The moment that Draco's hand touched the compass; two things happened at once.
First, a blood curdling scream came from Draco with such force and intensity that the fact that they were underwater became irrelevant - as far as Hermione was concerned, the whole of France could have heard it.
Second, the skeleton's right hand shot up and latched itself around Draco's throat - abruptly cutting off the screaming, and more importantly - Draco's windpipe.
Hermione immediately went into action.
She began firing off stunning spells and jinxes at the skeleton as quickly as she was capable. But no matter how forceful the spell; the creature would not release it's hold.
"Dammit, let go of him!" she screamed, as she fired off a powerful stunner directly at the skeleton's face.
If anything, the grip became even tighter - Draco let out a horrid chocking sound as his lips began turning a dreadful shade of blue.
Think!
Think!
Think!
What can I do??
And suddenly, the answer hit her as abruptly as if she had just had the wind knocked out of her.
Wandless magic.
While Voldemort would expect any witch or wizard to attempt to fight off the skeleton with their wands; in his arrogance, he would have never considered the slight - but distinct properties of wandless magic that differentiated from "commonplace magic."
Hermione quickly pocked her wand, extended her right arm forward and shouted with all the force in her body, "Reducto!"
A stream of red erupted from Hermione's palm and hit the skeleton square in the ribcage - throwing it violently back as it released it's hold on Draco. Simultaneously, the compass was jarred free of the skeleton's neck.
Draco was clutching his neck with a painful expression on his face, "The Gillyweed..." he trailed off.
Hermione felt it too - the gills on her neck were shrinking at a rapid pace.
"Head for the surface!" she ordered him, "I'll grab the compass!"
Draco seemed slightly reluctant, but the urgency for air pushed him through the entry door.
And he was gone.
Hermione turned on the spot to grab the compass. The current of the water had caused it to drift slightly and it was now hiding behind the leg of an old cabinet. Hermione snatched the chain it was connected to and pulled upwards.
She began to turn and kick away, but the compass chain pulled her back.
The chain was caught under a floorboard and would not budge.
Come on!
Hermione pleaded silently to herself as she willed the compass to break free from it's hold under the wooden floorboard. And suddenly, she felt her lungs begin to burn for air.
Her gills were gone.
And she was still sixty meters from the surface.
Hermione gripped the chain with both her hands, anchored her feet to the floor, and tugged with all of the strength in her body.
A sudden crack sounded beneath her as the floorboard finally gave way, and she yanked the compass up forcefully. The momentum with which she had been pulling caused her to stumble back and float to the opposite side of the room. The underwater environment cushioned Hermione's fall, but as she turned to make for the entry door, she felt a tight grip around her wrist - and despite being underwater, whatever had a hold on her; it was burning her flesh.
Hermione cried out - letting the last of her oxygen escape through her lips as she turned to see the stained skeleton clinging to her arm.
Gripping the compass tightly with the wrist that was being burned, Hermione stretched her right arm towards the skeleton and thought of the jinx in her mind.
Reducto!
The same red jet of light soared from Hermione's hand and knocked the skeleton back to the other side of the room.
Lungs burning for air, Hermione frantically began swimming to the entryway. Faintly, she could hear the skeleton shuffling from beneath the rubble and preparing for a second attack. Crawling through the opening, Hermione struggled down the hallway, and finally managed to find the room that she and Draco had originally entered through.
Her lungs felt as though they were on fire. And as she scrambled to the narrow window opening that led to the exterior of the ship, the panic began to take over.
A loud clash sounded behind her - whatever curse had animated the skeleton would not let him give up so easily.
I'm going to die.
I'm going to die.
I'm going to die.
The pressure on Hermione's lungs was too great, and she knew that she would soon succumb. As she pulled herself through the window with her last ounce of strength, she felt the water enter her mouth. Roughly, it assaulted her insides, forcing it's way down her throat, and when she gasped, the salty sea finally triumphed, and vengefully penetrated her lungs.
Hermione's eyes opened widely with fright.
This was the end.
She knew it.
Dying was just as terrifying as she imagined it to be.
And Hermione was alone.
Completely and utterly alone.
Clutching the compass tightly in her left hand, her vision began to black out.
Surprisingly, her last thoughts before she lost consciousness were not of Harry - nor Ron.
