Chapter Seven: In which Hermione helps the Flamels, and Draco makes friends

It took three days to get Draco's sleeping schedule back to normal. By that time he was also getting rather used to life on Spew. Just like on the Endeavour, nobody really took him seriously, however they were friendly with him. Ginny enjoyed poking fun at his mannerisms, Steve wouldn't stop calling him Draco Dragon (luckily, the nickname had not spread to the rest of the crew), and, curiously, the Captain refused to leave her quarters.

On his fourth day aboard the pirate ship, Ginny decided she had enough time to strike up a conversation with him. "So, Malfoy, what exactly did they teach you on that merchant ship of yours?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"I mean, what did you learn on the ship? Obviously, you know next to nothing about ships, that's why your Dad sent you away, right? So what did you learn?"

"I don't know." Draco looked away from her. "Mostly I swabbed the deck, you know... stuff like that... they taught me how to do a couple of knots, but I never tried anything."

"Huh. Would you like to?"

"What?"

"I said, would you like to?" Ginny rolled her eyes, speaking in a mocking tone as she dragged out every syllable.

"Uh... I guess? Sure?" Draco wasn't sure what answer she really wanted out of him.

"Okay then! Hey! Lionel!" Ginny called out to one of the men who was tightening a rope against the bannister. He looked up, and nodded. "D'you think you could teach Malfoy here a thing or two about tying stuff together?"

"Bring 'im over." The man called out. Ginny gave Draco a little push that sent him stumbling over to the tall pirate.

"Malfoy, this is Lionel, our 'rope expert'." Ginny introduced with a grin. "Lionel, this is Draco Malfoy, you know, he'll be staying on our ship for a while, and I don't want him to do nothing for his time here. So... could you show him the ropes?" Ginny giggled slightly at the bad pun, and Lionel rolled his eyes.

"I'd 'ardly call myself a rope expert, Miss Ginny, but sure enough." He tightly pulled at the thick rope he was holding, and gave it a pat. He stood up, and held his hand out to Draco. Draco shook it. "Let's see what you already know..." He took a couple of smaller, thinner ropes out of his pocket. "Always carry 'em around with me, 'elps with my nerves, y'know?"

"Yes." Said Draco, not really knowing at all, but not wanting to be rude. He'd learnt his lesson from his previous journey on the Endeavour; making friends could turn out to be useful in the long run, just like his mother had once told him.

"Well, I'll leave you to it! Thanks, Lionel!" Ginny poked her tongue out, and swaggered off to another part of the ship to talk with another sailor, Wayne Portchester, to make sure that they were still on the right course. With Hermione holed up in her 'study', hardly tearing her eyes off of the map (that Ginny still thought belonged in the bottom of the ocean), Ginny was stuck with all the work they normally did together. It was tiring, and to be frank, Ginny was sick of it.

After half an hour had passed since she'd dumped Draco on Lionel, she took a moment to peer at the pair out of the corner of her eye. Lionel was casually leant against the railing, Draco sat on a barrel beside him. The blond's face was scrunched up in concentration as he nervously manipulated one of the ropes. From the looks of it he was creating a pretty basic knot that was used to tie things down, but he was still having difficulty. He threaded the rope through a loop and pulled it taut. The knot collapsed, and the teen threw the rope down as he groaned loudly, half of the crew looking up to see what the commotion was about. Lionel was a good teacher, and didn't berate him, simply picking the rope back up and showing Draco exactly where he had gone wrong. Ginny could tell he was going slowly- she hadn't been kidding when she'd called him a 'rope expert', the man could complete extremely complicated knots in under a minute, yet his hands moved slowly as he explained to Draco (in a calm, level voice Ginny never would have had if she'd been teaching him) how the knot was tied.

In her opinion, the Malfoy boy was a fucking useless sailor. Ginny understood that not all people could succeed at practical skills first time, but he was proving to be borderline incompetent at all of the basics of sailing. What his father was thinking, sending the idiot to sea alone, was beyond her. If Ginny had been in charge of his well-being, she probably wouldn't have let him out of the house. Of course, if Ginny had been in charge of his well-being, she probably wouldn't have cared anyway.

