hold back on your reviews! I dropped the 50k-words monster on my Magzillasaurus lap and I'll update at the same rate as she can beta for me... so today I'm offering you a second chapter, but when the next will follow... dunno. Though I am grateful for her help.

The first Dramione encounter... *wink*

Departure Day One

*Hermione*

Dinner was announced, and all the residents of the suites were expected to join the Captain for an exclusive meal, dressed in formal attire for the men, the women in a cocktail dress. Hermione's preference was the privacy of her room, with a light meal, but it denying such a special invitation just wasn't done..

It came with the category of her room, you had to mingle with high society. As such, she used the opportunity to meet her neighbours, more precisely the one next to her suite, who shared the impressive balcony with her. Dressed in a dark red choker gown with a low cut back and cleavage, Hermione was guided by a rather handsome waiter to the dining room, accepted the offered glass of bubbles; nipping from it until she was able to eat something - she knew how fast the champagne tended to go to her head on an empty stomach.

She wasn't the first to arrive, a few guests from other the thirty-five suites - the majority pairs of an older age - strolled around the room, appreciating a few paintings exposed. Some of the grey-haired men made no effort to hide their appreciation for her female curves, viewing her unabashedly from head to toe. It felt nice to see the appeal, but it irked her also for their lack of decency, their wives hung at their arms, for God sake.

A canapé with salmon roe was accepted and eaten in one bite. It wasn't her first choice but the hunger she felt nagging won over her lack of appreciation.

The captain made his appearance, a man close to his fifties, she thought, with salt and pepper hair, the naval experience marked on his features but a welcoming sight by all means. I wouldn't mind a roll between the sheets, he looks yummy. His body was taut, she assessed it readily by his tight-fitting uniform.

The quick thought, however, raised a question in her mind: would she deny any offering for a swift shag?

Her eyes roamed over the group from behind her flute, judging her company.

Aside from the grandpas on board - those were a total no-go - if an early forty would approach her, she might accept. After all, she was tied to no one, free as a bird. The prospect of a life partner slinked with the year in her mind, so why spare herself for a man that might never show up? Go with the flow, seize the day and solve any hurdles when they appeared.

Long-term plans, according to her experience, ended up being destroyed anyway…

The room filled and the low chatting rose as well, Hermione tried to keep her attention on an older couple who was talking her ears off about their earlier cruises: this wasn't their first, but their longest one, madam was looking forward to shopping at the different ports, and the service onboard this ship was excellent. Madam also suggested taking a few massages, especially the Turkish one, as the masseur tended to give extra attention if Hermione got the hint right.

If I'm in need, it's nice to know where to find my quick fix… She covered her half-smile behind her second glass.

A loud laugh drew the attention to a small gathering behind her. A few ladies showed their interest in a bloke with light blond hair, in a tailored suit that didn't hide his athletic shape, broad shoulders and narrow waist. He looked young from behind, and instantly she considered that if he advanced, she wouldn't deny his offering. In his suite, that is, no strangers in her private chamber… She would be the one walking away, instead of pushing a bloke out of her premises. Be the smart girl.

*Draco*

His guide brought him to the Captain's dinner, or as he hoped, the first encounter with birds to choose from. Rich ladies looking for a shag with no strings attached, paradise for a young dragon like him, who wanted nothing else in life. For now.

The room was full of people, the majority couples of elder age, not that it stopped some of the massive wrinkled slags from giving him a quick once-over and if possible flash him their fake tits. Even he could see from far, that such a firm full bosom was the work of a Healer as it clashed with the age of its owner. He preferred the real deal between his fingers, not fake fillers to compensate for nature's natural course of life.

Among the old and not so old slags, he spotted a beauty in a dark red gown. She stood with the back to him, offering him a view of a nice spine half covered by waves of curly brown hair; thank Salazar for the low cut back on her dress. There's my first bird. He wanted to approach her, but an older woman touched his arm, to grab his attention. "Mr. Malone, where do you come from?"

