The phrase, 'The morning after', generally connotes a negative reaction.
The morning after a bachelor's party.
The morning after a highly too impulsive decision.
The morning after a night on the town.
And for Hermione Granger, the phrase, 'The morning after', had the very same effect.
The morning after she returned from Order headquarters was not one of her more pleasant experiences in recent memory.
After she and Draco had embraced in the night storm; he quickly cast a drying spell - insisting that she was immediately warm; and then, succumbing to exhaustion - Hermione fell asleep on her favorite sofa by the fireplace.
When she awoke the next morning; Hermione found herself in her comfortable bed in the east tower.
Some people exercise by playing Quidditch - others, apparently get a work out by carting people all over incalculable steps in an abandoned castle.
Once she was bathed and had dressed and headed down to the kitchen; Draco was waiting for her with his arms crossed over his chest.
There was a look of fury in his eyes.
Evidently, his gratitude that she was alive only went so far.
"Well?" he said.
"Well, what?" Hermione asked.
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
Hermione shrugged, "Absolutely nothing. I saved Lupin's life - what would you like me to say?"
As the shouting began, Hermione tried to block out much of what happened over the next twenty minutes.
Draco was pacing back and forth across the kitchen in an infuriating tirade about her "foolish decision" in leaving the castle. As he was counting off endless adjectives that were all synonyms with the word, "brainless", her mind wandered to the depths of the sea where a sunken ship rested like a hollowed tomb - encasing Ravenclaw's compass.
"...and after you cheated to sneak away..." Draco was saying.
"Cheated?" Hermione interrupted, "In what way did I cheat?"
"You used your Animagus," Draco said flatly.
"That is not cheating. Check every spell book there is. There is nothing that says anything about an Animagus being in violation to any proper - "
"A registered Animagus, Hermione. But, oh wait!" he shouted, as he waved his hands dramatically in the air, "No one in the Order is a registered Animagus, now are they?"
He scowled and set to work on some vegetables for breakfast.
Hermione sighed exasperatedly as she rolled her eyes, "And when did we lay the ground rules that we were having an official duel?" she snapped, "If I recall correctly, you used your Animagus form as well - and I don't remember you marching down to the Ministry of Magic to become a registered Animagus," she added as she sat down on one of the wobbly bar stools, "You're just bitter because I won."
"You did not win," Draco retorted, as he searched the cupboards for a frying pan.
"Oh really?" Hermione asked, with intrigue, as she folded her arms, "Let's see...since I got away from you and you were unable to detain me here at the castle, I daresay that I did win."
Draco scowled again, and then went into a another tirade regarding some rubbish about her 'responsibilities to finish the job she had initially started'.
"Look," Hermione said, as Draco loudly set a plate of steaming food down in front of her, "I'm sorry that you were worried. But I couldn't have left Lupin to die - I had to go," she added quietly, as she stirred her searing vegetables, "I would have done the same for you."
Draco's head shot up as he sat down on the stool next to her. He eyed her skeptically, "You would?" he asked, quietly.
Hermione's anger instantly melted into compassion, "Of course I would, Draco," she said sincerely, as she placed her hand on his forearm, "I would think that after everything we have been through that you would know that."
Draco looked her over for a moment, and then his eyes smiled brightly.
They ate in silence for quite some time, until Hermione subconsciously rubbed the spot on her cheek where the cut had been the previous night.
Today, it was a faint, pink line against her otherwise flawless skin.
"I healed it last night," Draco said, as he surreptitiously glanced at the latest newspaper Hermione had brought from Hanoock, "The pink should fade within a couple of days."
"Thanks," Hermione said, as she played with her potatoes.
He nodded, blushing slightly as he became strangely engaged in an article entitled, How to Properly Shear your Sheep.
Hermione smiled to herself, as she ate the remainder of her breakfast. Setting her fork down, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and turned to Draco, "I know where the last Horcrux is," she said, profoundly.
Draco's head turned in her direction so quickly that he had the slight appearance of a poltergeist, "What?" he asked - his eyes widening.
Hermione nodded her confirmation that he had heard her correctly, and then began reiterating everything that had happened the previous night. When she got to the part about Lupin's condition, she hesitated.
"What?" Draco asked, clearly engrossed in the story, "What was wrong with him? Do they know who did it?"
Hermione explained the symptoms as Draco's face wrinkled in disgust, and then she added, very quietly as she looked down at her hands, "Harry said that it was your father."
She waited for him to react, but Draco merely shoved himself off the stool, walked over to a small window in the rear of the kitchen, and stood with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes tightly.
Hermione slowly got up from her own rickety stool and stood beside him, "Hey," she said, gently, as she placed her hand on his shoulder, "You are not your father. You've chosen a different path - I'm sorry..." she trailed off.
