In The Previous Chapter

He didn't know what drove him to do it, but he suddenly went over quietly to Hermione and sat down beside her.

"Hey," he said gently.

Hermione looked up and Draco thought he saw that her cheeks were tear-streaked. Damn, he thought, she had been thinking again.

"Look." He suddenly said, pointing to the sky. Hermione, glad that Draco hadn't seen her tears, looked at the direction where he was pointing.

It took a little time for her eyes to adjust to the light. She could hear the waves hitting against the shore, the caw of sea gulls. She also caught the sweet tropical scent of something wet and green she suspected was the sea.

She knelt down on the flat rock and froze. Everything froze – her ability to speak, her breath and for an instant, her heartbeat.

Spread out before her was a broad cove of a tropical inlet, entirely arched in a thick rainbow of pink, purple, blue and yellow. Beneath the rainbow were lush green hills. In the distance was the high, dark cone of a volcano. A small cloud of mist ringed the tall peak and made the island look as if it touched the heavens above.

The water in the cove bled from deep aqua blue to pale green to a brilliant silvery color just before it foamed like spun sugar into the wet sand. Spiky pandanus palms and bushes thick with flowers the color of the tropical sunset spread from the green hills all the way down to the edge of the beach, where the white sand took on pink tints from the cast of the slowly setting sun.

Even the sky was different here. The late afternoon sun was a yellowish-pink ball in the west, where clouds strolled by wearing colors of gray and lavender. It was the same sky, yet it seemed too brilliant for it to be earthly. Perhaps it was because this island's beauty was something she had never before experienced.

Like yesterday's dream, the rainbow had faded. A cloud blocked the sun, but there was still enough tropical warmth to cause steam to rise up from the sand and from the lush green ferns and bushes behind the beach. Tall coconut palms waved in the trade wind like welcoming hands. Their color turned from green to violet to purple while the gleam of the sea blended from silver to pink.

Surprised that something like that could touch her so deeply, Hermione stared at the changing colors so real, yet so unreal. She had seen islands, had seen the setting sun and pink skies after a storm. She had seen many beaches during her holidays with her family.

But it was so different it was hard to believe it was the same South Seas that she had known all her life. There was more than just a sense of peace about this island. More than a place saturated in beauty. It was untouched, isolated, as if the world had passed it by. Not forsaken, but hidden. A treasure so precious, the nature had protected it.

Draco had tapped her shoulder to get her attention, but Hermione still couldn't tear her eyes away from the beauty that lies before her. All she could say was, "This is paradise."

Revenge Is Sweet

"This is stupid," Draco raked his fingers through his silvery hair. He was getting so damn frustrated and he let his exasperation show.

"What is stupid? The fact that I just made a suggestion or that you don't agree with it?"

Draco rolled his gray eyes and sighed with fatigue.

"The fact that you just made a suggestion," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"That is the most-"

"Look, Granger, I'll bathe wherever and whenever I want. You can't stop me. Plus, I think that you are the one who's destroying the natural environment. You take a bath five times a day. Isn't that enough soap to go around?"

Hermione's face flushed, but she regained her composure fast.

"I'm not even suggesting that you shouldn't bathe at all. For God's sake, I'm just saying that we should actually ration the water for bathing. Then there wouldn't be any more soap floating in the waterfall."

"The waterfall doesn't even flow anywhere. What harm would it do?"

"It's environmentally ugly! Or are you too blinded by all the soap to see so?" Hermione retorted sarcastically.

"Listen, if you want to bathe somewhere else or ration your own water, I don't mind. Just hope that I don't pass by wherever it is you choose to bathe at."

With that, Draco turned his back on Hermione's face, which was right now, tinted pink.

While Hermione was thinking about another comeback, Draco suddenly stopped in his tracks and tossed a comment that made Hermione's face blush further.

"By the way, don't waste your last wish on buckets. Try your mouth for the rationing. It just might work. It's big enough, trust me."

Hermione glared at his back and hoped that she would bore a hole bigger than his head on it. She suddenly diverted her gaze, or rather, glare, at the pile of clothes in his hut. She smiled a weird smile. Revenge is sweet.

She swiped his clothes. She had sneaked to the waterfall when he was bathing and took his clothes away. She was about to laugh out loud when she caught sight of Draco's muscular chest. She stopped in her tracks, but was still covered by the huge boulder in front of her.

