*Waves* Hello, my lovely readers! Are we enjoying the summer? Once again, my gratitude for the cleaning-up Magzillasaurus always does to make this comprehensible :)

Day Forty-Two

"Hey, Prikens...Pimkens...no….Perkins, yes that's it! Perkins, I'm sorry, me and names…" Draco sneaked literally behind Hermione's back using a perfectly timed distraction from Diana to grab the butler by his collar, "I need your help."

Between the wizard and the butler a cease-fire was in force, mainly to appease his witch. The slimy tosser wouldn't rise in his list of those in high regard anytime soon, but at the moment, he needed the damn plonker.

"Mr. Malone, what can I do for you?" The butler sugarcoated his question, as his duty demanded it.

"We're doing Sydney next right? An overnight stay?" The man nodded, and Draco continued, "I read that you can attend an opera… you see, I want to surprise my lady with a nice show, but I don't know which one we can attend." It pained him to ask the man for help, but there wasn't an Owlery on board to make the necessary requests was there?

"I see, Mr. Malone. I'll make the necessary inquiries, sir, the Sydney Opera House has an outstanding reputation, their performances are magnificent." The blond just rose a tiny little in the butler's respect, clearly wanting to spoil his lovely lady quite romantically.

"Well, I want to keep this a surprise for Hermione. Can I count on your discretion?" Don't ruin it or I'll hex your arse behind her back.

"I understand, Mr. Malone." If it were any other passenger, Perkins would have winked in the conspiracy, but the blond remained the skinflint…

Though seconds later, the butler barely refrained from dropping his mouth in surprise; Draco shoved a brand new hundred-pound note into his hand, "Is this enough? I'm not used to the Muggl-Brittish currency, you see?"

"Thank you, Mr. Malone, there's no need…" God bless that lovely woman, the young Scrooge is learning some manners. "I'll contact you, stealthily." Bowing once more, he was left speaking to himself, but he forgave the young man; the blond was generous in his tip, plus Miss Granger was heading their way….

-oOo-

"Is there something wrong? I saw you talking to Perkins." Hermione caught Draco's sneaking out, hoping both men had a polite exchange of words. Perkins might have softened a little towards her wizard, but she suspected it was only limited to when he spoke to both of them.

"No, he's just checking with me to make sure we don't miss the bus." Did she buy it? Luckily, the slimy bastard was talking to another couple, ignoring the Hogwarts pair for the moment. Instants later, it was time to deboard.

-oOo-

The mass of tourists docked at Noumea, the capital of the French territory located on a small peninsula in the southwest corner of New Caledonia's main island Grand Terre, east of Australia. Almost halfway through their cruise.

Draco felt like a reborn wizard, holding her hand determinedly and gazing straight forward, radiating happiness.

Today, his witch was joining him like old times, in complete synergy with him, the contrast couldn't be more significant compared to the last port. There was no doubt about their relationship, nor if he had permission to touch her.

No, this time, you would have to peel him away from her - he'd duel who ever tried, in that case - and his interest wasn't solely focused on discovering what this piece of paradise had to offer. Indeed, his Slytherin traits were curious to locate a perfect spot and experience a new unforgettable tryst. To make her blush and come undone around his cock; bring out her naughty Slytherin side he loved so much, despite her dismissal.

But for now, he perceived the arrival of the Arcadia to this New Caledonia Island as setting foot on a new piece of an absolute paradise. The green colours so vivid, the water so blue and the sand begging to be tested with their bare feet.

This time, the roles were reversed. Discovering information about the Kanak people awakened a curiosity within the wizard, the background screaming mystically in his belief, "Love, see… these Kanak people are supposedly descended from the prehistorical Lapita culture. It says they are the founders of the Polynesian cultures we've been visiting lately."

"Let me see…" However, her attempts to retrieve her tour guide failed one by one, as Draco kept the book out of reach and pointed out with his finger to what he considered utterly fascinating.