She turned, stalking up one end of the deck to the other. It wasn't often that she felt the need to pace, but recently she'd felt caged. It was odd, since Spew was a place she'd often associated with freedom. Ginny guessed it had something to do with the extra duties Hermione had dumped on her. If Ginny had had it her way, the map would be at the bottom of the ocean... though the idea of an adventure was tempting. One thing was for certain, Ginny wouldn't be letting Hermione get this obsessed again if she could help it. Honestly, if Ginny had to spend another moment looking out at the ocean without seeing anything different, she would scream.

There was a shout from above. "Land ahoy, Quatermaster! An island, to the northeast!"

Ginny almost jumped for joy. The direction seemed to match up with the directions Dumbledore had given them, the island the Flamels currently lived at was finally in sight! She grabbed a hold of the rigging, swinging herself up a couple of holds before climbing up the rest until she was halfway to the crows nest. "How far away?"

"Not to far, ma'am, I'd say; keep a steady course in the direction we'll be there within a day, wind be willing!" The young lad perched excitedly on the edge of the crows nest replied. Ginny wasn't the only one who'd been itching to stretch her legs on land, it seemed. She climbed back down and went to the helm, but Wayne had already heard the news and had altered their course 5 degrees to angle them straight towards the island. She thanked him, and practically skipped her way to the room Hermione had holed herself up in since the raid on the merchant ship.

"Hermione!" Ginny yelled, as she burst through the door. Hermione jumped, almost knocking over a lantern perched beside her. She blinked a couple of times, having almost fallen asleep when the redhead arrived.

"Ginny, what is it?" Hermione asked tiredly.

"God, Hermione, you look terrible." Ginny said, momentarily forgetting her huge news. It was true. Hermione's hair was even more wild than usual, she'd managed to put her jacket on backwards at some point, and there were bags bigger than Spew's main mast sagging under her eyelids.

"Thank you Ginny." Hermione replied derisively. She stretched, yawning. "I just need a good nights sleep."

"You need several. When's the last time you slept?"

"I was about to, when you walked in." Hermione shook her head, to regain her focus. "I think I may have pinpointed one of the islands on the left corner of the map. Now all I have to do is..."

"Hermione, get your head out of that map for a minute, would you? You're drowning yourself in it." Ginny said, walking over to her friend. "I get that you want to find out where it is, but it isn't worth losing sleep over. Besides, you have other things to think about right now."

"Like what?" Hermione sounded genuinely concerned through her thick tiredness. "Is there unrest on deck?"

"I guess- they're excited, Hermione. We've spotted land. It's the Flamels island, we'll more than likely be there by morning." Ginny's eyes sparkled.

"Oh. That's good."

"I know! Urgh, I've felt so cooped up for the past few days. I hope you don't mind me disappearing on you while we're there, I want to do some exploring." Ginny said.

"That's fine, Gin'. You know it is." Hermione smiled. "I'm sorry. I've been so preoccupied with this map, I didn't even think about helping you organise and run the ship. God, you must feel stressed."

"Just a little." Ginny said, before grinning. "Nothing a bit of chocolate can't cure."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ginny, you know it's expensive, and that I'm keeping it in case Remus ever comes to pay a visit."

"But Hermione!" Ginny moaned, dragging out her friends name as she collapsed onto a chair pathetically. "I've been working myself to the bone for you, don't I deserve something in return?"

"You want a raise?"

"No I don't want a raise." Ginny snapped. "I want some chocolate." Her tone turned persuasive. "Just a little bit, you won't even miss it! Please?" She blinked slowly. "For me?"

Hermione sighed, and stood, walking over to a cabinet built into the wall. Inside the cabinet, amongst other things, was a small box. And in the box was half a bar of chocolate, the rest having already been eaten by Ginny, Hermione, and some others Hermione had chosen to share it with. "Fine. But only a little bit." Hermione said, breaking off a small amount from the corner. "A tiny bit, really. Hardly enough to sink your teeth into."

