ABOARD THE DRAGOMIR
Hermione heard the muted rumble of the ocean, the creaking of wood, and the gentle hum of magic that powered the Dragomir forward. She opened her eyes. There was a red canopy above her. She drew back the curtains, and looked around. She blinked suddenly, her face illuminated by a dancing blue light...the water reflected from the porthole of her cabin.
She guessed the ship was several feet below sea level.
Hermione wondered how long it would take to reach the French coast of Étretat.
She was lying in an intricately carved bed, made of fine, polished mahogany. Across from her was a desk and a velvet chair. There was a symbol of a red dragon on the back of the chair, set against gold cloth. The ship's name was emblazoned on the top.
Gold brackets hung on the paneled walls, holding long, thin tapers.
Hermione noticed that the flames were burning low, and she had no idea when they'd last been lit.
Just above the desk was a gilded mirror.
Hermione's reflection stared back at her. She was pale and wild-haired. She looked down at her arms. Her cuts had been healed. It felt like she'd slept for days. But even so, her head throbbed painfully.
She vaguely remembered someone pulling her from the deck, but after that everything had gone black...
She scratched at her collar. She was dressed in a white nightgown, but she didn't remember putting it on.
And where was her wand?
Hermione moved to the edge of the bed and stood up.
She grasped onto the bedpost to steady herself, her legs shaking slightly.
She searched frantically for her wand, hoping she hadn't dropped it in the lake.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it at the foot of her bed, on top of a heavy, wooden chest. Her clothes were there too. They were torn and singed, and there was something sticking out of her trousers.
Hermione pulled out a crumpled letter from the front pocket, and she was suddenly hit by a vivid memory of Fawkes.
He had dropped the letter into her lap during the battle, and she'd seen Dumbledore's seal on the back.
She climbed back into bed, the letter in hand.
"Lumos," she whispered.
She opened the letter, expecting the ink to have run, but Dumbledore's writing remained intact.
He had written the letter in code.
Hermione worked out the message, her eyes scanning the parchment.
The letter was short, and there were no words of advice or even a goodbye from Dumbledore—just an address and a date.
Rue Duquesnoy 5, 1000 Bruxelles
September 3rd
There was an illustration of two doves at the bottom of the address.
It took Hermione a few moments to work out the meaning.
Her parents. He had moved her parents two days after she'd returned to Hogwarts. They were safe…in Brussels apparently.
Hermione clutched the letter to her chest. At least they were out of harm's way. But Dumbledore had told her next to nothing about his plans—only that Harry was in Spain, but he hadn't said what he was doing there or how she was supposed to help him.
Hermione heard muted voices in the corridor outside, and wondered where Ginny and Draco were. Maybe she should ask for them...
She started to get out of bed, but then she felt a searing pain in her head.
She remembered she'd been hit by something in the Founders Chambers...and that's when her strange visions had started.
And yet, instinct told her something else had provoked the visions. It had been that book…the one she'd found hidden inside the pillar. She'd touched its pages and the entire room had spun violently...
The book!
She'd tucked it under her arm on the way out of the Founders Chambers. But then...
She didn't remember. With a sinking feeling she realized she must have dropped it.
Hermione looked around the cabin. It definitely wasn't here.
She was sure the book was tied to everything somehow—to Voldemort and his plans. When she'd touched it—she hadn't hallucinated, those visions had felt like real glimpses into the past, to the times of the Founders.
Hermione remembered the women clad in medieval gowns, running away from the muggles with torches…
She shut her eyes, if she remembered that, she remembered other things. Cho falling, Seamus screaming, Dumbledore burning...
She shook her head. She was not prepared to relive any of it.
But there was one thing she couldn't stop mulling over.
Above all, Dumbledore's final words to Voldemort were at the forefront of her mind.
"Catherine lives and she's closer than you know."
Catherine lives.
Who was Catherine? And why had Voldemort reacted with such fury at the mention of her name?
That Hermione thought, was the most disconcerting thing of all.
She pulled the covers up to her chin, and let the gentle rocking of the ship lull her back to sleep, Dumbledore's letter still clutched in her hand.