He snorted loudly, nose turned up, "Can you believe how rude this is, love? The foreigners called these people Kanaka Maoli, easily translated from Hawaiian into ordinary people. Why call these people ordinary? They don't know them!"

Hermione scrunched up her face at his indignation. Shrugging, she commented, "Reminds me of a certain society, very close to home." Funny how he felt offended on behalf of this population… He gave her a strange look, not making the connection straight away. Covertly, she lifted the charm on her arm to flash him her scar.

His gaze darkened, "I asked for your forgiveness about that specific term, Hermione."

"I'm well aware, but this term…" the finger ticked at the mark, "And the Kanaka Maoli label is a bit of one and the same to me. What's unknown gets described as inferior, filth." But before their conversation would turn into new bickering between them - he had apologised profoundly already - she jerked her chin towards her book, "Is there something more interesting about this culture?"

"How they were enslaved and ended up under French rule..." The rustling of a turning page floated between them as he read a little further before grunting disgustedly, "Agh! It hurts me already by simply looking at it!"

"What hurts you, slavery?" The bus brought them to the parking lot of the Tjibaou Cultural Centre and patiently, they queued towards the exit.

"No, well yes that too, but that's not what I meant. This penis gourdes-thingy, imagine my euh wand incarcerated inside that tube!"

Hermione snickered, "I know you're well-built, but I doubt if your wand fits that far inside the thinner part." She pointed out at the slimmer section, which pointed upwards on the picture. The long yellow tube was worn by an indigenous warrior tightly to the body held up by a thin cord around the man's waist. Its broader base looked attached around the member, but it only covered the penis itself, leaving the ballsack bare. "I wonder if it symbolises how well-endowed these men are, the size of their wands when at full capacity..."

"Do you have complaints?" His side-eye with lifted eyebrow carried a heavy 'really?' vibe. During his youth, Draco had established with certainty that his Malfoy-wand was slightly above average. Even today, he was still more than satisfied with his body's appearance. Yet, the thought of having something imprisoning his most sensitive body part gave him the shivers. The comeback was out before he knew it, "Plus, I am bigger than your Duracell friend, remember?"

"Relax my big hero, I know." She grinned, patting his pectorals, "Hey, I just got an idea! Let us buy one for your father… how small should it be?" The mocking glint shined brightly in her brown eyes, wishing she could see Lucius Malfoy's face as he unwrapped his phallocrypt gift.

"Minx." It forced him to reflect on how his father would adjust to the new reality: his grandchildren half-bloods, and a Muggleborn for a daughter-in-law an addition to their family tree. Nevertheless, it was: adapt or get lost. Hermione was the best thing he had in his life, and his father could go and have a fit if he didn't comply.

-oOo-

They stood before the Tjibaou Cultural Centre, which was everything but a traditional type of museum like the many Hermione visited with her parents. Facing the ocean, large soaring pods - symbolising Kanak huts - stood in a row, constructed from large curved laminated Iroko wooden beams and steel. They formed three clusters of different heights, the bigger pod in the centre of each group representing the Great Hut of a Kanak Chief. Its architectural beauty was breathtaking, which appealed to the Muggleborn and intrigued the Pureblood.

All the structures were connected to a flat lower building, allowing each visitor to move between huts - called cases - the centre of each housing a wide variety of expositions underneath a smartly designed double roof. The camera worked overtime, the blond finger snapping Draco's impulses, other times the little requests from his witch. Following their guide, the pair admired the contemporary art exhibition, watched a short movie evoking the local culture, and were awed at the tributes to the Kanak heritage, including monumental sculptures symbolising the tradition reborn.

The last case paid homage to the slain Kanak leader, after which this centre was named, Jean-Marie Tjibaou. The son of a Kanak Chief had risen to power and envisioned a cultural centre blending the artistic and linguistic heritage of his people, but was assassinated while fighting for Kanak's independence from France. Harshly enough, it was a fellow citizen, an activist that ended his life who believed that New Caledonia would never be independent. At present, New Caledonia held autonomy while still belonging to the European country.