But Draco shook his head, "Don't you see, Hermione?" he asked, looking down at her concerned face, "My father is a monster. He kills and tortures anyone without a second thought. What if...what if that same monster is somehow lurking in me?"
His ashen eyes were wide and fearful.
But Hermione grabbed both of his hands, and held them firmly within her own, "Look at me," she demanded.
When Draco reluctantly met her gaze, he saw something in her eyes that no one other than Snape had showed him before - compassion.
"Draco," Hermione began, "You can't let your past dictate what you will become. Look - we all have some form of darkness within us. In the world, there is no black and white. Everyone is a different shade of gray. Now, whether you're a lighter shade of gray, or a darker shade of gray - that's something you have to decide for yourself."
"Hermione...", Draco began.
"No, listen to me, Draco," Hermione interrupted, "Abraham Lincoln said, 'I don't know who my grandfather was..."
But Draco finished for her, "...I am much more concerned to know what his grandson will be."
Hermione looked surprised, "What? You're a Lincoln enthusiast?"
Draco smiled softly, as he grasped Hermione's hands even tighter, "He seemed like a pretty good guy."
Hermione returned the smile, "But don't you see? No matter what you've come from, what kind of history your family has, you are the author of your own future."
"And Draco," she said, as she released her left hand and moved to gently lay it on his cheek, "You've already made that first step. The fact that you're here right now in this moment talking to me is proof enough."
Draco's eyes locked with Hermione's.
When her hand touched the skin of his face; he shivered.
"So forget your father," she concluded, as she released her hold and stepped away.
Draco nodded, "It's just that...Lupin...well, I mean, despite everything - I always did like him."
Hermione smiled, "Well, he's going to be fine, so don't worry yourself over a crime you didn't commit."
Draco nodded, "Okay. So, what happened after you saved Lupin?"
Hermione returned to the wobbly stool and told Draco everything Harry had said to her the previous night - Lupin's theories, the so called "ghost ship", Voldemort resurrecting the ship to seek the compass, the possible implications of the compass showing the owner that which they most desire, and Harry's inability to help retrieve this Horcrux.
When she was finished, Draco sat and leaned back on the stool next to Hermione. He ran a hand through his white-blond hair, making it somewhat unruly, as he processed everything she had just said.
"It doesn't even sound real," Draco said, as he turned towards Hermione, "It sounds like something out of The Tales of Beetle the Bard."
"Beetle the what?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Never mind," Draco said with a slight smile, "Doesn't it just seem like some grand adventure from out of a fiction novel?"
"You were the one that said that Voldemort was into dramatics," Hermione shrugged, "And besides, I'm not sure there's much that can surprise me anymore."
"No," said Draco, fondly, "I doubt there is."
Hermione smiled, "Well, since the Polyjuice Potion is ready, I can get everything packed and be ready to leave before tonight," she said, as she stood from the stool.
"Wait, just a second," Draco said, as he too stood, and gently placed her back in her seat.
He bent his head and looked directly into her eyes and said, "You know that I'm coming with you, right?"
Hermione raised her brow, quizzically, "But after everything Snape said - "
"I know what Snape said," Draco interrupted, still locking his eyes with hers. His voice was calm, controlled - but it carried an aura of power. "I don't care. Something could go wrong - there could be an ambush...really there are about one hundred factors of different variables that could occur, and I'm not letting you go by yourself. We've got plenty of Polyjuice Potion - no one will know that it's me."
Hermione eyed him momentarily before she spoke.
"All right, Draco," she said, slowly - steadily, "If you want to come; I won't stop you." But then she got too close to Draco's face, and he backed away nervously.
Grabbing onto the front collar of his robes, Hermione pulled his head down so that they were a whispers' breath apart, "But if Snape starts in on a roaring tirade, you won't have my sympathy - and I'll be sure to tell him that I hexed you and did everything in my power to make you stay. You won't have an alibi on this one," she deadpanned.
Draco smirked, "I wouldn't dream of asking that of you."
"Good," Hermione said, as she released his robes, "I'm going to start packing some supplies that we'll need," she added as she walked purposefully to the archway, "Why don't you go down to the dungeon and get the Polyjuice Potion - I've labeled everything that we'll need."
Draco nodded and headed down to the dungeon.
Hermione spent the next several hours in her room, sorting through various items of the Weasley twins' brilliant - albeit frightening inventions, Gillyweed, possible texts that could be useful as sources, and the few robes and cloaks that she had to her name. She had gone through her book pile several times, weighing which texts she might truly need, until she finally had everything tightly packed and shrunk into a bag that would easily sling over her shoulder.
As soon as she was finished, she descended the spiral stairs down into the cool dungeon.