She saw Draco lathering his arms with the soap and then his chest. She stared open-mouthed as she took in Draco's upper torso profile all at once. Finally, she decided that she had had enough and that she would drool if she had stayed back further. She left the waterfall and ran all the way back to the beach.

By the time she reached the beach, she was panting like she had just run a thousand miles. Though she did realize that her panting had something to do with Draco's chest as well, that it wasn't all connected to her running.

She looked down at Draco's clothes in her hands and laughed out loud. Revenge is sweet, just as she thought.

By evening, a horrible thought suddenly arose in Hermione's head. She started thinking if revenge was really that sweet. Almost half a day had passed her by and she still hasn't seen Draco. She was so tired after the run and all the excitement that she almost slept through that half of the day. She woke up, only to feel Draco's soft clothes in her arms.

She was still in a daze when she went out of her own hut and walked to the waterfall. She was still rubbing her sleepy eyes when she realized that Draco wasn't in the waterfall.

Hugging his clothes in her hands, she broke into a run, as she was suddenly worried about Draco. A million thoughts ran through her head and out of these thoughts, only about one seemed positive enough to set her mind on ease.

She finally found him in his hut.

"Draco?" she called out gently, tentatively.

"Go soak your head, Granger." He was huddled in a knot in a dark corner, his knees pulled against his chest and his head turned away from her and resting on his knees.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying hard not to strangle you right this instant."

"Is this about the clothes?" Hermione asked, knowing that the answer even though he said nothing.

He slowly turned to face her and Hermione gasped at the silhouette of his face in the dark.

"I got sunburned; does it say anything, huh, smart ass?"

That was an understatement. He was sun-fried.

His face. His neck. His eyelids and lips and cheeks. His arms and hands were all bright reddish pink. There were even little tiny white creases in the corners of his eyes. It was one hell of a burn.

He looked down at Hermione's hands which were still hugging his clothes.

"I don't need those clothes anymore. About time you brought them back too, anyway, huh? You think so?"

Hermione felt about as low as a person could. She felt the most consuming sense of guilt, compounded by anger, all directed at herself. She wanted to say something. But the right words escaped him – if there even were right words for a time like this. So she just stood in the doorway, not knowing what else to do or say.

Draco shifted and tried to get up, then gasped in pain.

"I'll help," Hermione quickly rushed over to him and took hold of his forearm.

Draco flung her arms away and gave up the motion of standing. Instead, he just sat there, glaring at her. Hell, it even hurt just glaring.

"Haven't you done enough?" his voice held such a bitter edge that Hermione felt like she had shrunk to the size of a ferret.

"I-I didn't know you would stay there for such a long time…" Hermione started.

"So you're saying it wasn't your friggin' fault?"

"Well… technically…"

"Technically, basically, practically, theoretically, I do NOT want to hear any more technicalities coming from your friggin' mouth."

Hermione shut her mouth up and held back whatever comments she had about him.

"I-I'm sorry." Hermione whispered.

He didn't say anything, except mutter something like, "Eternal damnation on your dark soul."

"I didn't mean to. It's just that… this early afternoon, you got me so riled up that I just did whatever that came to my mind."

"Oh. So I really should be glad that you didn't wish for a Colt 45 gun and just shoot me in the head just because that was the first thought that popped into your mind? I see." Draco's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Hermione sighed; Draco can be such a difficult, demanding, crude person at times. But she knew that this was mostly her fault and that she should and would take full responsibility for it.

With that thought, she turned and walked out of his hut. Draco snorted at her apology and turned on his side to feel more comfortable when he realized that no part of his body was really comfortable after all, after that sun-burning session in the waterfall. That friggin' woman was so damn vengeful and evil. How could she just swipe his clothes without thinking about the fact that he wouldn't come out of the waterfall until hours later, when he realizes finally that she wasn't around?


Suddenly, there was a loud plop beside him and he managed to turn around on his other side without moaning with pain. All he saw was a big pile of food and Hermione kneeling beside him, smiling her apologetic smile once again.

"What do you want from me now?" Draco almost pleaded. He just wanted a good rest, to rest his bones, minds, and most of all, skin. Was that too much to ask for? Honestly, that woman can be a mental torture when she wanted to. Was she doing this on purpose? Draco couldn't help but wonder.

"Nothing. I was just thinking-"

Now we've got trouble… Draco thought, rolling his eyes. What a surprise. Hermione thinking.

"- that since I got you into this mess, I should actually take care of you properly until you fully recover."