"The Muggle-Born and the Wizarding community shed blood for nothing twice. How much is a life worth nowadays?" Draco reflected while reading through the history of the island. The texts were all in French, but between the two, they were able to grasp the content, thanks to his heritage - the Malfoy's French ancestry and the tradition of learning their mother-tongue - and her ear for languages.

"Sometimes, not even a penny." She laced his fingers and pulled him outside to continue on the second part of their visit, the Kanak Pathway. The trail took them first towards three conical huts, wooden frames built on earthen plinths and thatched covered roofs that resembled the traditional housing. The site was surrounded by totems and other sculptures, nearly all of them neatly captured by Draco for a later review.

The pathway continued through mangroves and pines displaying in the most natural way the native plant species all neatly labelled in French, English and Japanese highlighting not only their important medicinal use but also the symbolism and how they demonstrated the five stages of the mythical founder of the Kanak People. Draco was unfortunately under a time restraint; otherwise, he would have spent more than a day at this place, reading through all the descriptions and taking notes for future use, the potioneer in him revelling in the wide variety of indigenous flora.

"I can see the smoke rising from your head." To Hermione, this was a pleasure to watch. Herbology wasn't her strongest faculty, and the majority of the plants were a mystery, but seeing the wizard skipping almost nothing wherever they passed, her spirit rejoiced at his visible joy. This was a complete reversal of roles, for once he was the swot, the know-it-all, the platinum blond bookworm.

Had Harry or Ron been here, they would have walked over the uneven path, humming here or there just to do her a favour but move on because this wasn't about Quidditch. Draco, on the contrary, had to be pulled towards the bus before it left and she wasn't so at ease about finding the way back on their own. This wasn't like San Francisco or even Hawaii. "Draco, we must go."

"Just that plant over there…" He jogged quickly towards that one last stop.

"You've said the same thing five stops ago, Draco we really have to go." It pained her to pull him away, but this wasn't the place to miss their boat; she had no idea if there was a wizarding community on this island at all, in case of emergency.

"Ah, I know…" The fingers raked through the blond tresses, his fringe was glued to his forehead from the sweat. The sun shined warmly on their skin, and the drops combined with the sunscreen stuck his hair to his skin. "So much to watch, so little time to do so."

"We can always return, use Australia as our travelling point." The idea brightened his spirit.

"I love your quick thinking." He pecked her lips.

Their guide gave them one extra minute for the use of the bathroom, and both used the opportunity to refresh quickly. Draco's face was still dripping by the time he joined her in the bus, but he refused the handkerchief to dry his skin. The drops of water on his skin were a blessing.

-oOo-

Under the large beige umbrella that did nothing to shade them from the heat, they enjoyed a refreshing juice blend of mango, apple and pineapple while waiting for the main dish to be served, Bougna, in its chicken version, mixed with root vegetables - yams and sweet potatoes - plus coconut milk. The entire mixture was cooked in an earthen oven wrapped in banana leaves.

After a while, the server placed the bowl of bougna with the banana leaves opened to reveal and two forks, this wasn't the type of meal to be spooned over to a plate, as the etiquette demanded, but to be eaten from its serving bowl. The earthy aromas mixed with the tender chicken and the big chunks of vegetables stapled according to their consistency, made their tummy's growl in hunger, "Mia, I can eat quite a lot, but I don't think we'll finish this by ourselves."

"Draco, keep talking, and in the meantime, I'll steal all my favourite pieces, this sweet potato is just yummy." Stabbing an orange piece, she danced the fork before his mouth before devouring its content with big munching movements. The next goal was stolen right under her nose. The murderous look was everything but menacing, in Draco's opinion.

The pleasant silence was somewhat disturbed by a loud couple behind them, the lady commenting loudly, "I wonder if the French regime still tests nuclear submarine weapons around these waters."

