Hermione sighed as she gathered up more driftwood to feed the fire. Her family had enjoyed hiking and camping when she was younger, so she had some experience in building a fire, which was lucky because Malfoy was steadfastly refusing to help, claiming "muggle work" was beneath him. He ignored Hermione when she pointed out that without his wand, he was basically a muggle himself. An incredulous look and haughty sniff were the only indication that he had heard her.
She made her way back to the small fire she had made in the middle of the beach. She had spent the afternoon exploring the island and was resigned to learn her earlier assumption of it being deserted was quite correct. The foliage and colorful birds, as well as the warmth of the crystal-blue water, seemed to indicate that they were somewhere In the tropics.
Hermione dropped the driftwood in a pile before sitting down in the sand. She and Malfoy had removed their robes earlier when the sun became too intense. Both were still in their school uniforms and barefoot.
"Malfoy," she said, striving to make her voice as neutral as possible. "Have you thought about how were are going to get back?"
He eyed her. "Well, that bloody key brought us here in the first place, didn't it?"
Hermione grimaced. "But…it hurt so bad. And besides, we have no way of knowing it would work again. What if the residual magic wore off? Or worse, what if it didn't take us back to Hogwarts, but left us…I don't know, under the ocean or inside a volcano?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes in disgust. "Must you be so melodramatic?"
She flushed angrily. "It's entirely possible! Didn't a student end up in the u-bend of a toilet because of that blasted Cabinet?"
He smirked at the memory. "Ah, yes. He was how I got the idea for the Cabinet, actually."
"Bully for him," Hermione groused, digging her toes into the warm sand. Firelight flickered across her as she stared out at the sun setting over the calm waves. "So pretty," she murmured.
Malfoy followed her gaze. "Boring," he proclaimed haughtily. "You know what I would like to see, Granger? You making me some bloody food."
"Let me get right on that, Malfoy," she retorted. "Let me just go into the kitchen and cook us up a four-course meal. Better yet, let's just summon a house elf."
"You pretty much are a house elf, mudblood," Malfoy shot back. She rolled her eyes, laying back.
"Maybe WE can find some fruit in the morning. Unless you know how to fish?"
Malfoy looked appalled.
"Thought not," she murmured, closing her eyes. The crackling fire and lapping waves soon lulled her to sleep.
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The next morning found Hermione and Malfoy standing below a tree, staring up into the foliage.
"Coconuts," Malfoy drawled. "How clichéd."
Hermione frowned. "Not very plausible to live on coconuts, but it's better than nothing, I suppose."
"Well then, go get them," Malfoy said, leaning back into the shade of the tree, sweat plastering his pale hair to his head. Hermione stared at him.
"Excuse me?"
He sighed impatiently. "Scurry on up the tree like a good little mudblood monkey and get some blasted coconuts."
Hermione growled under her breath, visions of knocking Malfoy upside the head with said coconuts very appealing.
"I am not climbing a tree in a skirt, Malfoy."
He rolled his eyes. "Then take it off."
Hermione sputtered incoherently, and he smirked.
"Oh please. As if I'd be even remotely interested in anything you would have to advertise."
Words failed Hermione as she narrowed her eyes at him. Stalking toward him, she landed one solid punch to his gut. Her hand stung something fierce, but she was gratified when he doubled over, wheezing. Haughtily, she turned her back to him and stormed off through the dense growth that led inland. She walked for almost a mile before she came to a small clearing. She stepped into it and grinned when she saw the fat green watermelons that were growing in the shade of the trees. Hoisting up a few, she turned to make her way back to the beach.
Malfoy was sitting sullenly by the fire, two coconuts beside him. Hermione raised a brow as approached.
"Get your own fire," he muttered, glaring at her balefully. "For that matter, get your own bloody island."
Hermione said nothing, merely offered him a melon. He took it suspiciously, eyeing her.
"What is it?"
She stared at him. "Haven't you ever seen a watermelon before?"
He flushed, red blotches forming on his high cheekbones. "Not like this. It's always red and cut up."
She rolled her eyes, cracking open her melon. Juice splashed out as she took a huge bite, savoring the sweet warm fruit. Malfoy looked revolted.
"Must you behave like an animal?"
She looked at him. "And how are you going to eat yours, Mr. Civilized? You seem to have forgotten your silver spoon at home."
Malfoy glared at her, but then sighed and broke open his melon as well. The two ate in silence, the tension between them nearly unbearable. Hermione finally broke it.
"We need to start thinking about finding shelter."
Malfoy looked at her, askance. "Absolutely not. One, that would imply we are here indefinitely, and two, I refuse to live in the same dwelling as a mudblood."
Hermione glared at him, standing up. "Fine," she said coolly. "Don't come running to me when monsoon season hits."
Summoning every bit of knowledge she remembered from books and movies she had seen about being stranded on islands, she was able to fashion together a crude shelter that closely resembled Eeyore's house in her favorite children's book. She wiggled into it, burrowing into the leaves she had piled into bed.