But she remembered Draco's touch on her hand.
The intense, indescribable look in his ashen eyes.
His embrace.
And then, she remembered no more.
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After Draco had broken through the surface, he gasped for breath for several prolonged moments and began searching rapidly around him for any sign of Hermione.
The fog within the cove had become so dense that Draco couldn't see an arm's length in front of him. Twice he bumped into the shore as the fog disoriented any since of direction.
Splashing back to where he thought he had originally surfaced, he cried out, "Hermione!! Hermione! Can you hear me? Where are you?"
With the thick fog, it was impossible for him to tell whether Hermione had already surfaced, or if she was still somehow underwater.
Shivering, Draco took a deep breath and submerged himself beneath the surface.
Without the Gillyweed, his eyes burned in the salty water as he searched frantically for Hermione. The green glow from the beneath the surface shone brilliantly, and it only took him five seconds before he saw Hermione's limp form floating near the hull of the ship.
Swimming towards the surface to get one large breath before he dived; Draco's palm stung annoyingly from the salt water where the compass had burned him.
Breaking through to the fog, Draco coughed and gasped for air as he steadied himself - taking deep breaths to fill up the capacity of his lungs. With one final breath, he broke through the water and kicked furiously towards Hermione's lifeless form.
The water pressure seemed intensified by nearly one hundred times without the Gillyweed. Pausing briefly, Draco plugged his nose and blew out hard - equalizing the pressure as he descended. Kicking violently, he forced himself down until his arms grabbed Hermione firmly around her midsection. He turned on the spot, and began kicking with all the strength his legs could muster as he headed for the surface.
A muffled explosion sounded behind him, and when Draco turned he saw the cursed skeleton - emerging from a blasted hole in the ship's hull.
It was still after them.
The surface seemed to be farther away with every kick. Draco's muscles spasmed in protest as he pulled upward frantically with the added weight of Hermione. He could hear the inhuman grunts from the skeleton below him as he continued to ascend as quickly as his body would allow.
After a few seconds that seemed like eternity, Draco finally broke the surface of the water - gasping and chocking for air. His thankful lungs took in heaving breaths of gratitude as he swam blindly through the fog - searching for the rocky ridge that was the shoreline.
Swimming backwards and pulling Hermione along next to his chest, he was alarmed that when he broke the surface and had gasped for air, that she did not.
From what Draco could see, her face was whiter and paler than it had ever been - her lips, a deep shade of blue.
"Hermione?" he begged, slightly shaking her as he pulled her to where he thought the ridge awaited them.
"Hermione! Can you hear me?"
But her blue lips did not move.
And suddenly, there was a great tug on his leg and his head was pulled momentarily under the surface.
Kicking and struggling with Hermione in his grip, Draco resurfaced as the burning arm of the skeleton continued to attempt to pull them both under.
"Get off!" screamed Draco, as he kicked wildly.
The skeleton's burning grip did not loosen, but with one lucky kick to the jaw, Draco sent him sprawling away.
Free of the creature, Draco swam with all his strength.
Finally, he bumped in the the rocky ridge.
Keeping one hand on the strap of Hermione's tank top so that he did not lose her beneath the surface, he hauled himself out of the water, and then pulled Hermione's limp body up after him.
Gently, he laid her down on the uneven surface.
A violent splashing nearby caused Draco to look up in alarm. The skeleton was thrashing wildly as it swam over to the ledge. Draco drew his wand - in what he knew was a fruitless attempt to ward off the creature - but there was no need. As soon as the skeleton tried to haul itself out of the sea, it let out a barbaric scream and reluctantly descended beneath the surface.
Startled, Draco watched the ripples where the creature had submerged; but it did not return.
Pocketing his wand, Draco bent his head down and turned it sideways as he pressed his ear to Hermione's lips; listening for a breath.
After several seconds of nothing, Draco went into action. Although he was a pureblood, Draco's mother had taught him the muggle emergency procedure of CPR. And in this terrifying moment - he had never been more thankful.
Lacing his fingers together tightly, he winced as his burned palm rubbed against the back of his other hand. Finding the spot where Hermione's ribcage met, he began forcefully pushing down in intervals of five. Then, tipping her head back slightly and plugging her nose, Draco placed his lips over hers, and breathed deeply.