Hours later there was a sharp knock at her door.
Hermione opened her eyes, her whole body tense. She half expected sunlight to shine in from the windows, but then she remembered they were underwater.
She clambered out of bed and reached for her wand. She opened her door a crack and peered outside.
There was a boy of sixteen standing in the corridor. He was dressed in heavy furs. He had a round face, a double chin, and his coat was stretched tight over his sizable stomach, the buttons threatening to pop off with every breath he took.
"Yes?" Hermione asked.
"My name is Valko. I am here to escort you. The captain vould like to see you."
Hermione frowned at him, confused. Then she looked down at her nightdress. She couldn't wear this to meet the captain, and her other clothes were ruined. "I'm not prepared, I don't have anything to w—"
"In the chest you vill find everything you need. I vill vait outside."
"Wait," Hermione said.
Valko nodded at her.
"How long have we been at sea?"
"Three days."
She had been asleep for three days?
Valko spoke again. "Our healer saw to your wounds and gave you a sleeping draft. You wouldn't stop screaming the first night. You ver—most disturbed."
"Were we followed?" Hermione asked. "Is everyone alright? My friends—"
"Ms. Granger, you are safe now and so are your friends. We are here to protect you. Aboard the Dragomir no von can touch you."
Valko shut the cabin door, and Hermione opened the wooden chest at the foot of her bed and found a long woolen dress, stockings and a pair of boots.
She dressed quickly and went out into the corridor.
The Dragomir's exterior was enchanted to resemble a wreck. It had a skeletal look, a quarterdeck and forecastle, square rigging and two masts. The dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes.
Hermione guessed it was meant to confuse muggle divers in the event that they encountered the vessel. But on the inside it was as magnificent as a palace. The passages were covered in fine paintings, gold leaf decorated the walls, and silk drapes hung across arched windows that looked out into the ocean. Every so often Hermione saw fairy dust, and the wood was exquisitely polished, the windows sparkled clean. The fairies were too tiny to see, but Hermione knew they were there, taking delight in making the ship glow with magic.
It was the only ship of its kind, a breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, but no government had seen fit to call it into question.
And thank Merlin for that, Hermione thought, as she followed Valko down another passage. How else would she have gotten the first and second years out of Hogwarts?
But Hermione stared at the opulence with hollow eyes. She was fully aware that she was safe, aboard a lavishly decorated ship, while her friends were fighting for their lives back home. At least the ones who had survived.
She followed Valko until they came upon a large wooden door.
"Vait here," he said.
He walked past her and Hermione caught sight of a dimly lit study.
She heard Valko greet someone, then he conversed with two others. She strained to hear, but she understood nothing, they were speaking in Bulgarian.
She paced in the corridor, feeling uneasy, and just when she was about to knock on the door, Valko reappeared.
"You may enter," he said, holding the door open for her.
Hermione walked into a lavish study that looked out onto the ocean. The captain had his back turned to her, staring out the windows.
A small dog—a beagle pup with bright blue eyes lay at his feet.
"Captain," said Valko tentatively. "Hermione Granger is here to see you."
The captain turned and took off his cap. A wave of long auburn curls fell out of it. Instead of the rugged face Hermione expected, she was met with the opposite—a delicate face with arched eyebrows, a long, pointed nose and full red lips.
Hermione gasped.
The captain was a woman, and much to her surprise she looked no older than twenty-three.
"Hello Ms. Granger, I am Nikola Rostov. I'm glad to see you. The Order tells me you are a highly skilled witch. Although I'm afraid your judgment leaves much to be desired."
She looked over Hermione's shoulder.
Hermione spun around.
Draco was seated on a wooden chair, ropes tied around his arms. His left sleeve was rolled up, and his Dark Mark was visible. There were two members of the crew standing on either side of him.
"Miroslav...Krasimir..." Nikola said, addressing Draco's guards, "don't you think Mr. Malfoy has quite a striking face? Why don't you roughen it up a bit. Give it more character?"
Her voice was not mild or subdued. It projected across the room with a strength and firmness that made the two men stand at attention.
