A/N: Hello! First off, I got asked about their ages in this fic. So- in the film Titanic , Rose is 17, and Jack is 20. I'm going to leave Ron 20, but I feel better about Hermione being 18, so we'll go with that :) Cal is 30 in the movies, So I'll go with Malfoy being 30 as well.

I'd like to thank Cheesy, ArrayofColours, and BlueGreenAndPurple for being the best human beings in existence for beta-ing for me! (even if BGP doesn't shut up about how cool she is)

Every chapter will be switching between Hermione and Ron's POV. I think it will make for a much better story this way, and it is also necessary for many reasons!

Again, if you have any questions, feel free to ask :) Otherwise, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

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Day 1-

Ron Weasley stared hard at the chessboard, his face blank and expressionless. On the outside, he was as cool as a cucumber; but on the inside, he was already screaming in celebration. He knew that he was about to win this game fair and square, and he was trying desperately to mask his excitement. His opponent — whose name apparently was Justin — had been good, better than most actually. But still, Ron knew the game was almost over and that he would be the one coming out victorious.

Ron's free hand gripped the side of the wooden chair he was sitting on so hard that his knuckles were white. He could almost feel the anxiety rolling off of Harry, his best friend, who had been standing behind his left shoulder for the entirety of the game. This, after all, was no ordinary game — their whole future now depended on it. This time, his best mate was counting on him, and Ron fully intended on coming through.

Allowing a lopsided grin to stretch across his face, Ron moved his rook into position and lifted his head to meet the eyes of his opponent. The man was sweating like a bullet, and Ron couldn't help but feel a smidge of sympathy for the bloke.

"Checkmate."

A few things happened in quick succession. Justin stood up, his eyes filled with rage as he stared down at Ron. However, before his opponent could act, another man standing behind Justin let out a loud roar as he tackled the brown haired man, causing Ron to jump back in surprise as the small table crashed to the floor. Ron threw himself down to hastily grab the two tickets and the spare change that had been their wager- now scattered around the table. After it was all safely in his hand, he jumped up to tightly embrace his best mate.

"We're going! We're going! Ohmygod, we're going!" Harry said, his hand covering his mouth in disbelief, his eyes brimming with tears.

Ron could feel Harry's body shaking. He knew how much winning those tickets meant to his friend, and his own eyes watered as he thought about why.

It had been almost a year since Harry discovered that he had a living godfather named Sirius Black, who he hoped was still living in the small town in Virginia, where his parents died. Harry had lost both of his parents when he was just a baby, and like Ron, he had grown up in the London foster system. Ever since finding out about Sirius, Harry had been hell bent on getting to him, and Ron was determined to make it happen as well. Unfortunately, with their lack of money, getting to America was never a possibility, until fate played its cards. Ron could hardly believe their good fortune that they had decided to have an afternoon drink that day.

"We're going to find him, mate," Ron said into Harry's ear, hearing him let out a choking sob that sounded like relief.

Finding Sirius Black was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack, and they both knew it. All they had to go on was a small newspaper clipping from 1981 — the year Harry's parents had been murdered. Sirius had apparently tried to get custody of Harry after their deaths, but as he was not blood and nothing had been put on paper beforehand, his request had been denied. Harry had been shipped away to the UK, where he was doomed to grow up while being moved from foster home to foster home, never experiencing what it was like to have a real family.

Ron turned to look out of the window to eye the giant ship, catching a glance at the nearby clock on the wall. His eyes widened when he realised that the departure time was only in ten minutes.

"Holy shite Harry, we gotta go!" he yelled over the noise of the bar that was now quite loud as the people cheered on the fight that was still going on between Justin and the other man.

"The flat!" Harry said as if suddenly remembering, his eyes conflicted.

Together they shared a shabby, cheap flat, and almost everything they owned was there, although it wasn't much.

Ron shook his head, extremely grateful that he carried his portfolio everywhere, because that was really the only possession of his that he cherished. He leaned his head down a bit to get eye to eye with the shorter man.

"All or nothing, mate. We go now and leave everything behind, or we stay and miss this opportunity."

At his words, Ron watched Harry's face changed from an expression of conflict to one of determination before giving him a nod. "It's not like we had much of anything, right?" he asked, his face breaking out into a grin.

"HA!" Ron yelled out, spinning around to head towards the exit, Harry following closely behind him.

In seconds, they were out of the bar and running through the throng of people that were there to gaze at the majestic ship. It was quite a sight and absolutely gigantic. Ron felt a bit frustrated when he had to slow down because Harry's legs were shorter than his and weren't able to quite keep up with his pace.

