A/N: Had a lot of fun writing this one ;) Enjoy! Chapter 4 will be coming at the end of next week.
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and it's characters do not belong to me
Part 1: Somewhere off the coast of Brazil
Chapter 3
The sun was beginning to set over the ocean and Draco still hadn't come to a decision or ventured down into the hull to talk to Hermione again. Instead, he had spent the day running every scenario he could think of through his head and realizing that every time he came up screwed. He chewed the inside of his cheek and cast his line out again over the boat. He'd already caught enough fish for dinner tonight but repeated the motion out of habit and the need to feel productive.
When at last the sun disappeared and darkness descended over the water, Malfoy reeled in his line and brought the recently caught and gutted fish down to the galley. He hadn't heard a peep from Hermione all afternoon and while a part of him hoped she had simply died in her sleep, another part felt the urge to check in on her and make sure she wasn't rotting below deck.
He split the difference and instead began to work on dinner.
"I hope you eat fish!" he yelled down to her. When at first he didn't get a response he moved closer to the door and knocked on it. A loud bang came from inside followed by a gasp of pain. Sounded like she had thrown one of his books at the door. He smirked, taking some pleasure in her self-inflicted pain.
He fried up the fish and set to making some rice and beans. When he set two plates he dropped one off at the table and took the other into the bedroom. He despised eating in bed but the situation was a bit out of his hands at this point. When he entered the bedroom he did his best to ignore the daggers being shot his way.
"Here, eat this. There isn't any poison in it if that's what you're worried about," he remarked snidely.
"Even if there were I'm sure you'd botch the amount you imbecile," she replied just as snidely.
"Well then at least you'd be in a great deal of pain!"
"Oh you are such a little prick you know that Malfoy, if I had my wand I'd—"she abruptly stopped talking.
"You didn't bring your wand with you?" Draco looked at her with surprise.
"Of course I did! I just meant if I had it with me right this minute. I—"Draco rushed out of the bedroom and snatched the small pack he'd grabbed from the dock earlier. He quickly emptied its contents on the floor of the bedroom and looked up triumphantly and incredulously at Hermione.
"Ah ha! You are a terrible liar. What kind of an imbecile comes to make an arrest without her wand on her? What, did you think your monstrous looks would frighten me into submission and I'd go willingly back to London?"
"I didn't know it was going to be you!" She yelled out, flustered. She hissed again in pain and gripped her broken ribs. Draco stared at her, silently begging her to go on. "I didn't know it was going to be you who owned this boat. That security guard, he told me the other day that there was one guy here who would take me where I needed to go for the right price with no questions asked. I…I didn't think it would be Draco—bane-of-my-existence, can't-even-stay-in-hiding-properly—Malfoy! I didn't think I needed a wand," she whispered the last part and turned a deep shade of pink.
"Let me get this straight: you had no idea I was living on this island?" He sat down on the steps and placed his head in his hands. "Are you telling me you're actually just here on some weird research-related vacation and I just happened to be the captain you needed for a quick trip?"
"It's not a 'weird research-related vacation' Malfoy, I am here on official Ministry business! Which is none of your concern either!"
"I'm sorry I'm just realizing how fucking bloody cruel God must be to have put you on my island with zero knowledge of my presence here. What the bloody FUCK!" He yelled into the bedroom. Hermione cringed and rolled her eyes at his temper tantrum.
"So…what now? Are you going to kill me now that you know there's no way I can defend myself? I mean, I'm severely injured, trapped on your boat in the middle of the ocean, and stupidly without my wand."
"Eat your fish. And give me a moment to calm down." He got up quickly, suddenly needing to be anywhere but that bedroom, and left to go eat his fish. As he ate he thought about Andreia and how angry she must be—not just because he had ended things with her in the most chicken-shit way possible but because he was confident the world would somehow let her know that it was all part of some cruel plot against him and his happiness. But as he quelled his hunger and thought more about this new piece of information, a new scenario began to formulate in his mind. He stood and deposited his plate and the other dishes in the sink and grabbed two oranges before heading back into the bedroom.
Hermione had finished her entire dinner and if Draco wasn't mistaken the plate looked licked clean. He took a seat on the steps and began unpeeling one of the oranges.
"Okay, the way I see it this is just a series of truly unfortunate events that neither one of us can be held wholly accountable for," he started. She snorted. Very unladylike.