Nikola tossed each of them a blade.
Hermione panicked, trying to think of a way out of this.
Nikola sat in a large high backed chair by the window, waiting for the crew to carry out her orders. The beagle pup hurried to her side and sat at her feet. He barked at Draco, his long ears swinging back and forth as he lunged forward.
"Silence Konstantin, my darling," Nikola said, patting his head gently. She waved at Miroslav and Krasimir. "Go on then, carve away."
"No!" Hermione shouted. "You're making a mistake."
"Durmstang's last headmaster, Karkaroff, had a questionable reputation, Ms. Granger. You vill understand that I cannot be linked to anyone who sympathizes vith the Dark Lord."
Konstantin barked approvingly, raising a small white paw. His round belly quivered slightly.
"He's not loyal to Voldemort!" Hermione exclaimed.
"He wears the Dark Mark on his arm. I ask myself, why vould you Ms. Granger, bring a Death Eater on board this ship?"
Hermione's mouth opened and closed, her brain trying to string together a response that would make sense.
Nikola raised her wand and conjured a second chair next to Draco's, then stood. Hermione stepped backwards as the captain walked into her. Eventually, she was forced to sit in the chair next to Draco's. Ropes appeared out of thin air and tied around her wrists too.
Hermione realized no one would ever accept Draco or understand why she trusted him. He was a Malfoy, a Death Eater, and she was Harry Potter's best friend.
Nikola raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "When ve re-surface, all Mr. Malfoy has to do is tap his vand to the Dark Mark and You-Know-Who vill discover our exact location. He can attack us before ve ever reach shore."
Hermione bristled. "Malfoy had several opportunities to take me prisoner during the Battle of Hogwarts and he didn't do it. He saved me, more than once."
Draco cleared his throat, and looked at Nikola calmly, as if his life were not hanging by a thread. "As I told you earlier, captain, my loyalty is to the Order and the Magical Alliance. Surely you can see that. If you were asked to captain a ship so young, you must possess special capabilities. I've heard you're a skilled legilimens..."
Hermione gave Draco a warning look. He was inviting Nikola to look into his mind? If this went wrong it would cost him his life...and hers too if he wasn't careful.
Draco kept his face neutral, confident of the training Bellatrix had given him in Occlumency. Nikola would find nothing he didn't want her to see.
Konstantin barked at him, suspicious, but Nikola refused to take the bait. She reached for a tray sitting on the desk behind her and picked up a glass of wine. She handed it to Draco.
He couldn't see it or smell it, but he was sure it was laced with Veritaserum.
"Let us toast to your grand escape," Nikola said, reaching for a second glass.
Draco tensed. This isn't what he'd hoped for.
He tipped his glass back. He kept his face blank. He did not panic. He swallowed slowly, tasting the wine.
Nikola stared at him unwaveringly. Konstantin lay at her feet and he cocked his head to one side, looking at Draco curiously.
"A bit too sour for my taste," Draco said swiftly. "You see, I'm used to much higher quality back home."
Hermione groaned.
Nikola ignored his condescending tone and leaned forward. "Finish it."
It was an order, not a request.
Malfoy drank every last drop of wine, smirking at Nikola as he did so.
An odd sensation came over him, and then he felt his body relax, he became less aware of his surroundings...
He blinked, fighting to remain present.
"Is your name Draco Malfoy?" Nikola asked.
"Yes," he said, in a flat, emotionless voice.
"And your parents are…?"
"Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy."
Hermione leaned forward, realizing that Nikola had altered his drink.
"Did you run avay from your father's home?"
The potion wanted to force the truth out, it was yanking the words up into Draco's throat and pushing them through his lips. He forced them down, clamping his mouth shut.
Immediately, he heard his father's voice in his head.
Your body will urge you to give the obvious answer, but you must fight the impulse. You must think clearly enough to rephrase the question to yourself. That way you give the inquisitor the answer he or she wants to hear, and it…in some way…will be true.