Ginny cheered as Hermione gave it to her, popping it into her mouth immediately. The dark treat was slightly bitter, but smooth as she swallowed, and Ginny smiled. "Thanks so much, Hermione."

"Yeah, yeah. You aren't getting any more."

"I won't ask for any more... for a while." Even if Hermione hadn't seen Ginny's smirk, she could have heard it from her tone. "So, yeah, we'll be reaching the Flamels by tomorrow morning. Remember, Dumbledore recommended us for the task personally, so we have to be presentable. I'll have the crew use a bit of the fresh water reserves to give themselves a wash down; you should wash too. And get a good nights rest... and also put your jacket on the right way."

"You sound like your mother." Hermione chuckled, and Ginny reached over to smack her.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you, since you're doing such a good job right now." Ginny said. "If you're going to be huffy, I'll be on my way. Try not to get sucked back into map world again."

"No promises, Ginny!" Hermione called out as her friend left. As soon as she was gone, Hermione made an effort to clear away the things on her table. For all her temper and nagging, Ginny was right. She did need to sleep. As she crawled into the space she had created a bed inside, her last thought was that she hadn't asked Ginny how Draco was getting along. She hoped he wasn't complaining to much about his situation.


True to the young sailors estimation, Spew reached the small, forested island just after the sun came up. Draco felt better than he had in ages, having slept a solid 8 hours in his bed (he'd been sneaking bed earlier than everybody else, and nobody seemed to have noticed yet) and had his first bath (if you could call it that) in weeks. And now, to top it off, he was going to be walking on solid ground again! He'd grown homesick for the stable feeling of being on land, after the constant rocking of the boat that he'd only just found his balance for. Everybody else on board seemed to be happier as well, and were joking and laughing with each other.

Hermione had come out of her quarters for the first time in (what seemed like) forever, and Draco had noticed she'd made an attempt at making her hair behave. She also must have a spare set of clothes, Draco realised, as the white shirt she wore was actually white, and not the dirty, creamy white Draco was used to seeing.

Ginny, too, looked perkier than Draco had seen her so far. He'd overheard her talking to Lionel, apparently she was going exploring in the islands forest as Hermione helped the old couple who lived there, and she needed Lionel to watch over Spew while they were gone. Draco had noticed how she'd seemed antsy lately, maybe exploring would calm her.

The ship dropped anchor a couple of miles away from shore, and a couple of rowing boats were prepared to take them to the shore. All of the crew had wanted to go, but there had to be some people on board the ship to watch over it. Therefore, the crew had split into two groups: the first visiting during the morning, and the second visiting during the afternoon, switching over at midday. Only three of the crew were staying on the island for their whole stay: Ginny, Hermione, and Draco, whose reason for staying was that neither of the girls trusted him to keep out of trouble if he wandered off alone.

As they approached the island, there were two people stood waiting for them, waving at them happily. They were older than Draco thought they would be, both of them with long grey-silver hair tied back, away from their tanned, wrinkled faces. Their eyes were kind, but Draco couldn't really tear his eyes away from the wart on the side of the old man's nose. When the boats had hit the floor, the couple immediately approached them. The woman, wearing a slightly dirty, loose fitting dress that came just below her knees, hugged Hermione and patted her back, doing the same to Ginny, and then (much to his displeasure) Draco. The old man, whose glasses hung from a small rope around his neck, shook their hands in turn.

"Welcome to our small homestead, fellows," the old man said, "Albus said we should be expecting your help soon. My name is Nicholas Flamel, and this is my wife, Perenelle."

"Thank you. My name is Hermione, this is my First Mate Ginny... and this is Draco Malfoy." Hermione said. "My crew are also going to come ashore, but I promise that they won't stray very far from the beach."

"I, on the other hand, am off to see just how far I can get into that jungle of yours." Ginny said. "Very nice to meet you, I'm sure we'll speak again after Hermione's done here, bye." With the words rushed out of her mouth, Ginny made a beeline for the break of the jungle. Hermione seemed a bit unease at Ginny's rushed departure, but Nicholas and Perenelle simply laughed.

