A.N~ I hope you are all doing well! Stormy weather ahead- a bit of a long chapter today. Thanks for your reviews and love, I'm glad you like the story and happy reading.

By the end of the day, Severus had chopped down a considerable number of small trees and Hermione had braided countless vines. They called it quits when he tried to cut through a trunk and accidently sliced his palm open. He had then proceeded to curse and swear about stupid muggle inventions and how this would never happen with a wand, stomping up and down the small beach. Hermione thought it was more likely operator error, though she kept that opinion to herself.

Once he had calmed down somewhat, she spoke. "Let me bandage your hand, Professor. It'll get infected otherwise."

"I am perfectly capable of-"

"Looking after yourself, yes, I know. But you might waste supplies trying to do it one handed, and we can't afford to be anything other than efficient." Days alongside the surly man had lessened her fear of him, at least a little.

"Fine. But be quick about it."

Hermione retrieved the travel sized first aid kit and opened it, inspecting the meagre provisions. Removing the pearly white bandage and tube of antiseptic cream, she sat down in the sand before him. The witch felt her pulse raise a little, feeling uneasy at being so close to him. She could see her Professor shared the sentiment, for his scowl had deepened. He thrust his had towards her petulantly. The cut was fairly deep, and already dirty with sand.

"Sorry sir, this might sting."

"I've lived half my life under the cruciatus, idiot witch. Now get on with it."

She took his sliced palm in her hand, rinsing it with the water bottle. She noticed that his hands felt rough and worn, from years of work in a potion's lab and performing torturous acts, she supposed. Carefully, she applied a thin layer of antiseptic, wincing as he sucked in a breath. She looked up at him, not realising his head was bent to inspect her work. The witch was startled by their proximity and the depth of his obsidian eyes. She had never noticed it before. A blush crept up her neck.

Why was the idiot girl blushing? And why had he felt a sudden pull in his loins when she had glanced up at him like that? He was clearly suffering from heatstroke. She didn't look at him again, swiftly bandaging his hand and standing. He noticed the practiced way with which she had wrapped it, not too tight nor too loose. It made him wonder how many others she had bandaged. He sometimes forgot he wasn't the only one who had been through a war.

The girl hadn't moved from where she stood and was now staring over him and out to sea, biting her lip nervously. He turned to see what had her anxious and cringed inwardly. On the horizon, no more than ten miles from the island, was a massive cluster of thick purple clouds. They were twice the size of yesterday's and looked much more menacing.

"What should we do?" Her voice was quiet, and quivering. Hermione didn't like storms. Normally, though, she was safely tucked beneath her blankets with the notion that the strong walls of Hogwarts castle was protecting her. Here, nothing at all stood between her and those looming clouds.

"There isn't much we can do. We'll tie together some of the trees and make a wall, which we can lean against the bank for some shelter from the rain." He acted blasé and didn't mention the wind which would undoubtedly be coming, there was nothing they could do about that. No point in sending the girl into a blind panic. He could tell by the way her nails dug into her palms that she was afraid, which surprised him. She had been through a war and had stayed standing in the presence of a psychotic madman, yet the weather frightened her?

Another couple of coconuts had fallen since the morning, so Hermione collected those to distract herself. They had half a bottle of water left and it would have to do, she didn't want to risk being stuck in the jungle during the storm. It was drawing ever closer and swiftly gathering force. The sun had disappeared entirely, and the island felt much more threatening in shades of grey. The temperature was dropping, and waves were beginning to rush against the sand with ferocity. Severus was thankful their cavern in the embankment was a-ways up the beach, hopefully out of the oceans reach.

They pitched their little wall, made of slim saplings and some of the braided vines. Hermione packed in the bottom with sand and tied some vines to the tree trunks on the bank, in an effort to secure it down like the tents she and her parents used to camp in. Severus couldn't help but mutter darkly to himself, wondering what the night would hold. There was a small stash of coconuts, a few sips of water and their bags tucked in the space with them.

Hermione had somehow fallen asleep, when the first thunderclap shook the island. She sat up hurriedly, unable to keep the whimper from her lips. A few moments later, a blinding light pierced through the cracks of their homemade wall. It was followed by another round of thunder. The storm was directly overhead. Hermione backed herself right up against the sand bank, praying for the stupid wall to hold.

"Lie down. Your fussing is keeping me awake."

She hadn't realised he wasn't sleeping.

"I can't sleep. I'll stay still."

"Lie. Down."

Scared of the storm, but now equally scared of the angry ex-death eater next to her, Hermione lay down. Her eyes widened in utter astonishment when she felt him gently toss something over her. She could feel the residual body heat that clung to the large wad of fabric. Gathering it in her hands, she realised he had given her his teaching robes.