"I don't know Malfoy, you blasting me with magic and almost killing me seems entirely your fault. What curse did you use by the way?" He ignored her question, sidestepping a different conversation he felt unnecessary at this time.
"As I was saying, I think there's a scenario here where we both walk away with at least something we both want—and something both of us will have to give up." He paused to gauge her reaction.
"I'm sorry did you want words of encouragement?" He rolled his eyes at her. If he didn't know any better he could swear he had traveled back in time and was talking to a 13 year old version of Granger.
"I will help you accomplish whatever it is you need to do for the Ministry—the real reason you came down to my island—if you let me sail off into the sunset afterwards without reporting my location to the Ministry when you return. The way I see it, we both win that way. I don't have to kill you and you don't have to throw a former schoolmate into Azkaban." She snorted again and rolled her eyes. He got up and handed her the unpeeled orange before sitting back down and getting to work on his own. She looked down at the orange questioningly and then back up at him.
"Let's assume for the sake of argument that I agree with this plan. How in the world do you expect me to face Shacklebolt and the others knowing that I let you get away when Aurors have been scouring the world looking for you?" Draco raised his eyebrow. Scouring the world? He had thought they'd given up but apparently they were more determined than ever to find him.
"I think the better question is, how are you going to win my trust and reassure me you won't tattle on me once I let you go? Because if I can't trust you I might as well toss you overboard." Hermione paled. Draco smirked.
"Not to press my luck Malfoy but it seems to me that you're taking an awfully big risk letting me go back—assuming you don't kill me before I have the chance. Why are you doing this? Why would you trust me?"
"Well for one I don't trust you. But I do trust all that Gryffindor nonsense about bravery and loyalty. I figure if I help you and get you home safely, you won't betray me. See if the tables were turned I think you'd be jolly well fucked," he chomped down on an orange sliced and grinned.
"No, that's not it. At least that's not the only reason," she paused and touched her finger to her temple as if turning on that part of the brain that led to her breakthroughs. "Oh I know what it must be! You're too scared to kill me and too cocksure of yourself to believe we could ever catch you even if I did tell the others where you've been hiding out." She began to clap slowly. "Bravo Malfoy, bravo. You've really lived up to all that Slytherin nonsense about cowardliness and arrogance."
Draco ground his teeth together and tried with all his might not to rip the pillow out from under her and smother her to death with his bare hands. He took a few deep breaths and focused on the only solution he had managed to find that didn't completely fuck him over or compromise the few morals he had left.
"Okay," he sighed, resigned. "Okay maybe you're right about me. Maybe I don't want your death on my hands and maybe I am overly confident in my abilities to escape the Ministry. And maybe you do know me. But don't forget that I know you too. And I'm willing to wager my freedom on your misplaced sense of honor. I saved your life—and don't try to tell me it was me who put your life in danger in the first place, that's irrelevant—I saved your life today. And I'm going to let you go back to your life in London with whatever thing you need to look good in front of your bosses. So don't try to tell me you don't owe me something in return." He stood and looked down at her bandaged form, weak and vulnerable before him. Her mouth slightly open and her eyes watering. She looked up at him, furious but defeated. She knew he was right. Just like he knew she was right. They stayed that way, looking at each other, daring the other to move first for a quite some time. And then Hermione yawned.
"Fine. You have a deal Malfoy. Now please just leave me be and let go to sleep." She tried to remove one of the pillows to make herself more comfortable but stilled when his hand gripped her wrist.
"No can do Granger. You have a concussion. You can't go to sleep for at least another 12 hours. So either you find a way to keep yourself awake or get ready to hear about the history and mechanics of sailing from yours truly."
"And how do you know that won't just lull me to sleep?"
"You know shit about sailing. Knowing you you'll probably get off learning something new." Hermione turned a deep shade of scarlet and glared at Draco. He laughed lightly and pulled a book off the shelf above the bed. "Here, something to read. If you need help staying awake, yell for me. I'll come check in on you periodically just in case you're too proud to admit you need my help." He turned to leave, grabbing another book for himself and her dirty dish from dinner.
"Malfoy, wait," she whispered, clutching the book to her chest. He looked over his shoulder at her, readying himself for another barb. "Thank you. For not letting me die. And for…I don't know…not killing me either." She smiled sheepishly and opened the book, burring her face in its pages. Draco walked back into the galley and kept the door slightly ajar. He finished cleaning up the dishes and then settled onto the bench and began to read his own book.
