Title: In These Dreams of Eternity

Author: Vashka

Rating: R

Summary: An adventure as old as Merlin. An unknown Prize. One magical ship. Exotic locations. Extreme danger. Two enemies. No wands. Destiny waits.

Genre(s): Action/Adventure, Romance

Warning(s): Mild Profanity, graphic sex

Timeline: EWE. Post-Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not intended to be a derivative work as that term applies to the rights of JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et al with regard to the world and characters created by Ms. Rowling in the Harry Potter books, films, et cetera. Rather, it is intended as a transformative work which comments upon the original. As such, no infringement is intended. No money is being made from this work. To the extent permissible by law, I retain the rights to my language/text/story. A Journey To The Center of the Earth was written by Jules Verne and a few elements of this story owe their origins to him. Also, I had a specific image from the picture book Dinotopia, by James Gurney in my head for a good portion of the story, so some credit goes to him. And I borrowed something from Pirates of the Caribbean. See if you can find it.

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Chapter Four: The Fourth Task

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Two and a Half Months Later

Hermione wished she had a pair of sunglasses. Preferably polarized.

Squinting against the blinding brightness, she barely made out the compass direction. She nodded towards the northeast part of the sprawling city. "This way."

"Which way?" Hermione was gratified that Draco was having the same optical difficulties, as this would make for less teasing later. Even if his teasing hadn't shifted into something that would have been amusing or even affectionate (sometimes) with Ron or Harry. Frustrated for once again over-analyzing the situation, she blinked hard against the harsh light.

She grabbed his hand, her sweaty palm sliding over his. Hermione felt somewhat self-conscious about perspiring so much, but figured it couldn't be helped. It was so bloody humid in this godforsaken jungle. "This way."

"Who builds a city out of gold on the goddamn equator? It's asinine." Draco muttered as they stumbled in the direction of the temple.

Hermione laughed. "Just as asinine as a quest for an unknown Prize? We could be going to all this trouble for a hundred pounds of salt, you know."

"You're making even less sense that usual, Granger." Draco said in his most pompous snob voice. Hermione knew that if she could see his expression, his lips would be curled in a perfect sneer. She tried not to think about how comforting his hand felt and the firm, comfortable grip he kept on her fingers even as he mocked her.

Hermione shrugged and tugged on his arm again, her fingers sliding on his sweat-slicked flesh. "It was worth more than gold in the middle ages."

"I can see why," Draco muttered. "I'm beginning to hate the stuff myself."

Blessedly, the sun went behind a tiny wisp of a cloud and Hermione could see again.

The City of Gold was highly overrated, in her opinion. For one, the sun issue made it impossible to see where you were going. After the third time running into a wall of solid gold, she was over the awe of the shiny beauty of the city. Also, gold didn't make for the safest of walkways. From a distance, she had seen Neville and Luna climbing the side of one of the impressive golden pyramids, and saw Neville take a cringe worthy tumble down, down, down that lovely gold staircase. Third, gold was heavy. Draco laughed his arse off at Hermione's first and only attempt to open one of the golden doors.

"Don't touch that! You'll burn your hand off, and I can't magick it better without my wand."

Fourth, whoever decided a city made of metal in a place that got this much sun must be a moron.

After her vision adjusted to the momentary cloud cover and the sunspots were finally gone, Hermione stole a glance at Draco. He did look rather dashing in a ferrety sort of way, she supposed. He wore loose clothing, like she did, and like hers; it was plastered to his body, the fine linen of his white shirt defining broad shoulders and deep pectorals...

Clearing her throat, Hermione looked up sharply, catching Draco's gaze on her gleaming, sweaty cleavage bared by the deep V in her shirt. Looking down quickly, she noted that sweat had made her thin shirt nearly transparent, and it was clinging to her curves like a lover. His gaze snapped up to hers and he quickly turned away.

Surely… that wasn't a blush? Thought Hermione in disbelief, sneakily trying to take a closer peek at his face.

Not Malfoy!

As she tried to determine if the color on Draco's face was a blush or sunburn, the powerful sun burned off the pathetic clouds, blinding Hermione once again. Stepping quickly towards the Temple, Hermione measured her breathing to try and slow down her racing heart.

Surely not!

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