"Ah, she's spirited." Perenelle said. "I remember babysitting her mother." At Draco's look, she laughed again. "Yes, I am quite old, dear. Turning on 70 now!"

"More like 75..." Her husband mumbled jovially, earning himself a light slap. "You know you don't look any older than 63." Draco looked away, feeling grossed out by their affections for each other.

"You've done very well for yourself." Hermione said politely. "Ah, Dumbledore didn't tell me much about your situation, only that you could benefit from my help..."

Nicholas got the hint, and began to explain to the remaining two his life story. "Of course, of course. When I was younger, I worked as a free-lance scribe. That's when I heard about it."

"Heard about what?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.

"The Fountain of Youth, my dear." Perenelle said in a low voice. "Oh, yes, it exists, we're sure of it."

"A young man approached me one day, asked me to write out a little poem for a girl he was courting," Nicholas explained, "and I did it, I was bored, I would have done it for free if we weren't pretty much penniless. And I did it, and he then told me he had no money. Of course, I was, I was furious. All that work, for nothing. He said he'd give me water from the Fountain of Youth instead. Of course, I didn't believe him, who would, you know, who would, but I took the water anyway, he paid me back later. But the water did have magical properties. My wife and I, well, it lasted for three years, we only took small amounts at a time, and it did stop us aging. And we haven't died yet, despite being past our time, yes, we're still here. So, you see, we knew it had to exist. We've spent the rest of our lives hunting it down, going different places and looking up, looking up maps. And at last, we think we've found one, we've found a map that, that leads to the Fountain of Youth."

"So we're going to be escorting you there?" Draco said.

"No, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione shook her head. "Mr. Flamel and his wife have asked me to study their maps, since they aren't sure where exactly the Fountain of Youth is, what area the maps are referring to."

"That sounds boring." Draco commented, and Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'm going over there instead, it looks more fun." He turned on his heel and walked back towards the beach, where some of the crew were setting up small shelters and carrying stuff from the boat underneath it. Hermione snorted as he left, apologising for his 'impolite behaviour'. Honestly, as far as Draco was concerned, she was the most boring pirate ever.

He spent the best part of the morning getting to know some of the crew better. Firstly, Steve and some of his friends decided to teach Draco how to fish.

"A lot of fish turn up 'round islands like this. A lot of them look too pretty t'eat, but it's a good source of meat, don't ya think?" A guy named Akakios (though most called him Aka) said. He'd once been a fisherman, but he'd had little luck fishing after around a decade of being in the business, so he'd become a sailor to keep his family comfortable. Though he hadn't intended to become a pirate, Hermione offered him good wages, so he couldn't complain.

"Uh, sure." Draco replied. Honestly, he found the whole rod-fishing concept confusing. Another of the group, Lei, had wanted to show them all a form of hand-fishing he'd learnt when he was younger. There had been a river that was excellent for it, however the fish had congregated up stream, and Hermione had forbidden them to go past the tree-line. "I don't see how Ginny gets to go into the jungle, but we can't."

"Well," said the final member of the group, Dermid, who had been working on Spew since the beginning. He made it out as if he had known Hermione during her childhood, and Draco thought about asking her about it later. "Well, Hermione has known her for a long time. They're very close, and they trust each other with their lives."

"Are you saying she doesn't trust us?" Draco snapped.

"Of course not." Dermid shook his head. "I'm just saying that Hermione has faith that Ginny'll come back before we leave. I don't think she'd let you anywhere near that forest, there could be animals in there, and how would you defend yourself? You can't even lift a sword."

Draco grumbled something under his breath, and yanked his rod back as he felt a pull. A small, grey fish wriggled around on Draco's hook, so small it wasn't bigger than his pinkie finger. The men laughed, and Draco pouted, throwing the fish back in the water.

"It's okay, Draco." Said Lei, placing a rather large fish he'd just caught into the bucket they were keeping it in. "It takes practise to become good at something. What's it they say? The thing about the city..."