"Draco?" she called, as she peering her head around the corner.
The Polyjuice supplies had been emptied from the shelves, and Draco was no where to be found.
Frowning, Hermione headed back up the spiral stairs, and staring climbing the stairs to the west wing of the castle.
Muron Castle was like a giant mirror bent in on itself. If an imaginary line was drawn straight through the entryway and into the far hall, the east and west sides of the castle reflected perfectly on each other.
And even though the west wing of the castle was virtuously a cloned copy of the wing that led to her bedroom, she felt odd as she ascended the final step.
To her recollection, Hermione had only been in the west wing twice. Once when she first arrived at Muron Castle, and once when she was bound and determined to find the fluffy pink owl that she was certain Draco slept with.
But as she walked through the darkened hallway, lit only by every other torch on the side walls, she checked herself in mid-stride.
Why was I never able to find his quarters?
Curiosity always getting the better of her, Hermione poked her head through every doorway that she passed, searching for Draco.
When she finally same to a dead end at the end of the hallway, she looked around in defeat.
Where the hell is he?
"Draco?" she hollered, down the long corridor.
The sound reverberated off the stone walls and created an echo that passed again and again out towards the main atrium.
"Draco," she called again, "I know you're up here somewhere, and if you can hear me - you better show yourself this instant, or I'm leaving without you!"
Silence.
"Fine," Hermione mumbled as she turned to head back down the dark hallway.
As she passed the nearest torch, there was a slight movement in her peripheral vision. Startled, she turned her head sharply to the right. The only thing that was in front of her, however, was a muggle portrait in the three quarter length view. The sitter was male, elderly, and sat with his arm akimbo - his riding gloves hanging from his left hand. Hermione recognized from her Muggle Studies class when they briefly discussed the history of art that male sitters displayed in this manner were meant to show dominance, power, and in the seventeenth - century, male superiority.
As Hermione stood closer to the panel, she squinted in the dim light to observe the sitter's eyes. For such an old painting, they were surprisingly alive. And then, without warning, they blinked at her.
Tripping over her robes, Hermione stumbled backwards and screamed loudly as she simultaneously drew her wand. Focusing on the eyes again, she noted that this time around, they appeared glazed over, worn, and cracked - much like the rest of the painting.
Maybe I've finally gone mad.
Hermione rubbed her eyes, and looked again at the painting. The same lifeless eyes that were long dead stared back at her. Glancing over her shoulder, she continued quickly down the hallway.
As she passed the second torch, the wall to her right suddenly shifted and sounded as though it was caving in under it's own weight.
Hermione backed against the opposite wall in alarm - her wand pointing in the direction of the disturbance.
And then, Draco appeared out of nowhere from behind a hidden doorway that seemed to instantly materialize. He had a smile on his face and was looking rather pleased with himself.
"You're awfully jumpy, Hermione," he said, as he threw a pack over his shoulders.
Hermione glared at his smiling face, "That was you? In the painting? What the hell were you trying to pull? You scared me to death!"
Draco chuckled softly as he adjusted his pack, "Sorry. It's just that I heard you calling my name, so I checked out of the peep hole, and you just happened to see me - I wasn't intentionally trying to frighten you - although it was a pretty good laugh."
Hermione scowled, and crossed her arms over her chest, "So, would you like to explain about the secret quarters, and why you made such a big deal about them?"
Draco shrugged, as he opened the hidden door for her to pass through, "You were the one that made the big deal. I just enjoyed seeing you fuss over it," he added with a smile.
Hermione glared and walked through the secret passageway. The corridor was low and narrow, and behind her, Draco had to bend slightly to avoid hitting his head on the rounded archway that was the ceiling. As she continued through the darkness, she came to another door that opened into a spacious room that had light filtering through the narrow stained glass windows. The floor was adorned with massive bear-skinned rugs and a moderately sized fireplace was just smoking itself out.
Hermione whirled around and faced Draco, "Master bedroom?" she questioned, with a smug look on her face.
Draco chuckled, "Kind of. Snape wanted me as hidden as possible right after Dumbledore's death. The muggles don't even know about this passageway in here."
Hermione nodded as she looked up at the high vaulted ceiling that created a massive barrel vault above. The ribs supporting each archway were clearly visible.
"But, you know," Draco was saying as he followed Hermione around the room like an obedient dog, "This really is the nicer room...you can move your stuff in here...I really would be fine in the east wing..."
"Draco," Hermione interrupted, "No. I was just curious. Besides, Snape's right - It's good for you to be as hidden as possible."
"I don't need to be protected," Draco said flatly.
Hermione shrugged, "Neither do I," she replied as she returned to the narrow corridor that let it's way back out to the west wing, "But it's like Snape said - you have two sides that are hunting you. It's best to play it safe."