Xx
The night passed without incident and by early morning, after Draco had checked more of her vitals and given her another shot of antibiotics, Hermione was finally allowed to drift off into sleep. As she slept, Draco untethered the boat the set sail for the far side of the island. He knew they would need to stock supplies in the coming days but they had some time to get to the next nearest island before then. For now he would let her heal and learn more about what brought her to the island in the first place. After all, if he was going to ship her back to London with whatever it was she was looking for, he'd need to know some of the details.
As he sailed, taking his time to reach the other side of the island, he let his mind slip back into the familiar rhythm of moving his ship through the water. He let all his worries fall to the side as he focused on the sails and the wind, how he used his body to control the elements around him, and the feel of the ocean spray licking at his face. He would help Hermione so that he could keep this. This feeling. This freedom. There was no doubt in his mind that it was a worthwhile compromise.
Xx
"Malfoy?"
Draco slowly roused from his afternoon nap at the sound of Hermione's raspy voice calling up to him from below deck. He removed his hat from his face and got up, making his way down to the bedroom.
"What do you need?" He asked through a yawn.
"Well, um…I need to use the lavatory." She blushed. Draco straightened himself and considered his next words before speaking.
"Okay. It probably makes more sense to just have you shower and…relieve yourself…all at once. It may be more difficult to sit than to stand is what I mean." Now he was blushing a bit. He mentally kicked himself, trying to slip back into the healer mode he had so effectively embodied the other morning.
"Alright, fine. Could you help me stand? And you know…lead me to the lavatory?"
"The head."
"Pardon?"
"It's called a head on a boat. Lavatories are on land. On a boat you call it the head," he repeated robotically, still focusing on fighting the color that surely stained his cheeks.
"Oh. Yes. The head then." He made his way over to her bed and thought how best to set her on her feet. He resolved it would be easiest to pick her up and rotate her rather than pull her into a sitting position and help her stand. Without mentioning his plan to her he scooped her up and quickly rotated her so that her feet touched the ground. A small squeal was the only sign of her resistance towards his efforts.
When her feet were firmly on the ground, Draco wrapped his arm around her waist and used his other hand to steady her hip should she wobble from the rocking boat. She instinctively tried to move both her arms out to maintain her balance and hissed in pain when the broken arm moved too quickly.
"Don't move that arm," he said curtly.
'I know that you bloody prick," she spat. He raised an eyebrow at her and clicked his tongue. "Sorry. I really need to pee." He chuckled a bit and helped her move towards the head. They stopped at the small door and Draco realized they'd need a strategy going in. He placed her uninjured arm on the side of the boat so she could stand steady and ducked into the head. When he reemerged he began fumbling with Hermione's trousers before she slapped his hand away.
"Excuse me! What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm trying to get you out of these clothes so that you can wash and whatnot."
"I can do that myself!"
"Oh really? Try bending over. Go on." Hermione eyed him warily and then proceeded to bend forward ever so slightly. At about 15 degrees she hissed in pain and moved quickly back to her straightened position. She glared at him.
"My god could this be any more humiliating," she groaned through clenched teeth. "Alright fine. But I don't like this!"
"And you think I do? I have zero interest in being your nurse and giving you sponge baths and yet, here we are. So just be a good sport and suck it up." He noticed the worry and shame in her eyes and for a moment he considered just how awful he would be if their roles were reversed. He sighed. "I will do my best not to look and to be respectful. You have my word." He heard her snort. But she also relaxed a bit. He took that as the go-ahead.
Draco decided he'd start off slow and focus on her upper half first. He gently removed her blouse, still ripped open from when he'd had to drain her punctured lung, and decided to rip the remaining sleeve to make it easier to undress her. When she protested he reminded her that her blouse was covered in blood, sweat, and was already ripped. And he promised he'd give her another shirt to wear.
Next, he slowly removed the bandage from her torso exposing the black and blue bruises marking her broken ribs. She sucked in a breath when she saw the markings on her body.
"Holy hell Draco what did you do to me?" He once again ignored her question. Slowly he undid her splint and set aside the bandage there as well. Her wound was completely healed though caked in blood, bruised, and swollen. But on the whole a massive improvement from the day prior. He looked up into her eyes and tried to appear as calm as possible with his next words.