"Really?" a voice drawled as Malfoy stuck his head in. "Typical. Does it remind you of home, mudblood? Bet this is high class compared to where you come from."
"Bugger off, Malfoy," she growled.
He laughed, kicking a foot out. The entire structure came crashing down on Hermione is a heap of branches and leaves. She jumped up, furious.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, jabbing a finger into Malfoy's chest. "Why can't you crawl away and go live with the wild pigs or drown yourself or something?"
Malfoy grabbed her wrist painfully, his stormy eyes reflecting the overcast evening sky. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands, mudblood."
Hermione stepped closer, breathing hard, her own amber eyes alight with a fierce fire. "Or what? You going to hex me? Oh, wait. I forgot. You can't. You don't have a wand, so you're pretty much just a useless muggle!:"
Malfoy slapped her across the face. She stared up at him in shock before growling and kicking him. In the groin. He fell to the sand, writhing in pain. Hermione glared down at him.
"Never speak to me again. You stay on your side of the island and I will stay on mine."
He glared up at her. "Go die, mudblood."
She walked away.
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It had been roughly four days since she had ceased to talk to Malfoy. He stayed over on the left side of the island and she remained on the right. She occasionally looked over and saw him sitting miserably on the beach, despondently staring at a melon. Hermione had a small fire going and had a supply of melons, bananas, and had managed to catch a crab, which was roasting over a fire. She smirked.
It had been cloudy and humid for days now, and her already frizzy hair had reached epic proportions. She swatted it out of her face impatiently as she scanned the sky, a bit anxious. Lightning flashed in the distance and the waves crashed against the shore ominously. She cast a doubtful eye over her rebuilt shelter. She harbored no illusions of it protecting her from a storm. She would have to venture inland to seek shelter. She glanced over at Malfoy again, resolving herself to not feel guilty. His pale hair was mussed and damp and his skin was flushed with an angry sunburn. He looked disheveled, which was a rarity for the young Malfoy. She turned resolutely away. He deserved it. The wind picked up with a vengeance, and she frowned, looking out toward the sea.
The water was as black and roiling as the sky, and she felt prickles of unease on the back of her neck. Lightning flashed again, this time accompanied by the crack of thunder, The air felt like a hot, wet blanket was stifling her. She began to make her way toward the trees inland, but the wind made it nearly impossible to walk. A low, dull roar had begun to build up, punctuated by the waves slamming against the beach. Trees swayed dangerously, and lightning flashed again.
Hermione began to get very worried. Rain started pelting down, stinging her skin like hot needles. She began to run, but skidded to a stop as a tree came crashing down in front of her. Sand swirled about, burning her eyes. She coughed, struggling to breath in the hot wind. She turned back to the beach and saw a terrifying sight.
The wind was blowing the rain sideways, and as such it hadn't put her fire out. On the contrary, it had blew flaming bits of driftwood into the strands of trees nearby Malfoy, which sparked up in the gusts of the storm. Hermione watched in horror as Flaming debris swirled around Malfoy, who yelped and began running. He was stopped by another tree, this one in flames, crashing down. Lightning crashed again and the roar grew even more fearsome. Hermione could hardly see through the sand and smoke, but she struggled against the wind to Malfoy.
"Malfoy!" she screamed. Her throat burning as ash and hot sand swirled into it. "Malfoy!"
She couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything, and then he was beside her, a trickle of blood running down his soot-stained face. She grabbed his arm with one hand, clutching her locket and the key with the other.
"The spell!" she shouted.
Malfoy blinked at her, fear reflected in his eyes.
"WHAT IS THE SPELL?" she screamed over the wind. Lightning struck the beach nearby, making them both jump.
"H-Har-" he coughed. She gripped his arm tighter. "Harmonia Nectere…"
A strange tingling sensation tickled the back of his neck, like static, and Hermione gasped. He barely had time to react before she pushed him forward, a bolt of lightning striking the spot they were standing.. Malfoy could feel the scorching heat and crackling electricity from it, and the impact made him fall backwards.
"Hermonia Nectere Passus!" he bellowed hoarsely.
There was another loud crack and Malfoy felt as though he was being stretched unpleasantly. The roar of the storm faded to the roar of his blood pounding in his ears as the air was squeezed out of his lungs. He clenched his eyes closed as he spun and spun and spun.
Finally, the spinning and the squeezing stopped and he opened his eyes, blinking.
A calm night sky greeted him, a million stars glittering like fireflies. He breathed a deep sigh of relief before turning to Hermione. He froze.
She was lying in a crumpled heap nearby, her Hogwarts uniform torn and dirty. Her hair was a tangled mess and her honey-colored eyes were dazed. A nasty burn covered the back of her legs and a terrible gash had split open her side. She gingerly touched the wound with a hand, staring at the blood bemusedly.
"Funny," she murmured, entranced by the glistening scarlet drops. "It doesn't look like mud."
Then she passed out.