"North London, Mrs. Aville. Now if you excuse me…"

The hand pushed him back to her, "And is this your first cruise, Mr. Malone?"

Some people don't get the hint, do they? "Yes, it is, a long-time dream. Now, I think I recognise..."

"I'm quite experienced in the cruise world, Mr. Malone. If you have any question, I'm more than happy to help you eh explore… the benefits of discovering the world by sea." The old bat couldn't be more obvious. Draco attempted once more to escape the woman, to be stopped by the Captain's deep baritone, inviting everyone to join the table.

Much to his disappointment, he saw the man offer an arm to the brunette and escort her to the table, providing a chair at his right side. Adding to his frustration, the bint glued to him and perched him next to her, while on his side another a white-haired woman flashed her perfect fake teeth to him. Speaking of luck…

He looked up straight across the roundtable, nodded at the captain and glimpsed for the first time at the beauty at the Captains' right side.

And froze.

Oh bloody hell, what are the odds? He schooled his face into a polite smile to hide the rage inside, Of all people in the world, I'm stuck inside this vessel with the one woman I miss as little as a toothache, he thought even if he earlier admitted appreciating her help with some Muggle issues. She eyed him straight in the face, in her features he saw all sorts of emotions flash. Anger, frustration and disbelief.

Draco used these seconds of silence to assess a few things. She had aged into a natural beauty many pureblood witches would kill to have. Her face wore a very lightly applied makeup to highlight her grace instead of covering her imperfections. Her curly hair was no longer a bush but a tamed mane of ringlets, somehow he thought immediately that he could enjoy the view of them bouncing while she rode him.

Her eyes were the most beautiful part of her face, the windows of a soul - am I turning into a Hufflepuff? he thought to himself, quit the poetry moment, you wanker. The fact was her eyes were expressive as hell, and at the moment, if looks could kill he would be a dead ferret - I know the names the trio uses to address me, no big deal...

If As-fucking-toria knew, she would laugh herself to death. This is the ultimate punishment. I hope her suite is far away from mine… or I'll have to watch out for a murder attempt.

The Captain broke their brief battle of stares, "I suggest we introduce ourselves, to break the ice." If the man noticed, he decided to ignore the murderous looks he received from the swot. "My dear, will you do the honours?" Yes, one Granger on the spit.

*Hermione*

"Of course, Captain Winslow, I'm Hermione Granger." I'll throw a certain rodent overboard, the moment I can, hopefully in a dark corner at night. Not one soul will miss his presence.

"My dear Mrs. Granger, share with us, what you do in life, how can our crew improve your experience on board…"

Help me commit murder and cover my tracks? That was probably not the answer the Captain was after…

"It's Miss Granger, Captain Winslow, I'm not married." She hated grey eyes by now, mocking her for her civil status. From her point of view, he wasn't married either, unless his pureblood wife wasn't allowed to join a simple dinner, what could very be the truth, methinks. "I work for the government, law enforcement to be precise."

"Oh, you're a police officer."

"No, I'm part of the investigating body from the law enforcement. Type of CSI division, as you may call it." The ferret is snorting, how mannered…

"Interesting division indeed, you deal much with solving crimes, I guess?"

"More revealing the cause of death, to be precise. I've seen my share by now, if I'm honest."

"What do you expect from this cruise?" The man was utterly oblivious to the battle over the table, her hand flexing around a knife. The waiter had just served the white wine, and she gulped half of the glass down to ease her nerves. Her room wasn't difficult to find, after all.

"To see the world, to take a break from my daily life, this is a breather of sorts."

*Draco*

"I'm at your disposal for any request, my dear. Any request at all."

As a hint, it counted. Draco didn't misunderstand what the Captain was offering, there was no room for doubt, not that he could resent the older man. Hermione was not only one of the youngest at their table, but she was, by far, the most attractive. Draco himself would go for it if they didn't have all the history between them. Hell, he would even offer a cruise with benefits to the woman, if she wasn't Hermione Fucking Granger.