Draco forced himself to think. Technically, he had run from the house to the charmed car that took him to King's Cross every year, so he could indeed say that he had run away from home. At least, in the literal sense—he had run from the front door to the car—although it was because he was running late, not because he planned to leave home forever. But Nikola didn't need to know that.
"Yes," Draco said, in the same flat, emotionless voice. "I ran away from home."
"Are you loyal to the Dark Lord?"
It took every restraint for Draco to keep his mouth shut. Was he loyal to the Dark Lord? Outwardly, it appeared so. But in truth, he was loyal to his family. Whatever dirty work he did for Voldemort was not of his choosing. He was more a prisoner than a loyal follower.
"No, I am not loyal to the Dark Lord."
Nikola's eyes narrowed as she formed her next question. "And did you, at any time…"
Draco's stomach clenched. He braced himself, preparing for the worst.
"…pass information to your father in the days before the battle?"
The knot in Draco's stomach loosened. She almost had him there. Had she said "weeks" and not "days" he would have been forced to tell her every time he'd sent owls back home.
"No, I didn't."
Nikola eyed him suspiciously, preparing a final question.
"And why did you help Ms. Granger during the battle? She said you saved her..." Nikola smiled. "Are you in love with her?"
That, he was not expecting. Panic rose within Draco, and he was unable to focus on distancing himself from his emotions. Sweat trickled down his forehead. It was as if an invisible anchor was hooked to his mouth, prying it open, forcing out the truth. A reply formed…it was on the verge of falling from his lips—
"That's enough," said Hermione. She cast a silencing charm on Draco before he could answer.
The words died in his throat.
Nikola laughed. "Aren't you curious, Ms. Granger?"
"You've gone too far," said Hermione. "Surely, there are more important things for us to discuss than Draco's personal feelings."
"Indeed," said Nikola dryly, looking Hermione up and down.
"How long until we arrive at Étretat?" Hermione asked, steering the conversation away from Draco.
"Ve cannot re-surface until Voldemort is engaged in battle once more. There are rumors that the allies vill attack Voldemort's forces again in a week's time. Once he is occupied, he is less likely to find us."
Hermione frowned. "And if he discovers we fled to Étretat?"
"The danger lies in the journey, Ms. Granger. But once ve arrive, ve are safe. Étretat is sacred land. Vunce the students set foot on its soil, they cannot be touched." She looked pointedly at Draco. "The devil may not enter. You von't be able to enter, nor anyone else vith that mark."
Nikola waved Valko forward.
"You may remove him now."
"What vould you like us to do with him, Captain?"
"He may roam about the ship freely, but observe him closely, if he steps out of line, break his wand, then his neck."
Draco's eyes widened for the briefest of moments.
Valko and the other two crew members led Draco out of the study, leaving Hermione alone with the captain.
"After ve deliver the students to Étretat, ve can leave your friend, Mr. Malfoy, ver he likes," said Nikola. "Then ve vill sail on to Spain to meet Mr. Potter."
Yes, Hermione thought. It would be best for her to meet Harry alone. There was a weight in her chest at the thought of parting ways with Draco, but she couldn't think about that now, there were other matters to attend to.
Nikola spoke again. "I assume Dumbledore discussed the details of Harry's mission in Spain."
Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore never told me why Harry was there."
"I see, he's left that to me then, I'm afraid," Nikola replied. She drained the last of the wine from her glass. "Have you heard of the Arévalos, Ms. Granger?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "They're the oldest vampire coven in Spain."
Nikola refilled her wine glass with a tap of her wand and went on.
"Voldemort does not have many vampires in his army. The few that he enlisted are those that were exiled from their covens or disgraced. No vampire in good standing deigns to help a wizard. We hoped Mr. Potter would change that when it came to the Arévalos. No other vampires hold their kind of power. Be assured, Ms. Granger, we cannot win the war without them. The Magical Alliance alone will not be enough."
Hermione leaned forward. "But vampires have long hated wizards. Voldemort tried to recruit them in the last war, and they refused him."
"Mr. Potter met with the Spanish vampires some time ago. He sent us a letter saying they were close to reaching some kind of understanding, but then we lost communication."
Hermione gripped the arm of her chair.