He repeated the process several times - pushing down hard on her chest, and breathing into her mouth.
Her body remained still.
"Come on, Hermione!"
"Please!" he yelled, as he placed his mouth over hers - forcing air into her lungs.
"Hermione, don't even think about it!"
He pounded again hard on her chest.
"I need you! Please!"
"Don't you dare leave me!"
Tears flowed freely down Draco's cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably.
And suddenly - wonderfully, Hermione's head jerked violently to the side, and she began retching up the water that was caught in her lungs.
"Hermione?" Draco cried, as he helped turn her onto her side.
She coughed and gagged for a good thirty seconds - her chest heaving in massive amounts of oxygen.
And slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
"Hermione?" Draco asked, gently, as he placed his hand behind her head to cushion it.
Her sorrel eyes locked with Draco's.
Her trembling lips were trying to speak.
"What?" Draco asked quietly, as he bent his head down so he could hear her.
"I..." Hermione began in a faint, raspy voice.
Her whole body was trembling violently - still freezing from the cold water.
"I..." she started again.
Draco immediately cast a drying spell on her, and then leaned forward to better hear.
"...I always knew you wanted to kiss me..."
Draco's head instantly shot up as he made eye contact with Hermione.
Though her teeth were still chattering uncontrollably, her eyes were smiling brightly at him.
"Merlin, Hermione! Only you would joke at a time like this," he said with exasperation.
She shrugged, although the gesture was barely noticed - her entire body was still shaking.
"At least...at least we didn't come back empty handed," Hermione trembled, as she unclenched her left fist.
There, lying in her hand, just below the burn mark that was now forming on her wrist, was Rowena Ravenclaw's compass.
Draco's eyes darted back and forth between the compass and Hermione's face.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're bloody brilliant?" he asked with affection.
Hermione managed a weak smile, "It's been known to happen on occasion."
Draco returned the smile and then cast another drying spell on her. After performing the same spell on himself, he groped through the fog, gathered both of their packs, and returned to Hermione's prone form. Pulling his cloak from his pack, he gingerly wrapped it around Hermione's trembling body.
"How we doing?" he asked, with concern.
"Never better," she chattered.
"Hermione..."
But Draco cut himself off - as the sound of footsteps approaching caused him to look up in alarm. Clutching his wand tightly, he bent over Hermione and whispered, "Don't move."
Taking a few steps away from her, Draco crouched behind a boulder and waited - his heart pounding as the footsteps drew nearer.
For the first time since their arrival at the cove, Draco felt gratitude for the fog - it protectively hid himself from whomever it was that was approaching. And as frustrating as it was not being able to see who the perpetrator was, Draco was sure he had the advantage as he listened to the footsteps as they slowly stepped over the crumbling rocks.
At precisely the right moment, he would attack.
But just as Draco was ready to disarm the unwelcome visitor, his wand flew from his hand as a deep voice sounded in the mist.
"Expelliarmus."
It was with a startling realization that Draco realized he recognized the voice.
"I know you're here, Draco, " came the suave, confident voice of Lucius Malfoy, "I heard your voice - so don't cower like the gutless wonder that you truly are," he paused, "I have your wand. What will you do? Attack me like a filthy, barbaric muggle?"
Draco's heart was pounding so rapidly against his chest that he felt certain it would break through his ribcage at any moment.
He faced a moment of uncertainty before he stepped out from behind the boulder to face the man he had once called his father.
There was no doubt in Draco's mind, that Lucius would kill Hermione the moment he saw her. But as long as she remained concealed within the fog, she would be safe.
Hermione still had the Horcrux.
And Draco understood with a new certainty that that was all that mattered.
He knew that Hermione was too weak to apparate, but if he could bide some time, distract Lucius, maybe Hermione could get away and get help.
Then, he was certain, she would figure out how to destroy the Horcrux.
And that would be Draco's final sacrifice.
Surely, Lucius would kill him - but if he could save Hermione, and she could get away and destroy the Horcrux; it would all be worth it.
He would finally have his redemption.
And at last everyone would know of his true loyalties - the fact that he would not be around to share in that triumphant was irrelevant.
They would know.