Draco rolled his eyes and followed her through the passageway.
"Do you have the Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione called over her shoulder, as she emerged into the west hallway.
"Right here," Draco said, shaking the pack that was hanging from his shoulder.
Hermione nodded, as she continued to the main atrium of the castle, and quickly summoned her own pack.
"What all did you pack?" Draco asked, as Hermione slug the strap over her shoulder.
"A little of everything," she replied, "Who knows how long we'll be gone. We could be back by late tonight, or it could take a week - it's best to be prepared. I also packed some dried fruit from the kitchen."
Draco made a disgusted face and stuck out his tongue.
Hermione eyed him narrowly, "What are you - five?" she questioned at his childish gesture, "You can go hungry, then - more food for me."
Draco scowled as he followed her to the entrance with the massive doors.
"Hand me the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione said, with authority.
Draco obeyed and fumbled through his pack for a moment before extricating two small viles. He glanced momentarily at the labels, and then handed Hermione the one in his left hand.
Hermione uncorked the vile with a slight, "pop!", and then downed the grotesque looking contents. She smacked her lips together loudly after she swallowed.
She could feel her body beginning to change as she watched Draco finish the contents of his own vile - he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.
And suddenly, Hermione was slightly shrinking. Her skin color was turning a dark olive color, and her normally chestnut hair was now as black as Harry's. Her slender figure was thickening rapidly. Hard muscles took the place of her feminine physique. She biceps tightened reflexively.
As she looked at Draco, she saw that he was shrinking dramatically. His white blond hair was becoming just as raven as her own, and his forearms were growing bigger than his entire upper arm.
"What am I, Pop-Eye?" Draco, asked, as his olive calloused fingers touched his massive forearms.
Hermione shrugged, "You're a blacksmith. Evidently, they have strong forearms. But look at us - we must be brother and sister. Our hair and skin are the same color, and we're both roughly the same height," she said as she stared at Draco's eyes, "What color are my eyes?" she asked.
Draco looked at Hermione closely, "Green," he said.
Hermione nodded, "Yours too."
"So, what's the game plan?" Draco asked, as he continued to glance at his forearms.
Hermione was fingering her black, shiny hair before she looked up, "First we change into muggle clothes," she said as she walked through the archway that led to the kitchen, "Once we reach the apparation point," she hollered, "We'll apparate to Le Havre. I stopped there briefly before I went to Paris with my parents. It's near the coast. That's where I first heard the story about the ghost ship, "she added.
There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again. "I'm sure there are muggles there that have speculated over exactly where it sank the second time."
"You decent?" she asked, hollering from the archway.
"Always," Draco replied with a smirk.
When Hermione returned, she was wearing dark jeans and a thick green, wool sweater. The green of the sweater made her eyes stand out even more noticeably.
She adjusted her pack, and stuffed her cloak into the top zipper before noticing Draco. He had changed into a black turtleneck that seemed to be busting at the seams around the arms, as well as a pair of blue jeans.
"Ready?" she asked, as she stood and brandished her wand.
"Absolutely. I've been cooped up in the castle for too long. Shall we?"
Hermione nodded.
And they were off.
The wind seemed extremely fierce as they made their way to the apparation border by the large black boulder.
It could be worse, though. It's usually raining.
This is probably what the townsfolk here call a "good day".
As soon as Hermione and Draco passed the boulder, Hermione grabbed Draco's massive forearm tightly.
"Hang tight."
Draco smiled as he felt the darkness and compression surround him.
When he opened his eyes again, he was momentarily startled.
They were standing near a waterway that led further inland. The sun was hanging low in the sky, but as Draco turned to his right, he saw a bridge bowing over the waterway. Large commercial buildings adorned either side of the river, and Draco was relatively surprised that with such structures around them; there were surprisingly few people in the area.
Hermione tugged softly on his sleeve as she turned and headed away from the buildings, "Come on, I've brought us too far inland. We need to get to the coast."
"How far are we?" Draco asked, as he shifted his pack.
"Not far."
They walked in silence for several minutes. After a moment, they passed a few teenagers who were standing in a circular formation around a bench - laughing and shouting in French. As they continued on their way, Draco could sense that they were getting closer to the coast. The wind started rustling his onyx hair, and when Hermione turned a corner down a narrow alleyway to their right, Draco could smell the salt water.
The alley was dark and narrow. Hermione was moving around an iron ladder when she noticed two figures talking softly to one another just ahead. As she made to approach them, Draco grabbed her roughly from behind.
"What?" Hermione demanded, as she was spun around.
"Two guys in a dark alleyway?" Draco asked, his green eyes startled, "What, are you thick?"