"We had an agent in Spain that assisted Mr. Potter—a Mr. Calatrava. Potter vas to have a final meeting with the vampires, then journey back to Calatrava's home. But Calatrava never heard from your friend again. He sent owls to the Arévalo's meeting place vith letters inquiring after him, but he never received a reply. Instead, the vampires drained the owls of blood and delivered them on Calatrava's doorstep."
Hermione's heart sank. "Are you telling me you don't know where Harry is?"
Nikola shifted uncomfortably, her cool exterior faltering. "At the moment….no."
"What would the Arévalo's want with him?" asked Hermione. "They wouldn't think to—"
"Vampires vould never turn a wizard," said Nikola. "It is not in their interest to make us more powerful. The few times in history it has happened—the product of sordid love affairs—the vampire vas punished most severely by his coven, and the wizard or witch murdered."
Hermione nodded."But they would consider keeping Harry prisoner for their own gain?"
Nikola nodded, then drained the last of her wine before continuing.
"Before we lost communication, Potter told us the Arévalo's had certain demands. The oldest, Sebastián, wanted to meet with someone before he agreed to an alliance."
"Who?" Hermione asked, curious.
Nikola raised an eyebrow. "He wanted to meet with you."
"With me?" Hermione whispered. "But why?"
"We ver hoping you vould be able to tell us."
Hermione shook her head. "I have absolutely no idea."
"Harry vould meet with the Arévalo's in Segovia, in the old Alcazar palace. As far as we know they never took him to their true home. You must find their true home, Ms. Granger."
Hermione's blood ran cold. So she was expected to meet with dangerous and unpredictable vampires, with no guarantee to her safety. And Nikola as well as the Order had no idea where Harry was.
"Sebastián promised you'd remain unharmed, although the word of a vampire—"
"Is not to be trusted," Hermione finished.
"The choice is yours Ms. Granger, you may stay in Étretat where your safety can be assured. Or you can sail on to Spain."
Hermione took a deep breath. She couldn't hide in Étretat with her arms crossed. Not when Harry's life was on the line.
"I'll go," she said. "I'll sail on with you to Spain."
Nikola nodded.
"If I may give you some advice, Ms. Granger...keep Mr. Malfoy out of your plans. He is handsome and clever, but I knew his father and I doubt his interests are anything but selfish."
Hermione stiffened. "If that's all, I think I'd like to go."
Nikola nodded. "Goodbye, Ms. Granger."
The ropes binding Hermione fell loose.
She rose to leave, but then froze at the door.
"Has the Order obtained any intelligence on the Weasley family? Arthur and Molly Weasley, or their son Ronald?"
Nikola hesitated a moment before answering. "No," she said. "Ve haff heard nothing."
"Thank you captain," Hermione replied curtly, then she made to exit the study.
There was a loud bark from behind her. Konstantin had gotten to his feet and was staring at her intently.
Nikola smiled. "He likes you, he vishes you to say goodbye before you leave."
Hermione's eyes widened. She approached Konstantin with caution then knelt down to pat his head. He licked her hand vigorously.
"You may look after him today," Nikola said. "A valk around the deck vould do him good, and you're in need of company."
Hermione stared at her, surprised, then she reached for Konstantin and carried him away.
Hermione wanted to dislike Nikola Rostov, but later she found out she couldn't. As the day transpired Hermione observed her closely. The captain had strength and character, and an unwavering command of the ship. Her camaraderie with the crew was enviable, and they trusted in her decisions.
But there was one thing Hermione hoped Nikola was mistaken about, and that was Draco.
Dinner was a quiet affair.
The dining room was as elaborate as the rest of the ship, with a low-hanging chandelier, high-backed chairs and a thick, red carpet.
The students ate quietly. The horror of the battle was still fresh in their minds, and most of them felt like they were on borrowed time, not quite believing they'd made it out of Hogwarts alive.
Every so often, sudden movements or loud noises from the crew made them jump.
Hermione was sitting next to Ginny. She didn't speak much and she stared down at the table, looking at her empty plate but not really seeing it.
Moments later, a sprinkle of gold dust fell over their plates, filling them with food.