"Granger, I'm going to have to take off your trousers next. Once we've got those off we'll have to do your bra and knickers. I will do my best, and I promise I will really do everything I can not to see you. Okay? Please don't hit me. Once that's off I'll let you guide yourself into the head and I can yell out any directions for you if you need help using the shower. Alright?" She nodded curtly and squeezed her eyes shut as if he was about to crucio her. He rolled his eyes and crouched down in front of her.
He looked up at her, taking note of how rigidly she stood as though she was holding her breath and hoping this would all end sooner. Right there with you Granger, thought Draco.
He unbuttoned her trousers and pulled down the fly. He hooked his thumbs into the sides and gently started to pull down. He felt her tense some more and his progress halted. He pushed down a bit harder but still nothing.
"Erm, Granger. Again, don't hit me but I'm going to need you to relax a bit and maybe wiggle from side to side so I can get these trousers down. Please don't hit me." He heard her laugh a little and he found himself unexpectedly smiling. He had found a way to relax her a bit, despite the incredibly awkward situation they found themselves in.
She wiggled from side to side, as asked, and Draco quickly moved his hands to her bottom to pull down the trousers. When he realized what he had done his breath hitched and he felt himself turn bright red. He immediately removed his hands from her bottom and stumbled backwards against the wall. Hermione heard the commotion and opened her eyes to see Draco, on the floor, looking straight at her now exposed knickers. He looked up at her and saw her mortification. He tried to think of something, anything, to say to make this situation less awkward but instead just cast his eyes down, resumed his work on her trousers and then stood once the deed was done.
"I'm sorry about that. It's a reflex." Her eyebrows shot up. "Not like that, I just mean…well, you know. Look we got your trousers off without hurting you so all around a success." She laughed a little at his rambling.
"I hope that's not what you normally say to the women you undress." He stilled, suddenly thinking about Andreia and the hurt he must have caused her. Hermione tensed, perhaps realizing she had said the wrong thing to break the ice. "Well let's keep going. I still need that shower after all." He shook his head of the memories and refocused on the brown eyes in front of him.
"Right. Knickers and bra next," he winked at her and she rolled her eyes. "Here's my plan: I'm going to go behind you that way I don't see anything too horrific—ouch! No hitting!—and then I will turn around and let you hobble your way to the head. Alright?"
"Yes, fine. Let's just get this over with."
"Now that sounds much more like the kind of thing I hear when I'm with women." Hermione burst out laughing. She slapped her hand over her mouth and stared at him wide eyed, looking almost apologetic for her outburst. "I hope that was a laugh of incredulity because it was a joke."
"I'm sorry but that was actually rather funny," she looked up at him in amazement. He feigned hurt. "I'm serious Malfoy! I don't think I've ever heard you make a self-deprecating joke like that. It caught me off guard. Don't do that again or I might just think you're human."
"I'll take that as a compliment and assume you've always thought of me more as a god." He grinned at her, shocked at his own ability to make light of a situation with the Hermione Granger. "Alright alright, jokes aside here I go."
He circled behind her and placed his hand over the clasp of her bra. It wasn't a particularly fancy bra—just nude in coloring, similar to her skin tone, and relatively conservative. But there was something unquestionably sexy about unclasping a woman's bra. Draco had to take several deep breaths to remind himself whose bra he was unclasping. Hermione twitched as he exhaled and his eyes shot up to the back of her head, worried that he'd unnecessarily hurt her.
"I'm fine," she seemed to sense his worry. "Your breath just startled me a little that's all," she whispered.
He swallowed and resumed his work. Her bra was quickly unclasped and, doing his best to look anywhere other than her bare back, he slid the straps down her arms and let her gather it. Still looking off to the side he slid down to his knees and tried not to think about the rather round bottom in front of him. But he couldn't help but notice Hermione wore the kind of knickers with lace and the intricate pale pink detailing distracted him from his promise to be respectful. "Malfoy?" whispered Hermione.
He turned to the side and slowly pulled her lace knickers down to the floor where they pooled around her ankles. He rose swiftly, still staring off to the side so as not to see her exposed body. He turned abruptly and walked several paces away while he heard her wobble into the head for her wash. A few moments later the water could be heard coming through the faucet and an audible sigh of pleasure escaped Hermione's lips. Draco stiffened.