And that was enough.
"What do you want Lucius?" Draco asked, as he stepped from around the boulder that concealed him.
Keep him away from Hermione.
Lucius was only two arm's lengths in front of Draco, but with the dense fog that encompassed the cove, he appeared as a shadowy silhouette.
"Ah, Draco," said Lucius snidely, "At last. It's been what? Six years? And here I thought after all this time that you were dead."
"What do you want?" Draco demanded as he took a step closer.
Within this new proximity, Draco could make out his father's features more clearly - and was shocked by what he saw. Lucius' face appeared to be demented - twisted and distorted with insanity.
Or, Draco thought with disdain, Was I too blind to see the madness that had always been there?
"I find it strange," Lucius began, as he moved towards Draco, making himself finally visible, "...that the Dark Lord would ask me to come to this location - in France, of all places, to keep watch for muggles and wizards that don't know how to mind their own business." He paused, as he took in Draco's appearance for the first time in six years. "And then," he continued, as he circled Draco like a predator closing in on it's prey, "...to my great surprise, I find my estranged son, in muggle clothes in a cove in the middle of the night."
Draco furrowed his brow as Lucius came full circle and faced him once again.
"Can you imagine why I am thus perplexed, Draco?"
"What do you want?" Draco asked again with determination.
Lucius seemed to be ignoring him. He took Draco's own wand, and pressed it under Draco's chin, lifting his face up as though he were examining an animal.
"My, how you've grown, Draco," Lucius said as he continued to scrutinize his appearance, "You can surely understand why I assumed you were dead, " he went on, "...because if you were alive, you would have returned to myself and the other Death Eaters after that pitiful excuse to murder Dumbledore."
His piercing blue eyes held Draco's. "Naturally, I assumed you were dead - if you were alive, that would mean that you were a..." Lucius paused as he challenged Draco to contradict him.
"...traitor."
Draco said nothing, but refused to look away.
He had spent too many years cowering from his father.
It was ironic that here - in the end, would be when he finally defied him.
"You do not deny it?" Lucius asked, intrigued.
When Draco said nothing, Lucius smirked, "You pathetic excuse for a son."
"No, Lucius," Draco said, as he leaned even closer to his father, "You're the one who's pathetic. Threatening to use your own wife as a bargaining chip - murdering and torturing only those who were weaker that you...," Draco scoffed with a smirk, "That sounds pretty pathetic to me."
Draco didn't even have time to blink before a hand roughly smacked across his face.
"You never did learn respect," said Lucius, disgustedly, "Now answer me honestly, Draco. Why are you here?"
Draco ran a hand over his bleeding lip before he looked up with a smirk, "What? You don't believe that I came to meet you here so that we could do that father/son fishing trip we had planned?"
"Insolent boy!" Lucius screamed, as he grabbed Draco's turtleneck and violently yanked him forward. His crazed eyes were only inches away from Draco's face.
"I tried to be reasonable with you," Lucius spat, "But I will except your failure no longer. Better you had died that day with that old fool Dumbledore! Where is he now, Draco? The 'greatest wizard of our time', indeed!"
Lucius' voice was rising with every passing word. The madness within seemed to be leaking out with each breath.
"The Dark Lord has infiltrated the Ministry! Soon, he will declare himself Minister of Magic! No one can stop him now! And where is that pathetic excuse for a wizard, Potter?" He spat, disgustedly, "Did he truly believe that he could defeat the most powerful wizard in the world? Ha!"
Lucius' wand made a sudden movement and was now pressing against Draco's throat, "Goodbye, Draco," Lucius whispered maliciously into Draco's ear, "This is something I should have done long ago."
And with that, he took a step back, eyed Draco darkly, and said, "Avada - "
"EXPELLIARMUS!" shouted Hermione - emerging from the dense fog like a fallen angel.
Both Lucius' and Draco's wands flew from the elder man's hands and were launched into the air - allowing Hermione to catch them easily.
Shaky on her feet, Hermione slowly approached Lucius - three wands trained on his chest.
She was still pale, and trembling - whether from the frigid water, or fear - Draco was not sure.
Lucius' eyes widened with surprise, "Well, if it isn't the mudblood, Granger! Why, it's been much too long!" he exclaimed in a scoff tone as he looked back and forth between Hermione and Draco, "So," he paused, "My son is in leave with a mudblood, is he?"