The fairies again, Hermione thought.
There was Bulgarian Tarator soup, platters of fish and veal, and trays of stuffed peppers and potatoes.
Everyone began eating, and the sound of cutlery filled the room.
Konstantin chased Crookshanks around the table. The two had entered into a duel of sorts the minute Hermione had introduced them.
"I had a dream about Ron," Ginny said suddenly. "But he wasn't right, he wasn't exactly…human."
Hermione looked at her in surprise, her fork suspended in mid-air.
"What do you mean?" she asked carefully.
"It's hard to describe, but I just knew he wasn't himself."
"Ginny, I'm sure it was just a nightmare. We're bound to have them after everything that's happened."
Ginny lifted her spoon, and plunged it into her bowl of soup. "It didn't feel that way to me. It felt like a vision."
Hermione's blood chilled. She nodded, but thought it best not to push the subject further.
Ginny drank her soup, making a face at the strange taste.
Hermione looked around the dining room. There was no sign of Draco. She wondered where he'd gone off to.
What if Nikola had ordered the crew to lock him in his cabin?
"I'm not that hungry," Ginny said, interrupting her thoughts. "Can we go?"
Hermione shook her head, piling veal and potatoes onto her plate. She had no idea when she'd had her last meal. She ate quickly and urged Ginny to do the same, planning to find Draco as soon as she finished.
Malfoy paced the deck of the ship. It had taken the last of his nerve to keep his head together in front of Nikola Rostov.
As if he didn't have enough to torture him already.
After the battle he'd started to panic, thinking of his mother held captive in Edevane's power.
Over time the wizard had become Voldemort's right-hand man and he was a ruthless killer.
How long until his mother cracked under the torture?
Draco's blood boiled every time he remembered Rookwood's words: 'The Dark Lord sent your mother prisoner, didn't he, Draco? To an old friend who longed to see her. I hear Edevane's had his first taste of her.'
He closed his eyes, trying to block the thoughts that were surfacing.
He had a vivid memory from his childhood—a memory of the last time his mother was in grave danger...
Draco was five and he and his mother were walking through the gardens of the manor. He noticed that she was wearing her favorite pale pink shoes, and she stepped carefully, trying not to flatten the flowers around them.
She'd had a terrible fight with his father the night before. She had emerged from his study with a broken wrist. The elves had taken him to his room, and he wasn't allowed to see her again until the next day.
She asked him to pick a few roses for her, then take them inside the drawing room when he was done.
She left his side and returned to the manor.
Draco took his time to search for the prettiest roses he could find. He knew his mother was low in spirits and he wanted to see her smile again.
An hour later he searched for her in the drawing room, roses in hand, but she wasn't there. He checked the study next, but to no avail. Finally, he went up the long spiral staircase that led to her room, a feeling of foreboding growing inside his chest. He reached the second floor landing and walked to the room at the end of the corridor. He reached for the handle and opened the door.
It was empty.
Or so he thought.
As he walked to the center of the room, something brushed his shoulder.
He spun around. His mother's pale pink shoes were dangling in front of his face. He looked up, and saw a noose hanging around her neck, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Draco screamed for Dobby, screamed for Dobby until his voice grew hoarse. The elf appeared inside the room with a pop, freezing with terror at the sight in front of him.
"DOBBY, HELP HER! HELP HER!"
With a snap of Dobby's fingers, the rope split in half and his mother fell to the ground.
His father and the family healer had been called home immediately.
His mother had nearly lost her life, and it was months before she was herself again.
Draco breathed in deeply. What if she tried the same thing again? What if—
He snapped back to reality when he heard movement. He looked over his shoulder. Granger had found him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, stiffening.
"I didn't see you at dinner…" Hermione started. "I—I wanted to make sure you were alright."
Malfoy looked wrecked. His eyes were suspiciously red and his face was paler than usual.
Draco laughed bitterly. "I suspect none of us will be alright for a very long time, Granger."
"Why did Voldemort take your mother prisoner?" she asked softly, certain that Narcissa was the reason he was so ill at ease. "At Hogwarts I heard Rookwood say she was given to a wizard named Edevane."