"Prof-"

"Sleep"

Still taken by surprise, Hermione didn't protest further. She reasoned that he was doing it for his own personal gain and wrapped his robes around her, pulling the collar up over her head. It felt cosy, and protective. She could vaguely smell his cologne, and she was hit with an overwhelming ache of longing. The robe smelled of pine trees, spices, and potions. She thought of the castle, nestled beside the black lake and the forbidden forest. Would she ever see the tall parapets of Hogwarts again? Silent tears dripped down her face and soaked into the woolly fabric of the robes. She missed her friends, her parents and most of all, her magic. The tingle at her fingertips, the rush of energy which filled her heart when she performed spells. At least she wasn't alone. She looked over at the piece of her wizarding life which remained. He might be a total ass, but she wouldn't make it far without her potion's professor. She could hear his gentle snoring. It seemed out of place; she would've expected it to be as loud and abrasive as his personality. The soft sound of his breathing accompanied by the smell and warmth of his robes awarded her the best sleep since their arrival on the island, despite the harrowing weather outside.

It was still raining the next morning. The pair ate a breakfast of chocolate and coconut. Severus stuck the bottle outside to collect rainwater, he hadn't yet uttered a single word to her. The awkward silence eventually grew too much for Hermione.

"Thank you for letting me borrow your robes."

"Yes, well, I wanted some rest, and you were shuffling."

"I've been afraid of storms since I was a little girl. I don't really know why, it's just one of those irrational fears, I guess. Usually, I've got my blankets and plenty of walls to make me feel better. I had the best sleep since coming here last night though, thanks to your robes." Hermione trailed off, leaving the rain as the only sound to fill the void once more.

Did she just imply that his robes bought her comfort? How ridiculous. A layer of fabric wasn't going to do much good if mother nature decided to come after them. She truly was deluded. Something compelled him not to voice the thought however, so he simply said,

"You are welcome."

The morning was spent discussing the best way to build a shelter and how they would spend their energy. Since becoming stranded, neither had heard or seen a scrap of evidence to suggest humanity existed somewhere nearby. That was the trouble with magic, Severus supposed. It was brilliant, sure. But when things went wrong, they went very, very wrong and you ended up in the middle of nowhere with an annoying little know-it-all. The two concluded that the first priority was to build adequate shelter. After all, they would have plenty of time to signal for help if they remained alive. Severus wanted to build the shelter closer to the jungle. Hermione wanted to protest; she still felt the presence of a silent, unseen stalker whenever she went near. But her pride won out and she was unable to admit to this, so it was agreed that the shelter would be build near the jungle. They would stay under the bank while it was constructed.

By early afternoon, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Each had drunk a full bottle of water and they'd eaten the last few pieces of chocolate. Hermione looked at the empty paper apprehensively. She could feel her ribs beginning to poke through, the lack of nutrient beginning to take hold. They needed proper food. Any food was better than no food though, and she headed down the beach to look for coconuts. There were plenty, both green and brown. The storm had ripped them from their trees, taking no prisoners. She shuddered, grateful it hadn't done the same to her.

As she turned to carry back her second armful, a sparkle in the sand caught her eye. Dropping the coconuts, she ran over to it. A large clump of what looked like disfigured sand lay at her feet. She picked it up. It was solid. It felt like… glass? But it was rough and mishappen. How did glass end up here? Hermione's memory was the reason the golden trio had survived, it hadn't let her down yet, and it didn't let her down now. A documentary she had watched with her father some years before sprung to mind. A muggle scientist had visited a beach after a storm, where a series of strange sculptures had been found. When lightening hit the sand, it created obscure glass "sculptures." The ones on the telly had been much more elaborate, but she couldn't think of another explanation. In her mind library, she went to the shelf of muggle survival guides, and she paused. Could she make fire with this? The idea was ridiculous. However, she rationed, some years ago she would've thought magic ridiculous too. She popped the glass into her pocket and headed back to the cavern.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent in a similar fashion to previous, with Severus hacking his way through small jungle saplings and Hermione making ropes with vine. They didn't last long though; darkness began to encroach once again. The witch was secretly relieved, she felt lightheaded from the lack of food and her body was weak. She crawled into the small dip she had carved in the sand and closed her eyes.

Severus could see that Hermione was weakening. Her movements were slower, her curls were dull, and the life was slipping from her fawn eyes. He felt slightly unnerved by this, and guilty. Despite it being her rescue mission, the blame was mainly his. He should've checked the portkey before they used it, he knew all too well how useless the ministry could be. He told himself it was guilt that drove him to pull off his robes and lay them over the shivering girl, tucking it under her legs before falling asleep himself.