"Shut up!" Draco shouted as he roughly grabbed his father's robes, "Do NOT speak that word in my presence!"
Lucius' eyes narrowed, "Blood traitor," he spat in Draco's face.
And then his attention returned to Hermione.
"But it has been too long, hasn't it?" he questioned mockingly, as he struggled to see around Draco's shoulder. "Let's see...Oh, yes! I remember...I do believe the last time that I saw you was in that abandoned museum on the outskirts of London..." Lucius trailed off as his eyes shot like daggers into Hermione.
Hermione froze.
She nearly dropped all three wands.
"I know you remember," said Lucius, darkly.
Draco appeared momentarily confused until the wretched realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
Hermione looked as though someone hit her square in the gut - and she nearly doubled over.
Ron.
"It was supposed to be you," Lucius continued, "Do you remember? My orders were to kill you - mudblood. For the Dark Lord himself to acknowledge you from the rest - well, that's quite the honor," he whispered, as he struggled against Draco. "You see, he knew just how filthy your blood was."
Tears were freely spilling down Hermione's cheeks as she tried to comprehend what was happening.
"Weasley, wasn't it? Well, he was a pureblood - a blood traitor, but a pureblood, nonetheless. How does it make you feel? Knowing that he should be alive, and you dead?"
"Shut the hell up!" Draco screamed, as he roughly threw his father back against a large rock, "Don't you speak another word to her!"
But Lucius appeared more demented than ever and fought roughly against Draco, "I killed him! I did it! What will you do now, mudblood? What will - "
"STUPEFY!!"
The force of the spell was unlike anything Draco had ever seen.
The combined power of Hermione's already prodigious skill - along with two additional wands resulted in a display of light, color, and power that was unsurpassed.
Lucius was thrown violently from Draco's grasp and landed roughly into the cove.
The splash of water echoed throughout the entire inlet as he surfaced - sputtering for breath.
Hermione still had all three wands trained on him as he looked up with contempt.
"Why, you filthy little - "
But Lucius' words were cut off as he let out a dreadful scream.
His head bobbed as he was pulled slightly under the surface.
Kicking and screaming frantically, Lucius' fearful eyes sought both Hermione and Draco.
"HELP! Help me! It's burning...my leg! HELP ME!" he screamed as he momentarily submerged before he fought his way back to the surface.
But Hermione's feet were rooted to the spot.
After all this time, she knew who Ron's killer was.
And as much as she willed her arm upwards to levitate the man out of the water; her body refused to respond.
She stared without feeling as she watched the man struggle.
Beside her, Draco looked on as his father was dragged beneath the surface.
With a final effort of defiance against her body - an extreme effort unlike anything she had ever known, Hermione took a small step forward and raised her wand.
"No," whispered Draco, as he gently lowered her arm.
Hermione looked at Draco, slightly perplexed.
"No."
And Draco was looking her over with such admiration and affection that she felt slightly flushed.
"Justice has been satisfied," he said slowly, turning his head to the water. It rippled furiously from where the skeleton had descended, carrying his father to the watery grave that awaited him.
"He won't be able to hurt anyone ever again."
Though her entire body ached, her wrist burned, and she was shivering violently from head to toe as she clutched what was certainly a cracked rib from when Draco had revived her; Hermione had never felt more at peace in her life than at this moment. The closure that she had long been seeking since Ron's death seemed to encompass her body like a warm blanket.
It was finally over.
And Draco - who had just watched his own father die right before his eyes, wrapped his arms carefully around her.
"Let's go home," he whispered into her hair.
Too exhausted to do anything else, Hermione nodded, and soon she felt the familiar compression of apparation as Draco turned on the spot, and she was whisked away into nothingness.
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At Muron Castle, Draco gently laid Hermione down on her favorite sofa by the fireplace.
"How are you?" he asked, gently.
Hermione's sorrel eyes sought his own, "How are you?"
Draco gave her a weak smile as he sat next to her prone form on the sofa.
"I'm fine. He...he deserved every bit of what happened," Draco whispered, as he thought of his father. "He murdered hundreds of muggles and muggle-borns - and he killed...Ron."