"Rome wasn't built in a day?" Dermid supplied, his Scottish accent thick.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Probably because they took breaks." Draco said. "I'm sick of the sun, I'm going to sit down." He put the rod back next to the rest of them, and headed for the small area of shade the crew had created. As soon as he sat down, he was lured into a game of Liar's Dice by three of the other crew members: a black-haired guy named Erez, and the brown-haired brothers Roy and Scotty. Luckily, there was no money involved, the main reason Draco agreed to play in the first place.

Around midday, however, his new acquaintances all had to go back to the ship. He was tempted to go with them, but they told him that he had to stay on the island, since that's what Hermione wanted. Draco kicked the sand under his feet as they pushed the small boat out to sea. They'd left most of the things that they'd brought behind, for the next half of the crew to use during their free time, and had taken the fish with them, to put out of the heat. Draco was suddenly struck with boredom. He looked over towards the other small shelter that had been there when they arrived: the Flamel's makeshift home, where Hermione and the elderly couple were hunched over a small desk, looking at maps. He decided, since there was nothing better to do, he'd go over and have a look at what they were doing.

"Hi." He greeted, as he approached. Hermione didn't look up from the maps, tracing a path with a finger. Nicholas looked up briefly to nod, his glasses slipping down his nose. Perenelle greeted Draco politely, and offered him a seat, which he took. She then offered him a drink of water, as well as some food, which he also accepted. Hermione looked over and commented how the old woman was spoiling him, and Draco wondered how she'd react if she saw how he'd been treated at home: this was common courtesy compared to it.

"I think I'll be glad for the distraction." The old woman said, sitting down across from him on the only other chair under the canvas. "All those maps and figures are confusing me a bit."

For a while, Draco and Perenelle talked to each other. Draco enjoyed telling her about the riches of his childhood, Perenelle having lived in a similar situation for a while with her first husband. She revealed to him that Nicholas was her third, and the love of her life, as far as she was concerned. Draco found the exploits of her love life quite interesting, recognising some of them as situations he made up when he was a child, playing with his dolls. Wanting to tell her more about his 'adventures' as well, he told Perenelle about the time he and Blaise had been climbing the rocks by the dock, and Draco had fallen off and almost broken his leg.

Even though Draco did find the conversation interesting, he soon got bored of it. "Hey, Granger, when are you going to be done?"

"Don't rush me, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione replied, not looking up. "I think... I've just about found an area that matches this map, but it may still take a couple more hours."

Draco groaned. "This is taking too long." He stood up. "Thank you for the company, Mrs Flamel..."

"Please, call me Perenelle, dear. Or Nellie."

"… But I think I'll be heading back to the beach now."

"Okay, then, dearie. Have fun!"

Down at the beach, Draco found himself surrounded by people he didn't really know as well. Before, Steve had been there to introduce most of them, but Draco found himself being bombarded with names from all directions. He knew he'd never remember any of them. Feeling alienated, he sat down in the corner of the shelter. He wasn't alone for long, however, as a boy not too older than him came and sat down next to him.

"Don't mind me sitting down next to you for a while, do ya? It's a bit too loud over there for me." He said, pointing to the gaggle of pirates sat bathed in the sun. "Uh, once again, I'm Henry."

"I'm not going to remember your name." Draco said, realising too late that was rude of him. "I mean, I've had to learn too many names today, they're all going to get muddled up."

"Well then, just call me Guy until you're less muddled." The boy conceded. "Aside from being a pretty common term for man, it's also my last name."

"Okay then." Draco nodded. "Um, my name is Draco."

"I know." Henry Guy replied, then his eyes widened with embarrassment. "I mean! I mean, like, you're the only new one on the ship, so it was easy to learn your name... from, like, other people." Draco nodded.