Draco's jaw twitched.
Because I haven't gotten any information out of you, he thought bitterly.
Instead he said, "I suppose it's my punishment, for running away and not fulfilling my duties as a Death Eater."
"Edevane, who is he exactly?" Hermione pressed. "An old enemy of your family's?"
"It's more complicated than that," Draco said.
Hermione looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear more.
Draco sighed. "My mother was betrothed to Edevane when she was young, but the day of their wedding she ran away and eloped with my father. At the time my father's family had lost much of their fortune, and my grandfather disapproved of him. He had arranged for my mother to marry Edevane instead, but he was twenty years her senior and she hated him. Edevane's been biding his time all these years, waiting for revenge."
Hermione gazed at him fearfully. "You mean—"
"He'll have his way with her, humiliate her—" Draco's fists clenched. "You know what I mean by humiliate?"
Hermione's blood chilled, and she was forcibly reminded of Rookwood, the leering look in his eyes and the greedy way he had touched her.
Draco lost control of himself, unable to contain his anger any longer. "I shouldn't have left!" he shouted.
He kicked the deck of the ship and looked around wildly.
His eyes fell on a heavy set of crates.
"Draco, no!"
He brandished his wand and blasted the crates in front of him, sending them flying into the air then back down again. Bits of wood went flying everywhere.
Hermione yelped as bits of wood nicked her skin.
"Draco stop!"
His vision blurred. He was crying in front of Hermione. He was supposed to make her fall in love with him, and instead he was letting her see him fall apart. Pathetic.
"Draco, you have to calm down, the crew will lock you away!"
"What do you care?!" he shouted.
Hermione tried to reach for him but he threw her off.
"Just go away," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
He slumped onto the deck. Hermione knelt beside him.
"I'm sorry," she said, tears falling down her face. "I'm sorry about your mother."
She tried to reach for Draco again, and this time he let her.
"Maybe Lucius will think of a way to free her..."
Draco shook his head. "My father won't save her. His plans with Voldemort are too—"
He had to stop there, if he continued talking, he wouldn't be able to stop. He had to complete his mission. Hermione could never know the truth.
"You can't blame yourself Draco," she said. "If you'd stayed home you might be dead now. And how would you help your mother then?"
Malfoy looked at her guiltily, thinking of how eventually he'd have to betray her.
There was a loud sound, and they both looked up.
A large sea creature that looked like a serpent was swimming above them, and the magical orb that acted as a barrier trembled slightly. They held their breath as it moved past, in awe of its enormous size.
"I wonder where we are?" Hermione said slowly. "Nikola didn't say."
Draco smirked at her and reached inside his robes. He pulled out a looking scope. "I stole this from one of the crew. Care to take a look?"
"Will that work underwater?" Hermione asked.
Draco nodded.
They stood and Draco handed the miniature looking scope to Hermione. She looked into the lens, and it was like she was zooming through the water to the surface of the ocean, then to the sky above. The stars looked beautiful.
She felt Draco move behind her, and soon his hands were on her arms, guiding her.
Her breath caught as he whispered into her ear.
"Look just over there. You see that constellation?"
Hermione nodded, recognizing it.
"The North Star is on the opposite side."
He moved her to the left. "Just there."
The constellation's seven stars shone brightly, and they were so vivid, Hermione felt she could reach out and touch them.
Draco spoke again. "My guess is we're not far from Étretat. But you heard Nikola, we'll remain hidden until it's safe."
Hermione lowered the looking scope and turned to face him again. "I suppose that makes sense."
Draco was silent for a moment then he looked at her strangely. "At the battle...there was a moment when you weren't yourself."
"What do you mean?"
"You were hallucinating. I'm not sure exactly what you saw—"
"I wasn't hallucinating," Hermione said quickly. "When I touched that book—the one one that we found in the Founder's Chambers—I was able to see the past. If I could just see that book again, maybe I could understand—"
"I have it," Draco said.
Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. "What?!"