Hermione somehow managed to free herself from Draco's massive grip, "They're muggles," she retorted in a hissing whisper, "Now come on! Do you want to find that ship or not?"
Draco relented as Hermione made her way over to the figures and quickly came around her so that the men were sure to see him as well.
"Excusez-moi, mais..." Hermione began.
"No French," the larger of the two men interrupted, "From Spain. Little English."
Hermione cleared her throat and tried again, "¿Ustedes hablan Español?"
The other man nodded as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, "Sí."
The large man spoke before Hermione could continue, "Somos de España. Por trabajo, viajamos a France dos veces cada mes por barco."
We're from Spain. We travel to France twice a month by ship for work.
Hermione nodded, "Esta bien."
Draco eyes widened behind her, "How in the world to you know Spanish?" he whispered.
Hermione swung her pack around so that it looked as though she were merely adjusting it's weight; her objective, however, was to hit Draco cleanly across the chest - which she successfully accomplished.
"Ouch!" he complained in a muffled tone.
But Hermione ignored him, "Estamos buscando por un barco."
We are looking for a ship.
"¿Un barco? The larger man laughed roughly, "Hay muchos barcos aqui, senorita."
There are many ships here.
Hermione nodded as she struggled with the next translation, "Sí, pero, este barco es..."
Yes, but this ship is...
"Embrujado."
Haunted.
The two men looked at one another in alarm and then turned their attention back to Hermione.
"Ahh...so you know of the ghost ship," the man holding the cigarette said in a thick Spanish accent as he stepped forward.
Hermione tried to suppress her excitement by merely nodding, "Well, we've heard rumors..."
"Sí, they are true," he said, taking a quick puff from his cigarette before flicking it into a puddle of stagnant water.
He walked until he was right in front of Hermione and looked down at her. She back away slightly, bumping into Draco's broad chest. Involuntarily, she gripped her wand in her jean pocket.
The man had a thin black mustache that covered the expanse of his upper lip, and when he spoke, his crooked teeth were stained yellow.
"The ship," he began with his thick accent, "is embrujado - haunted, you said. No one goes there. Peligroso - what is the word? Oh sí, dangerous. The water glows green at night. And all of the sea workers know the ship is under the surface...haunted by spirits...The spirits are...enojados - angry."
Draco came around Hermione and stood in front of the man, "Can you tell us where it is?"
The man regarded Draco warily for a moment, "And who are you?"
"We're reporters from Britain. We're doing a documentary on haunted places - homes, buildings, ships - you name it. We heard about the ship here so we've come to do some preliminary research."
The man with the mustache looked at Draco as if he hadn't completely understood everything he said. But after a moment, he nodded, and said, "We can tell you where it is, but we will not go. Tenemos miedo..."
We've afraid.
Hermione nodded, "That's fine. Thank you."
The man smirked and then turned back to his comrade. They began speaking to one another in rapid Spanish with hushed whispers as Draco turned to Hermione, "Spirits? Don't you think the Dark Lord would use something a little more concrete?" he asked, quietly.
Hermione shook her head, "I don't know. Unless it's something that Voldemort bewitched for anyone who tried to gain access to the ship. The prospect of ghosts could be enough to ward away any curious muggles...but maybe they're something like the Inferi. With Voldemort, you never really know what kind of madness you're dealing with - we should be cautious."
Draco nodded as the men turned towards them, "Vamos."
Let's go.
Hermione and Draco followed the two Spaniards along the rocky coast for about a hour. All forms of civilization seemed to have been left behind. Gone were the houses, buildings, and busy street noises. For awhile, sounds of birds and other wildlife chattered with them along the terrain, but as soon as the sun set, the only sound that could be heard were the ocean waves rolling onto the shore.
"So," Draco said, interrupting the silence as they followed the two men, "How is it that you know Spanish, exactly?"
Hermione smiled into the darkness, "Before my father starting his practice as a dentist, he traveled around with the Peace Corp to third world countries helping kids with dental problems. He was in Mexico for about two years before he met my mum. When I was growing up, he would teach me new words in Spanish - until eventually we could have conversations together. I tried to keep up with it, but once I started going to Hogwarts - I became a little sidetracked."
"There's an understatement," Draco said, as he sidestepped around a large rock.
Only a few moments later, the two Spaniards stopped in front of them, and the man with the mustache turned to Hermione, "Mira - Look. Just around that rock ledge up ahead - that is where you will find the ghost ship, senorita."
Hermione's eyes tried to adjust to dark as she searched the landscape that was several meters ahead of her. A dense fog was rolling over what Hermione assumed to be a rock peninsula that was jutting out into the ocean.
She nodded, "Gracias por todo."
The man nodded and then hurried away with his comrade as they returned the way they had just come. Just before they were out of earshot, Hermione could have sworn she heard the larger man say, "Aye...tan loco..."