"Why, thank you so much," Draco had fake gratitude written all over his face and contained all over in his voice.

Hermione frowned.

"Don't be so grateful… I might choke…" Hermione mumbled softly, so that no one could hear whatever it is she was mumbling except her.

Drake looked at the pile of fruit she placed before him and grimaced as he stretched his neck further. He could practically feel his skin shredding. He felt like a caterpillar molting. It was a terrible feeling.

Hermione caught that grimace of his and quickly sat beside him and set him slowly down. Draco glared at her and tried his best to shrug her off once he was down on the ground again. He didn't want her stupid help. Of all people, why would he pick her to help him?

What kind of nonsense will that be?

Hermione bit her lip from snapping out loud at Draco. He was being such an insufferable git. Here she was, sorry for what she had done, then there he goes, snapping at her at every chance he got.

What kind of nonsense is that?

Draco looked up at Hermione and realized that she wasn't going to budge one foot if he didn't at least eat a morsel. He felt like sighing, then decided not to let Hermione see that she had indeed exasperated him beyond belief.

He slowly placed both palms on the ground and pushed his whole weight up. Before he knew it, Hermione was already supporting his weight with both her hands. They were both pressing into his back, making him cry out.

Hermione gasped and quickly set him down, making him grimace in pain.

Before Hermione could say anything, Draco raised a weary hand to silence her. He just knew that she was going to say sorry once again. Damn, but he was getting sick of that word.

He reached slowly for a piece of breadfruit and determined now to show Hermione any signs of pain even though it hurt like hell, he slowly turned around. Determined not to let Hermione watch him eat like a mother hen fussing over her chicks. He hated that kind of treatment.

As soon as he turned around, he heard a sharp intake of breath. Coming from Hermione. His shoulders slumped with fatigue. He decided to ignore Hermione and not ask her what the hell was it that made her gasp like that. He didn't even touch her.

"W-who did this t-to you?" Hermione half-whispered.

Draco was wondering what she was talking about when he suddenly realized it. She saw them; that's why she was gasping. Despite his pain, he quickly reached for his shirt and tried putting it on.

Hermione snatched his shirt away from him and continued staring at his back.

"Are you going to keep stealing my clothes?" Draco asked, in what he hoped was a cold and demanding voice. But he knew that there was this certain quiver in his voice that none of them could ignore.

Hermione ignored that question. She repeated hers instead.

"Who did this to you?" she repeated in a firm voice.

Draco suddenly felt far from protective. He felt furious. Who was she to question him like that? And in that tone, too. She had no right to question him and therefore, he had no right to answer her. It was as simple as that. No real logic behind that.

It was when she repeated her question for the fourth time did he finally open his mouth. Just to shut her up.

"I did."

For a moment, Hermione felt that Draco was telling the truth. After all, he seemed like such a sadistic person to her. Then, hearing the slight anguish in his voice, she wagered that he couldn't have done it to himself.

"Don't lie to me."

Draco suddenly turned around swiftly, ignoring his aching back.

"Who the hell do you think you are, questioning me like that? You have absolutely no right," Draco half-shouted.

Hermione cowered back, afraid to look up and meet the midnight blue flecks in his gray eyes welcoming her. She looked down, fearful of what he might do to her.

He was right. She had no right. None at all. So why was she asking him the exact question. She knew she had to have the answers, but somehow, she didn't want to hear it from him.

She finally looked up.

"You're right. I am no one. and I have no right," she whispered. Draco looked surprised at her easy acceptance of his temper. He thought for sure that she might just flare up in his face.

But Hermione continued. "But is it really wrong to care?"

With that, she turned around and walked out of the hut.

Draco felt the fury in him dissipate quickly. He suddenly felt strange. Not anger, nor fear. He felt warm and comfort in place of other emotions. He tried holding his tears back, but he couldn't. He attempted to stand on his head. The pain inside and outside combined was too much.

Care? Nobody had done that for him. Not his so-called close friends. Let alone his father. His mother had cared. And in the end, she got more than cares. She got whips. Was that fair? Draco couldn't tell at a young age, neither could he now.

Care. He felt this word caressing his soul and muttering nonsensical words to it, as if soothing it.

He wondered what was it that made Hermione care. He wondered and wondered until he felt that his tears had dried up on his face. He had tasted the salt in his tears and all he could feel then was sweetness.

For once, then. Just once, in his lifetime. He wanted more than care. He wanted love.