When they broke through the crowd, they started to run up the loading dock for third class. Although the door on the ship was open, they were just starting to pull the ramp away.

"Please, STOP!" Ron cried out as he came to a halt and put his hands on his knees bending over to catch his breath.

He heard Harry catch up several seconds later and stand behind him as he thrust the tickets out towards the man.

"We have...tickets. Need to...get on," Ron panted.

The man looked Ron up and down with a disapproving stare. "You should have been here five minutes ago. You cannot get on now. We are preparing to set off."

"Really?" he heard Harry ask, and Ron could immediately tell from the sound of his voice that he was up to something. "We are currently doing business with the Malfoy family," Harry went on in an authoritative tone, and Ron had to keep his head down to hide his smirk. "We helped them while they were down here, and as such, we were personally invited onto this ship."

Ron looked up to see the man hesitating, he seemed to be considering if Harry was credible or not.

"It's true, sir," Ron agreed. "Don't let our clothes fool you, we are actually undercover. Mr. Malfoy himself hired us to make sure that the staff was treating all of the guests right, no matter their class."

"That's right." Harry said, as he pulled out a small notepad from his bag. "We are supposed to take notes on every staff interaction. Your name, sir?" He looked up expectantly, and the man's mouth fell open.

"Oh, there's no need for that." He stepped aside to let them onto the ramp. "You gentlemen have a lovely trip."

Needing no further instruction, Harry and Ron took off, running up the ramp as fast as they could. As soon as they made it inside, they burst into laughter, making their way through what looked to be some sort of game room, the air heavy with cigarette smoke.

"You're a fucking genius Harry!" Ron exclaimed as he headed towards the door that would take them further into the ship.

Harry shrugged. "Honestly, I didn't know if it would work, but I knew that I had to do something ."

Ron nodded, awestruck as he looked around at how lavish everything was. "Let's go find our room, and then head on up to the deck," he suggested just as the ship started to move, his grin wide as their journey began.

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Fifteen minutes later, after double and triple checking the tickets in their hands, Ron and Harry were standing in a small hallway in front of the door of what would be their room for the next seven days. Ron opened it and walked inside, taking only seconds to see everything that the room had to offer. There was a small set of bunk beds and nothing else. In truth, it was more like a closet than a room, and Ron laughed as he stretched out his arms, easily touching both of the walls on either side.

"It's fucking tiny ," he chuckled as Harry walked past him and threw his backpack on the top bunk before climbing up there as well.

"Not too uncomfortable, though," he assured Ron as he stretched his legs out and let out a loud yawn.

Despite his laughter, the size didn't bother Ron; he had certainly slept in worse conditions, and he knew that Harry felt the same. Leaning down, he wedged himself into the bottom bunk and stretched his own body out. His feet hung off the end of the bed, but again, he wasn't bothered by this. If life had taught him anything, it was not to be picky, and right now he was just extremely grateful that they had made it on the ship at all. Above him, he heard Harry rifling through his backpack.

"Damn. I only got one extra outfit for us both," he called down. "Don't even have bloody pyjamas."

"S'ok," Ron replied. "We'll just have to wash an outfit a day and wear them back to back. Besides, we both usually sleep in our pants anyway."

"Right," Harry said, but Ron could tell that his friend's mind was now on something else. He was correct, because after a few moments of silence, Harry spoke again. "D'ya reckon that he'll want to have anything to do with me?" he asked in a quiet voice. "It's not like I have anything to offer him."

Ron squeezed out of his bed before standing up and resting his arms on Harry's mattress, looking at him. "I know he will," he assured his friend. "And you have a lot to offer him! You are hands down the best man that I know, and he's probably been just as alone as you were before I came into the picture." Ron gave Harry a wink that made him roll his eyes. "I'll even bet that he's still looking for you now."

Harry gave him a grateful smile. "I hope so."

"C'mon," Ron grinned. "Let's go out to the deck, maybe we'll see a dolphin!"

Laughing, they made their way up the stairs and out onto the lower deck, laughing at their good fortune and shoving at each other. Although windy, the day was beautiful, and the fresh smell of the salty air made Ron feel like a kid again. They started making their way to the railing, still shoving each other playfully.

"Thank fucking God that you are the master of chess!" Harry laughed, ruffling Ron's ginger locks.

"God's got nothing to do with it, Harry. I am the sodding king ," he responded, grabbing Harry and putting him in a headlock, rubbing his fist on his head as Harry playfully screamed.

Ron was laughing heartily, but a sense of being watched made him stop what he was doing. He looked around, a smile still on his face, and noticed a woman on the deck above eyeing them.