Crazy.
Hermione smiled, despite herself, "Crazy?" she said softly, so that Draco couldn't even hear, "You have no idea."
And then she turned and found Draco gazing cautiously up the shore.
"Do you think it's safe to use light now?" he asked, as he drew his wand.
Hermione turned around to search for the two Spaniards.
With the thick fog, they could have been twenty meters up the coast, or one hundred meters. She couldn't see a thing.
"I think we're okay," Hermione replied as she too, drew her wand. "From what those men said, there aren't a lot of people that come around here - and besides, our wands would like flashlights from a distance to any muggles."
"A flash - what?"
"Never mind."
Draco lighted his wand, and Hermione followed suit.
The light from their wands made it even more difficult to see. The light shone directly onto the dense fog, but went no further.
"Nox!" Hermione said, and it was dark once again.
She looked to her left and found Draco's olive skinned face, "Looks like we'll just have to be careful."
Draco nodded and extinguished his wand as he started up a narrow pathway that led up to the peninsula.
"Blimey, this fog is thick," he muttered, as he caught his foot on a rock.
Hermione was silent for a moment as she followed Draco along, "This is weird," she said, pausing to take in a panoramic view of her surroundings, "I'm no meteorologist, but I've never heard of fog like this in France."
Draco stopped walking just ahead of her, "Maybe it's just some freak thing."
Hermione shook her head as she walked over to where he was standing, "I don't think so. It just feels..." she trailed off.
"Feels what?"
"Dark."
Draco raised his dark eyebrows as he gently grabbed Hermione's upper arm, "Dark how?"
"I don't know...it's difficult to explain. Every time I've been in close contact with a Hoxcrux, I get this feeling...I can't describe it..."
She looked up and sought Draco's eyes that were now an unfamiliar green.
"The Horcrux is here - I know it."
Draco nodded, and then squeezed her hand reassuringly. Slowly, he continued out towards the point, pulling Hermione along right behind him.
The fog made it nearly impossible to see anything, but as Draco and Hermione reached the point of the peninsula, they both saw exactly what the Spaniards were talking about.
Turning to their right and looking around the rock wall was a deep cove. Great rocks jutted upward creating a perfect semi circle within it's expanse.
And the water, to Hermione's surprise, was glowing a brilliant green.
Still holding Draco's hand, she walked to the edge of the point where the water met rock, and gazed into the depths below.
The light that was emanating from beneath the surface made it appear as though there were several scuba divers beneath the waves - all shinning flashlights around brightly. The reflection of the light from the surface of the water hit Hermione's face - making everything in the cove take on an eerie green tint.
"Okay," said Draco, nervously, breaking the silence, "Now what?"
Hermione was still staring into the water, but finally she turned to him, "We raise the ship."
"Accio?" Draco, asked, skeptically.
Hermione nodded, "That's what Lupin thinks Voldemort did. But if it doesn't work, I brought some gillyweed."
Draco shifted as he rubbed his eyebrow with his hand, "I think I like the first alternative better."
"Agreed."
Hermione stepped back from the edge of the rock and looked at Draco, "Ready?" she asked.
"Yeah. On three?"
"On three."
Draco released Hermione's hand and pointed his wand in the direction of the ship.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
"Accio!" Hermione and Draco shouted loudly in unison.
Silence.
Nothing.
Draco turned to Hermione, "Umm...should we try again?"
Hermione nodded.
But it didn't work the second time.
Or the third.
Or the fourth.
"Dammit!" Hermione cursed, as she kicked a nearby rock into the water.
When the rock hit the water, it rippled for some time, and then - without warning, there was a trembling beneath the surface.
It felt like a small earthquake.
"What was that?" Draco asked, peering into the water.
"No idea," Hermione replied, as she, too, gazed into the sea.
Slowly, she removed her pack from her shoulder and sat it down on a nearby ledge. She opened the zipper and began searching through it's tightly packed contents. A moment later she surfaced with two jars - one in each hand. Each jar contained what appeared to be slimy, grayish-green rat tails.
"Gillyweed?" Draco asked, though already knowing the answer.
Hermione nodded, "Yes. This dosage should be enough to last us both for an hour."
She bent over and began removing her shoes and then socks. Then, gingerly, she reached her leg out over the surface of the water and touched the sea with her big toe.
"It's cold," she reported, retracting her leg, and moving to remove her sweatshirt.
Draco was still looking at the substance in the glass jar he was holding. When he saw that Hermione was nearly ready to dive in, he quickly scrambled to remove his socks and shoes.
"How much longer will our Polyjuice Potion last?" Draco asked, as he pulled the turtleneck over his head, revealing a huge barrel chest.