The two boys sat in silence for a while, and then Guy pulled a small dagger and a piece of driftwood of an equal size out of his pocket. At Draco's curious glance, he explained, "My dad taught me how to whittle. He's on another ship, see. My Mum... She died a couple of years ago, from an illness. Before that she used to play chess with me, since she couldn't go out much... We had to sell her set, once she died, to make ends meet... so I'm making a new one. I'm making all the pieces out of driftwood and jetsam, see, so I know they'll float if I lose them overboard- it'll be easier to get them back that way, see... Hey, you want me to teach you how to whittle? Woodwork is a lot of fun, really!"

Still bored, Draco agreed, and the two spent the rest of their stay on the island sat with knives in their hands, and a look of intense concentration on their face. One of the other sailors (Draco was half sure their name was Collie, until he said it out loud and they corrected it to Oliver) lent Draco a spare, but it was very dull. On one hand, this was a bad thing, because it made cutting the wood harder, however if it had been as sharp as Guy's, Draco would probably have been left with only one hand. As it was, when Hermione called out that she had finished helping Nicholas, and that they had to pack up, Draco's hand was covered in small cuts. It had been fun, though.

Draco went to speak to Hermione as the others took down the sticks they'd used to prop up the shelter. He feigned interest in what she had done, though they both knew he was simply trying to avoid packing up. As he approached, Hermione lifted her hands up to her mouth and yelled Ginny's name in a louder voice than Draco had ever heard her use.

"Small chance of her not hearing that." Draco commented, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "So, how are we going to fit everything and everyone plus the Flamels onto the boats?"

Hermione looked at him oddly. "What do you mean? The Flamels aren't coming with us."

"What? But what about the Fountain of Youth?" Draco asked her, frowning.

"We aren't going to find the fountain, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione shook her head. "Didn't you hear me this morning. I was helping them locate it, theoretically, on the map. I have no interest in actually looking for it."

"But... But... You're a pirate!" Draco exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "You're meant to be doing things like this! Hunting down treasure, racing to find mythical beings and legendary artefacts! And all you're concerned with is maps?"

"I think you need to stop listening to everything you hear about pirates, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione said humorously. "It's not like that... constantly. I helped the Flamels with their map, and in return they gave us some of their food, drink, and I also got a bit of money out of the deal as well!" She held up a brown bag that jingled as she shook it. "It also turns out that Nicholas learnt quite a bit of Nahuatl when he worked as a scribe, so he was also able to translate my map for me, isn't that great?" She grinned widely, her eyes sparkling.

"I guess?"

"No, it is! He's translated the island names on there, and I recognise half of them now! I was right, the coastal patterns have changed a bit, but I now know where it's talking about. And it's not to far from here, only a day or so away, and..."

"Hermione, I thought you promised me you'd focus on the Flamels map, not yours?" Both Hermione and Draco jumped as Ginny emerged from the trees, looking slightly angry.

"I did." Hermione said. "I helped them with their map before I mentioned the subject to them."

"But you were thinking about it."

"Not hard! Just a tiny little bit." Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, you know that I always put jobs in front of my own personal goals." Ginny sighed, but nodded. "And now that we know where the map points to, we can go look."

"If Nicholas gets word back to Dumbledore you didn't destroy the map, he's probably going to be pissed." Ginny warned.

"I know. But I think Dumbledore might be interested as well." Hermione said. She clapped her hands. "Now let's get back to the ship. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure we'll be having fish tonight!"

"Great!" Draco cheered, rubbing his belly. "I'm famished too."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Malfoy, Perenelle gave you a large lunch, how can you be hungry?"

"I'm a growing boy."

"Or maybe you're a growing pig." Ginny snorted under her breath. Hermione laughed.

"Hey!"

A/N: Firstly, I'd like to ignore the fact that solid chocolate was not first made until the mid-1800s. I debated writing drinking chocolate instead, but normal chocolate makes more sense, so we're just going to pretend that solid chocolate was made around 10-50 years prior to this fic, okay?

Another long chapter! I know I'm posting it a bit early, but I figure the sooner the better right? I've pretty much finished the next chapter as well, unless I combine it with the ninth chapter as well (which I might do, but I might not, I don't know yet)... There were a lot of new characters in this chapter, so make sure to check the info in my profile if you get confused!

Please review!

~Comix