The companion remarked, "I hope not, the last one was in '96, if I'm not mistaken," while he chewed on a shrimp tail.

Draco mouthed, "Nuclear submarine weapon?"

Hermione flushed her last bite with a sip of water before answering, "Submarines are the vessels like the one in Haiti, remember the Atlantis Submarine?"

The blond nodded, and she continued, "The Muggle army has also submarines as military vessels, to fight in wars, firing mostly torpedos at other ships, and god knows what else." A new nod, but a confused one.

"Remember Haiti and Pearl Harbor with its Missouri and Arizona ship? It's similar warfare but underwater. Torpedoes are these thick tubes with a pointy head that can pierce through the water at high speed until they find a target." Her hands formed in the air the shape of one torpedo. "Chances of surviving one are slim."

"Why experiment with such deadly weapons?" He was connecting the dots between nuclear power and the bombs she explained used against Japan. "Nuclear warhead, does that mean the front has a nuclear bomb inside them?"

"They test the weapons to be sure they are effective, to confirm their range. To know if they are as dangerous as they should be." She fished a strip of chicken from the dish.

"Let me get this straight, they test these lethal weapons to see if they are deadly. But, do they use fake bombs for that, right?" He ate with a little more force, feeling anger rise to the surface. For a second he compared it to Bellatrix's practice sessions of the Cruciatus Curse.

"No, otherwise the army doesn't know if they are effective in their explosion." Their plate had reduced by three-quarters now, and she set her fork down, unable to eat one more bite.

"But these nuclear thingies are dangerous; nevertheless, they test them underwater? What about sea life? Do they stop to ponder about if any fish get caught in the explosion?" Their earlier resolution about how violent both communities were in their own terms resurfaced in his head. "It sounds like dear aunty Bella, who loved to exercise her curses on Muggles and Muggle-borns to practice."

"Your comparison is on point." It did sound familiar.

"With the added argument that the environment suffers underneath, Muggles have no respect for animal life. Absolutely none, let us fire a bomb here, a torpedo there, see how much damage it causes and probably even applaud the success."

"I can't disagree." If he put it that way, Muggles did rise on the scale of dangerous species.

"Muggles aren't filthy. They are violent creatures, building weapons of mass destruction, testing their real potential with no regard to the environment, to show off how powerful they are." Furious, Draco crossed his arms across his chest. "I prefer those penis gourdes, at least you can size up the length of your dick without hurting another being."

The couple behind them coughed to hide their smirk.

"We can always suggest that the crew hold a tournament on the ship, see whose dick is the biggest." The man raised his beer glass at that, "Your husband is right, madam, men can be violent creatures. Luckily for humanity, the majority is composed of the calm, law-abiding citizen."

"Your tournament will only happen if the women are allowed to touch, make sure we see the real deal." The woman was quick to counteract, but Hermione couldn't make out if the blush was from her comment or from the prospect of pawing some male parts, with her husband's consent.

"We're not married." Hermione felt the need to dot some I's.

"Darling, from afar you look married, what am I saying? Not from afar, even from up close. Young love…" It was Hermione's turn to blush, Draco wished he could hex the woman on the spot. He had plans to change their status, and the last thing he needed was more meddlers.

"Lee, stop snooping. Let the young couple be." It takes one to recognise the vibe. "We should return to the Arcadia before it leaves us behind. I wonder if Perkins would sound the alarm."

Draco snorted, "You're no fan of Perkins either?"

"I hate how close he gets to me, I'm sure he swings to the other side. My wife Lee loves the ass-kissing though."

"Andrew, shut up."

Hermione chuckled, no doubt who wore the pants...

A.N.:

If you want to see how Bougna looks like, or the astonishing architectural view of the Tjibaou Cultural Centre, pop up on my Tumblr, I've added a few pictures. ruthy4vrsmoak-ed dot tumblr dot com