Hermione was standing in a white, athletic tank top with her arms wrapped tightly around her body. "Probably about as long as we will have with the Gillyweed."
She reached down and picked up her glass jar; unscrewed the lid, and then pulled out the rubbery contents.
"Ready?"
Draco was fiddling with the lid of his jar, but only seconds later he was standing next to Hermione, holding the Gillyweed in his left hand.
He raised the magical plant to his lips and then turned his head toward Hermione, "Let's do this."
A second later he was chewing on the most rubbery, dreadful thing he could have ever imagined.
"Here," Hermione said in a nasal voice, while pinching her nose, "If you plug your nose while you swallow, the taste isn't nearly as bad."
Draco mimicked her actions, and mere seconds later, he felt a sharp pain on either side of his neck. His hands immediately shot to his head, and when he looked at Hermione, he saw that she was doing the same thing.
"Harry said it was...painful...at first," she gasped as the air left her lungs and gills formed on the sides of her neck.
"Can't...breathe..." Draco said, as he clutched at his throat.
Hermione stumbled over to him, gave him one hard shove, and a moment later, he was in the green water.
The freezing water felt like small daggers all over him. His body reacted by tightly flexing as he struggled for breath under the surface.
As Draco's eyes struggled to adjust to the blinding green light surrounding him, he had two startling revelations.
First, that he could breath underwater.
And second, Hermione had shoved him into the dangerous cove.
A moment later, he heard the percussion of someone entering the water next to him.
Hermione floated a meter away from him, still clutching her neck.
"You shoved me!" Draco said - his voice sounding strange in this new underwater environment.
Hermione blinked rapidly for several seconds before responding, "Well, you can't breathe out of the water with gills. And you said you couldn't breathe..." she trailed off. "Merlin..." she chattered, "the water's freezing."
Hermione rubbed her arms vigorously as she took in her surroundings. A moment later, she clutched her wand tightly. It was much more difficult to grip with her newly formed webbed hands.
As she looked down, she saw a massive ship lying on the ocean floor - sixty or so meters beneath them.
"Bloody hell," Draco said, quietly, causing a small amount of bubbles to exit his gills and float steadily towards the surface.
The ship was bent completely on it's side. All of the windows along the hull had long been broken - the atmospheric pressure of the water at sixty meters down and the presence of time both contributing their demise. A strong beam of light was coming from each of the spaces where the windows should have been. The huge mast was cracked at it's center and resided several meters away from where it was originally attached.
Hermione was still hovering and adjusting to her new appendages when she turned to Draco, "You ready?"
He nodded his head, grabbed her webbed hand and then began kicking downward.
As they slowly descended, Hermione felt the pressure building in her ears. Out of habit, she went to light her wand - but immediately realized the pointlessness of the gesture. Despite it being late evening, the greenish glow that emanated from the ship lit up the entire expanse of the cove. Oddly, there was no marine wildlife any where that she could see.
They were alone.
As they reached the side of the ship's hull, Draco turned to Hermione, "Did Lupin mention where in the ship the compass was supposed to be?" he asked -his voice slightly obscured by the water.
Hermione squinted in concentration, "Not that I can recall. He definitely said that it was inside the ship, though - that's where we should start."
A small stream of bubbles left Hermione's gills as she spoke.
Draco nodded and placed his webbed hand on the rotting wood next to the opening of the window, "I'll go in first," he said, as he peered through the empty space. "Wait for my signal."
"Okay."
And then Draco was squeezing through the small window opening. There was barely enough space to fit his huge barrel chest.
Hermione waited anxiously for several moments outside the ship - glancing warily in every direction for any hint of movement or danger.
Finally, Draco's voice carried through the window, "Okay, Hermione. All clear."
Hermione put her palms on the base of the window and she pulled her body through the opening.
The room that she had just entered appeared to be the original sleeping quarters of the sailors. Several decayed beds lay toppled on the far wall - some still even with their sheets attached. The sight of the empty beds made a chill run down Hermione's spine.
The men that died - this was where they slept.
"Well, we might as well start in this room. We only have an hour. I'll take the left side - you take the right," said Hermione as she swam to the end of the large room.
As Hermione searched under the overturned decaying chairs and various knick-nacks, she bumped her head on a ledge on the interior hull. Immediately debris staring falling all around her. She cried out and covered the back of her head as a small section of the ship caved in.
The moment he heard Hermione scream, Draco swam across the the length of the room searching for her. The movement of the debris had churned the sand and sediment laying on the floor of the ship, and Draco's vision was obscured, as sand and mud floated all around him.
"Hermione! Hermione! Answer me!" he hollered as he groped helplessly through the water as his hands sought for Hermione.
Finally, she emerged as the swirling sand began to recede.