He had never heard that noise come from her before. His thoughts went immediately back to the bra clasp and the way her slightly tanned skin stretched over her lean back. She seemed so fragile. He knew otherwise—from unfortunate experiences—but seeing her standing there, depending on him to help her, she seemed so fragile. And then the lace knickers. He rolled his eyes. Those knickers were going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it.
Andreia never wore knickers like those. He frowned. He missed her. And he felt this odd pang in his chest when he realized he'd just been thinking about Granger rather than Andreia. Was that guilt? Why did he feel guilty? He would never see Andreia again and Granger had been practically naked in front of him. It was natural that his male, heterosexual body would respond the way it had to seeing her. That was it. He hadn't betrayed Andreia in some way—that was ridiculous. He brushed that odd feeling aside and turned to collect Hermione's discarded clothes and bandages. He'd need to reapply those when she emerged from her wash.
"Malfoy?" he stilled upon hearing his name, certain that he had done something wrong again. "Um…could you come in here? With your eyes closed?"
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes, I just…well, I can't really do anything with my arms. The pain is a little overwhelming. I…oh Merlin this is absolutely mortifying."
"No, it's not. I'll be in to help however I can. With my eyes closed. Just tell me what you need." He entered the bathroom with his eyes closed, as promised. She had shut off the water and he could hear the water dripping off of her. He decided to think of anything else.
"I don't think the blood is coming out of my hair. I…I'm going to put some shampoo in your hand and I need you to just sort of scrub, alright?" This was significantly better than what he had imagined. He though she was going to ask for a sponge bath or something. But just washing her hair? That was impersonal enough.
"Sure. Just tell me where to put my hands." She snorted again. "Yeah yeah, I say that to every woman. We've already established I'm awful with women in your mind." He could practically hear her smirking at him. At least she wasn't trying to hit him.
He felt the gel in his outstretched hands then felt her head duck under them and raise them up. He scooted closer so that he could get a better angle on her hair and started to scrub. Her hair was a rat's nest. He assumed it was largely because of all the blood but knew that a bushy thing like that must always be a hassle to clean.
But slowly, as he worked the shampoo into her hair, the tangles lost some of their volume and he could better navigate her scalp as a result. Without realizing it, he began to rub into her neck and the tops of her shoulders, staying gentle so as not to aggravate any of her bruises. He pushed his fingers back up her neck and into the mess of her hair and then froze as the most seductive, feminine moan he'd ever heard broke through his trance.
He felt Hermione tense up, clearly aware of the noise she had just made. He took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. He realized he had opened his eyes and was now staring down at her sudsy mass of hair. His hands continued their work as he stared down at her, still feeling her tense from her earlier cry of pleasure. He stayed focused on her hair and though he could see the outline of her back and bum, he didn't dare take his eyes off the back of her head.
"Malfoy, I think we can wash the soap out now," whispered Hermione. He flinched at the raspy quality of her voice.
"Um, right. You'll need to turn on the water and get under it I suppose." He watched through hazy eyes as she stepped forward and turned on the faucet. He immediately began rinsing out her hair, well aware that the water was seeping through his own clothes. Just as he watched the final white suds slide down her hair he became acutely aware of the very naked, very wet woman in front of him. He felt his heart beat quicken and noticed he was holding his breath. Then, to his absolute horror, he felt himself grow hard and strained against his khaki shorts.
Draco launched himself backwards as if he were running from his arousal as fast as he could. Hermione whipped her head around to see what the commotion was and locked eyes with a positively horrified and aroused looking set of gray eyes. Draco fell to the floor, squeezed his eyes shut, and all but crab-walked out of the head, kicking the door shut on his way out.
In the bedroom, on the floor, he caught his breath. He stared down at his shorts and cursed himself, Hermione, and the god who put him in this awful situation. After a moment or two he gathered himself and went up to the deck of the ship into the blinding light of the afternoon sun. Still panting he yanked off his sodden shirt and quickly removed his shorts. Left only in his briefs he dove overboard into the cerulean waters of the South Atlantic Ocean. When he came up for air he floated momentarily on his back, staring up into the sun, and thinking only of Hermione Granger's lace knickers and wet naked body.
"Fuck."