She was rich, that much he could immediately tell. Even if her fancy dress didn't make that clear, the straight prim and proper way that she was standing concreted that fact. She was breathtakingly beautiful— at least in his opinion. He blinked a few times, wondering if she was even real or just a figment of his imagination. As she continued to stare, Ron felt as if everything around him was no longer happening, like she was the only person on the ship with him. If he had believed silly things like magic, he would swear that she was a witch who had put him under a spell. Her hair was in a tight bun at the top of her head, but several stray curls had broken free and were whipping around her face. Ron wished that she would just let all of her hair down to join them - he was sure it would be mesmerizing.

He tilted his head to the side, wondering what she was thinking. Why was she staring at him ? She probably had spent more money on breakfast that morning than he had ever earned in his entire lifetime, and someone like her was sure to think of him as inferior. Despite this, her gaze made his heart start beating faster, and whilst she stared, he felt as if her eyes were pleading with him- wordlessly asking for help.

Regardless of the fact that there was not even a slim chance that he would be able to talk to someone like her, Ron felt himself being pulled towards her as if she were a magnet, and took a few steps closer in her direction, unable to stop himself from doing so. He did not know her, or even the first thing about her, but he wanted nothing more than to get that chance. He didn't know how he was going to get up there, but his mind was already made up. He needed to talk to her — no matter the consequences.

Just then though, a slim blonde man came up behind her, taking hold of her upper arm in a dominating way that made Ron's skin crawl. With an unpleasant lurch in his stomach, he realized that the git was none other than a bloody Malfoy.

The Malfoy family, although from America, were well known in the U.K; Ron had never purposely read about them, but their pictures were just about everywhere, promoting their ships and flaunting their wealth, and you had to be living under a rock to not recognize a member of the Malfoy family. He wasn't sure of the man's first name, but there was no damn way that he wasn't a Malfoy.

The woman, whose eyes had previously been locked with Ron's, hurriedly turned her body around towards Malfoy. Ron frowned as he studied the pair, trying to decipher what the git was saying, annoyed that he could no longer see her face. Before he could come to any conclusions about their interaction, Malfoy was walking away and an older woman, who by the looks of her was certainly the woman's mother, rushed to her side, her demeanor frantic as she said something to her daughter. The woman's back stiffened before she replied, and then she was following her mother out of sight. Ron's heart dropping when she didn't even glance back.

"Neeeeever going to happen mate," Harry said as he came to stand next to him, a smirk on his face. "Don't even entertain that idea that I can practically see forming in your brain."

As if breaking out of a daze, Ron turned to Harry. His best friend was right of course, but still, his words left him feeling dejected.

"I know," he sighed. "I just...there was something about her, Harry. I've never felt like that before..."

Harry laughed. "There you go again, playing the hopeless romantic! It's funny that despite having such a tender heart, you've never been in love before."

"That's not true," Ron said slowly, turning to his friend with a wicked grin on his face. "I love you Harry James Potter!"

He stuck his lips dramatically out and leaned towards Harry's face as he made kissing noises. Harry jumped out of the way, making a noise of disgust.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron chastised. "You know you like men!" Ron continued, taking steps closer as Harry took steps back.

Harry laughed. "While that may be true Ron, I do not like you ! Not in that way, at least."

Ron feigned offense as Harry stepped forwards and gave him a small shove. "No offense mate, you just aren't my type."

"No offense taken," Ron replied quietly, his eyes going back to where the woman had been standing earlier.

"Come on, let's go see what they have to eat," Harry said.

Ron nodded his agreement, and with one last glance backwards, he followed Harry inside.

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The third class dining area was set up as a large buffet, and had many different selections. The food was delicious, and by the time they were done eating, both Ron and Harry were thoroughly satisfied. After eating, they made their way to the bar, with Harry determined to take advantage of the unlimited alcohol.

Harry leaned back on his stool, letting out a loud groan as he patted his belly. "Let's just live here permanently . It could be a good life," he joked.

Ron managed a half-hearted laugh, and watched as Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Please don't tell me that you're still thinking about her, Ron."

"Who?" Ron asked, trying to pretend that he had no idea what Harry was talking about.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Malfoy's arm candy."

"Don't call her that!" Ron snarled, causing Harry to chuckle.

"Well," Harry chuckled. "It wasn't hard to get the truth out of you."

Ron let out a groan. "Yeah," he admitted. "I can't stop thinking about her. Not that she'd ever give me the time of day if she's hanging around with the likes of a Malfoy, but still..."

"Tell you what," Harry said as he leaned in closer. "I'll hang out here for a while, and you can go to the room before me and have a good wank to help get your mind off of her."