Coughing, she looking up at Draco as he grabbed her and began to immediately search for injuries.
"I'm fine! Just bumped my head," she coughed and then caught Draco's skeptical stare. "It scared me more than anything," she relented, "I just lost all sense of direction and couldn't figure out where I was."
"You're sure?" Draco asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine," Hermione said as she looked around the expanse of the room, "Come on. We don't have much time."
Releasing her slowly, Draco returned to his task.
The pair searched the entire expanse of the room - including where Hermione had caused the small cave in.
There was still no sign of the compass.
"It's not in here," Draco finally relented, as he emerged from behind an ancient looking dresser, "We better move on or we're going to run out of time."
Hermione nodded and swam over to a opening that led to a long, narrow hallway. She looked both left and right before she turned back to Draco - who was silently waiting behind her.
"We need to split up. There's too much ground to cover. If we're going to be meticulous - the only way we can do it is to split up."
Draco seemed slightly hesitant, but reluctantly nodded his head.
"I'll go this way," Hermione motioned left with her head, "I think it leads up to the deck; you go back down the hallway and search through the rest of the rooms."
"Okay. Be careful."
Hermione nodded, and then she was gone.
Draco turned right and swam to the next room he came to. He searched through several rooms with no luck until he came to a door had a massive dent that jutted outward towards him. When Draco went to push the door inward; it didn't budge.
Dammit. Come on.
He propped himself fully against the door and the shoved with all of his might.
One shove.
Two shoves.
Three shoves.
Finally it caved in - creating a muffled "clang".
His vision momentarily obscured by the debris, sand, and other ocean waste, Draco waited until the sand settled before the entered the room.
The room before him was massive. The other utility rooms he had searched in were easily half this size. And while the bunker they were in earlier had several beds scattered haphazardly around it's entirety, this room had only one bed.
The captain's headquarters.
Like the other rooms, time and the ocean pressure had taken a toll on everything within the chamber. Sand lay over the wooden floor - which was actually the side wall of the ship since the vessel was completely turned on it's side. The solitary bed lay crunched and destroyed in a massive heap in the far corner of the room. As Draco swam around a large overturned cabinet, he nearly dropped his wand as he checked himself in mid-stroke.
Before him, laying on the floor, was the body of a stained skeleton.
His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he slowly calmed himself.
It's just a skeleton.
It can't hurt you.
Draco tightened the grip on his wand as he studied the specimen before him. Whether by some sick joke, or a rare chance of coincidence, the skeleton was still wearing a captain's hat. As Draco peered at the hat and his gaze drifted momentarily downward, his eyes widened in alarm.
Around the skeleton's neck, sitting like a proud broach or pendant, was an ancient looking compass.
Draco sucked in a massive amount of water as he yelled as loud as his voice could carry underwater, "Hermione! I found it! Come quick! It's here!"
Within seconds, Hermione was swimming through the entryway.
"Where is it?" she panted.
Draco turned to tell her but stopped immediately, "Hermione! They Polyjuice Potion!" he said as he took in her appearance, "It's gone! You're back to normal!"
Hermione looked down at her now paler skin, saw her chestnut hear floating around her head wildly and then looked directly at Draco.
"You too! But you're hair's still black!"
Draco momentarily looked himself over and then remembered himself, "Come on! We have to hurry! That means that we don't have much time left with the Gillyweed! Come look!"
Hermione swam quickly over to Draco, gasped slightly when she saw the skeleton, but then she, too, noticed the compass on it's neck.
Hermione bent closer, taking in it's ornate detail, symmetry, and fine craftsmanship. She looked up just as Draco's hand extended to pull it off the skeleton.
"No!" Hermione screamed, as she grabbed Draco's arm.
"What!?" he demanded, slightly alarmed by her scream.
"You can't just grab it. It's too easy...it has to be cursed...or booby trapped or something. Voldemort wouldn't make it this easy."
"Well," said Draco, slightly annoyed, "Then what do you suggest we do?"
Hermione looked pensive as she chewed on her lower lip.
"Accio compass!" she cried.
Nothing happened.
"Hmm...didn't think so - but it was worth a shot," she said, as she scrutinized the skeleton.
Over the next minute, Hermione tried summoning the skeleton itself, the hat...anything that she could think of - but to no avail.
"I just don't know!" she cried, "And we only have minutes left with the Gillyweed!"
Draco looked her over momentarily, "That's why we improvise," he said as he stretched his hand forward again.
"No!" Hermione screamed, again - pulling his hand back.
"Hermione! What else can we do? This is our only chance!" he hollered. The intensity in his ashen eyes was unlike anything Hermione had seen in them before.
And before she could say anything, Draco reached forward and grabbed the compass.
A/N: My first cliffhanger ending! Please review!!!!!