Hermione looked at him with such compassion and tenderness that Draco felt as though his heart would explode.
"I'm sorry," he finished, as he looked at his hands.
"Hey," said Hermione, wincing, as she propped herself up so they were nearly eye-level. "His actions had nothing to do with you. I would never, ever blame you for Ron's death."
Draco nodded, "I know...It's just that...I'm...ashamed that it was him."
Hermione gave a weak smile, gently placed her right arm around Draco's neck, and pulled him forward to give him a chaste kiss on his cheek, "That's what separates you from him."
Draco looked mildly startled as he rubbed the spot on his cheek where Hermione's lips had been mere seconds before - as if by physically touching the spot, he could reaffirm that she had actually kissed him.
"Here," said Draco, as he lowered Hermione back onto the sofa, "Lay down. I need to heal that rib - and your wrist is burned."
"So is your hand and neck," Hermione interjected.
Draco nodded, "I'll take care of it."
A moment later, Draco returned with a jar of salve and his wand. He healed Hermione's rib and gingerly rubbed the salve on her wrist.
"Here," Hermione said, as she dipped her fingers into the jar of salve, "Let me get your palm."
Draco nodded wordlessly as Hermione tenderly massaged his burned hand. Her face was concentrating deeply and she was so focused on the task that Draco found he could not look away.
"Better?" she asked, as she looked up at him.
He stared into her eyes for several seconds before he could find his voice.
"Yeah - thanks."
"Let me get your neck."
Draco obliged by tilting his head slightly upwards - allowing Hermione access to his neck. Her nimble fingers were gentle and soft as she applied the ointment. Their faces were in such close proximity to one another that Draco took advantage of the moment to study Hermione's face.
If he looked closely - very closely, he could see small specks of gold in her chestnut irises.
Stunning.
"Where did you put the compass?" Hermione asked, as she finished with the salve and lowered herself back onto the couch.
"Right here," gestured Draco, as he shook his rucksack.
Hermione nodded and closed her eyes.
She was mildly embarrassed that she felt tears welling up in the corners.
Physically, she was drained - but emotionally, she could barely think. The fact that Ron's murderer was now dead was the most overwhelming feeling - it encompassed every inch of her body.
"Hey," said Draco, gently - causing Hermione to open her eyes, "You okay?"
She nodded, "Yeah...it's just...it's a lot to process in one day."
"I understand," said Draco, as he stood, "Rest. You've been through a lot today - you saved my life, you know."
Hermione smiled, "And you saved mine - so I guess that makes us even."
Draco smiled warmly as he turned from the fire, "Goodnight," he said, and then slowly made to walk through the atrium.
After a few footsteps, Hermione called out to him, "Wait..."
Draco stopped mid-stride and turned his head slightly in Hermione's direction.
"Will..." she started, but then paused - unsure just how to finish.
"Will you stay?"
A joy so exquisite that was unlike any other spread through the entire expanse of Draco's body. His father - his own flesh and blood - had murdered someone that was very dear to her, and she still excepted him. Not only excepted him - but - wanted to be near him.
Simply incredible.
He was at her side in two quick steps.
"Of course."
And there was an indescribable look in her eyes.
A look that Draco never thought he would see anyone direct towards him.
But it was there.
He could not deny it.
Slowly - methodically, he lowered himself to the couch as Hermione maneuvered her body so her back was pressed against the sofa's cushion - her head pillowed by the armrest.
Her eyes never left his as he turned his body towards her.
And timidly - hesitantly, she moved her body closer to him.
Draco reached down and pulled his discarded traveling cloak from the floor and threw it over Hermione. It radiated with the heat from the fireplace.
She inched closer until she finally buried her head in his chest - reveling in his body heat.
Cautiously, Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Hermione responded by nestling herself even nearer and sighing deeply.
And for several moments, Draco sat in the silent absurdity of it all. Holding on to the woman that he thought he had once despised - having her now be the one person he cared about more than anything.
It was an ironic - to say the least.
But then Hermione's breathing became deeper and more evenly spaced. When he was quite certain that she was asleep, he gingerly brushed her thick, chestnut hair away from her face and gently kissed her forehead.
For the first time in his life - here in the moment; Draco truly felt at home.
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