Ron let out a loud laugh as he shoved his best friend playfully on the shoulder. "A wank isn't what I need, Harry."

"Probably what I need," Harry mumbled as he scanned the room, taking a sip of his beer. "I wonder if I can also find true love on this ship?" He laughed. "Of course, I'll be looking in my own class, y'know — for someone who I actually have a shot with," he added, giving Ron a wicked smirk.

"You arse, " Ron laughed. "I got you on this fucking ship, you can't take the mickey!"

Harry put his hand over his heart. "You're right, Ron. I am eternally grateful, and you definitely have a shot with that pretty rich girl."

"Ugghhh!" Ron groaned. " Fine ! You're right. I need to forget it. I doubt that I'll even see her again — she definitely won't be hanging out in these areas with the likes of us." He gestured around the room. "She's on the same ship, but she might as well be on a different planet," he added in a solemn voice.

"Okay," Harry sighed. "I can't handle you being all melancholy right now. Drink this," he demanded, sliding his drink over to Ron.

Ron arched an eyebrow at his friend, but picked up the cup and took a long swig. "Damn. This stuff is great."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "And this isn't even the good stuff! Just imagine what those rich snobs are drinking right now while wearing their fancy suits and gowns!"

Ron shot him a glare. "Having money doesn't make someone a snob," he defended, his mind right back on the woman he had seen on the deck. She certainly hadn't looked like a snob, despite her fancy clothes.

Harry rolled his eyes as he let out a sigh. "Alright. I'm going to go get another drink, and then I'm going to walk around and see if there's a handsome man who catches my eye," he finished, waggling his eyebrows and causing Ron to sputter into his drink.

Ron shook his head. "Go ahead, mate. I'm going to finish this drink and head back to the room — call it a night."

Harry clapped him on the shoulder in appreciation before sauntering away, a smile on his face.

Ron couldn't help but chuckle. Harry had always been the 'man's man' ever since he had met him. Ron's own sexuality had been questioned numerous times because of Harry, but he had never minded. He loved his best friend, and it was worth it.

With Harry gone, Ron started to think about her again, not even bothering to fight it. He'd been to lots of places and seen many women; had even been in several fleeting relationships, yet he had never before felt the way he had as he stared into her eyes. The entire moment between them had lasted mere seconds, but those seconds had nearly turned Ron's whole world upside down.

He wondered if she was actually with that Malfoy arsehole, the idea bothering him more than it should. The man looked cold and detached, and even when Ron had only seen him in pictures, he hadn't liked him. Being rich and successful might impress some, but it had never impressed Ron. He had always been able to read people well, which had been both a blessing and a curse, and he knew that man was not a good one.

Although Ron wanted nothing more than to walk around the entire ship until he found her, he knew that he couldn't. Harry was right. Ron shook his head as if he could shake her from his thoughts, even though he knew it wouldn't be that easy. He stood up, deciding that he needed some air before heading to bed. He was planning to let Harry know that he was about to leave, but when he saw him chatting to a man at the bar, he decided not to interrupt, lest it be 'true love'.

Finding the stairs that lead to the lower deck, he made his way outside to find nobody else out there. He couldn't blame them though - it was bloody freezing . He buttoned up his jacket, hoping that he could at least manage a few minutes. He walked along the deck, the wind whipping his hair around as he looked down at the ocean below, thinking again about how enormous this ship really was. He found a bench bolted down out of the way and sat down, wrapping his arms tight around himself.

He was out there for about ten minutes when he heard a clicking noise that was quickly growing louder. He leaned forwards to look around, realizing the sound was from high heels against the wooden floor. He wondered why anybody else would be out there when it was this cold, especially someone who was wearing those kinds of shoes. He finally spotted a figure hurrying towards him, her dress trailing around her as she rushed away from wherever she had come.

He froze, his heart practically stopping when he realized who it was.

It was her.

It was the same woman who hadn't left his headspace since he had seen her mere hours before. This time though, she was alone, and getting closer and closer to him by the second. It was as if today was his lucky day, and everything was going fucking right for him. Before he could make a plan of action, she passed him. She was walking fast — practically running— oblivious to his presence. With a feeling like he was being punched in the gut, he realized that she was crying, sobbing actually, and the sight made him feel sick. His initial suspicion had been right, she wasn't okay. Usually, being right made him feel good, but this time, he was not glad at all.

This was none of his business, she was none of his business. He knew that, and yet, he knew that he absolutely couldn't let her get away. Not again. Not after she had been invading his thoughts from the moment he had caught sight of her.

He paused only a moment before getting to his feet and following.