It was his turn to answer the Captain's question, although he noticed a lack of interest compared to his full attention towards Granger. "I'm Drake Malone, a businessman. This cruise was supposed to be my honeymoon, but my fiancé decided on a change of scenery." Kill the gossip by its roots, "I chose to use my journey to start with a new leaf, make new acquaintances."

Hermione murmured less quietly than she should, "She was a smart woman."

"What was that, Miss Granger?" Draco heard her just fine, sending the ball back to her side, "I didn't catch it completely."

"I wonder why she ditched you, such an interesting party." The hate dropped at every word, their battle became the focus of the table. "I mean, a businessman who can afford such expensive quarters… she must have grounded reasons to discard an appealing person."

"My ex-fiancé found a better offer, if I may be honest." The woman at his left rubbed his arm in compassion, offering unabashedly to drown his sorrows at a later time. He might be hungry for some dick action, but not desperate enough to accept it from a bint with fake tits.

The Captain interjected, "Do you know each other?"

"Yes."

"No." Granger was forced to elaborate as it collided with his confirmation, "We attended the same school and year, but we don't know each other beyond being acquaintances."

"What Miss Granger means, is that we never got to know each other decently. There was much animosity between her friend circle and mine." Work with that, swot.

"Didn't see the necessity, as I don't see it now. It's a bad coincidence that we both are on board the same cruise, against all odds." The first course was served and the witch bit in her salmon with a certain intent, "It's really unfortunate."

Winslow decided to keep himself out of the danger zone, moving on to the bint next to Draco. It was a war zone, their animosity only missed by the blind.

He blocked her out, thinking about his fucked up situation. Of all possibilities, he ended up sharing this long vacation with the one person he owed so much to; but would prefer to cut off his left arm instead of apologising for his actions. He was a Slytherin and a coward first class.

The war had ended five years ago, they pardoned him for his crimes, precisely thanks to her and scarhead's testimony. If he had a new chance in society to right his wrongs, it was because of her doing. Instead of manning up, however, he decided to take it for granted and ignore her existence tout court.

Alternatively, he accepted taking an eighth year and a real shot at the N.E.W.T.s, worked towards a Potions Mastery and planned on opening his own apothecary, where he could offer potions and other medicines to the lower class at a minimum price while charging the full fare to the higher society whom could afford the cost. His quiet way of returning some goodness back to the population who suffered under his father's madness, amongst others.

His engagement to Astoria was forced by his mother, acknowledging that his name nowadays represented nought to the aristocracy. Witches who lined up to date him, did it for this vaults alone, and nothing else, showing absolutely no shame into admitting it to his face. The blond Greengrass was the first who showed a little affection, in the beginning, leading him to believe that, in time, he might learn to love her. How wrong could a bloke be? The promise of access to their galleons worked alluring and initially, nothing was too much for her to please him. But during their three-year engagement - his mother wanted him to wait for the ceremony until his father was freed from Azkaban - the mask cracked, revealing at rare moments that all he did was a burden for Astoria unless it came to spending money on her.

More often than not, he attempted to come up with a valid reason to call the whole thing off; alas, not even the prospect of another appealing witch showed up. As D-day came closer, the more he resigned to his fate, believing that better was impossible. The Malfoy name meant little at present.

This ship is big enough for two, Merlin will show him some mercy and minimize the moments of being together. It was time he deserved some peace…

-oOo-

*Hermione*

Businessman my arse, the man is a sloth, in Merlin's name.

What are the odds, for god sake? Why must this menace-to-my-good-sanity, look so good? He was attractive as hell, his pointy features had filled out, his blond hair lightened to a surf blond complexion, and he had clearly put on some muscle. The jacket fitted nicely around his shoulders. The arse.

Merlin, couldn't you have some pity with me, and put another head on the wizard's body?

The ship is big enough, how big were the odds of him choosing the same excursions and eating at the majority of the places she chose? Morgana, show me some mercy!