"You dropped it on the way out of the chambers. I picked it up and hid it in my robes. It's completely drenched now from our swim in the lake, but if you want it, it's yours."
Hermione nodded eagerly at him. "Yes—yes, I'd like to look at it."
Draco nodded. "I'll stop by your cabin later."
Hermione watched him carefully. The pain in his eyes had not receded, but lingered there, threatening to resurface.
She sensed Draco wanted to be alone.
"I'll see you tonight then," she said.
Hermione hung onto the wall for support as she walked back to her cabin. The floor tilted sideways, and she struggled for balance as the ship passed through turbulent waters. The rush of the ocean was louder than ever, and she began to feel uneasy, wishing they could rise to the surface and see the sky again.
When Hermione got back to her cabin, she found a surprise waiting for her.
On her desk there was a silver tray with wine and a slice of cake.
The fairies, Hermione thought, feeling a rush of gratitude. She had been in such a hurry to leave the dining room, she hadn't bothered with dessert.
Hermione ate, then checked in on Ginny. She was fast asleep a few cabins down, Konstantin and Crookshanks curled up at her feet.
Hermione returned to her cabin and waited for Draco. An hour passed and he didn't show. Tired, she kicked off her boots and removed her stockings. She rested her chin on her hand, deciding she'd give him another few minutes.
Two hours later, she nearly fell asleep at her desk. She figured he wasn't coming. She changed into her nightgown and went to bed.
A few minutes later she was about to drift off to sleep, when there was a loud knock at the door. She stumbled towards it, hoping there wasn't some kind of emergency.
She threw open the door, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Draco stared back at her, his eyebrows raised.
He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance.
Hermione turned red, she'd forgotten she was in her nightgown and nothing else.
It was very thin, and she suspected Draco could see every detail of her body.
Hermione hurried back into the room, and found a sweater in the wooden chest by her bed. She quickly threw it over her head.
"I thought you weren't coming," she said over her shoulder.
"Do you want me to go?"
"No," she said, closing the wooden chest firmly.
"I have the book," Draco said when she returned to the door.
"Right, come in."
Draco walked to her desk and pulled out a chair.
He looked at Hermione carefully. His delay had been intentional. He knew tonight he had to seal her trust in him regardless of their past, and he had been preparing himself to do so, trying to sober up from the grief that had weakened him earlier.
Draco pulled the book from his robes and handed it to Hermione. She sat on her bed and opened it. Its pages were wrinkled, damaged from their swim in the lake.
"At the battle its pages were blank, just like now. But after you touched it…you started seeing things—things that weren't there."
"I wasn't hallucinating," said Hermione firmly. "I'm certain."
She thought for a moment.
"In the Founder's Chambers there was a test we had to pass before we were let in. There was an inscription written on the entrance: "Only united can the truth be discovered. Three minds alike. Three minds enlightened."
Hermione tapped a finger to her chin, thinking...
"Three minds..." she said. "I suppose it refers to three of the Founders. Maybe Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor? Salazar left the school before the chambers were sealed off. I don't think he took part in the enchantments that were cast."
Draco nodded. "That makes sense. I discovered Founders Chambers in second year with Pansy and Goyle. We were trying to find the Heir of Slytherin. I think we were let in because we weren't looking for this book, or the jewels that were hidden inside that pillar. But of course, our aim was to help Slytherin. We only had his interests in mind and not the interests of the other Founders. That's why they didn't let us find anything."
Draco paused for a moment, lost in thought. "But when you, Pansy and Everley entered the chambers it was different. You were all there for selfless reasons. You and Pansy wanted to rescue me, and Everley wanted to find his brother. And so, the Founder's revealed their secrets to you. And then their final test—valuable pieces of silver and jewels fell from the pillar, and you chose a book, the most ordinary of all."
Except it wasn't an ordinary book, Hermione thought. It had let her see into the past.
She changed the subject, sensing Draco wouldn't believe in her visions no matter how vividly she described them.
"Do you know anyone by the name of Catherine?" she asked. "Someone Voldemort may have known in the past? Dumbledore's last words to him were: 'Catherine lives, and she's closer than you know.'
Draco frowned at her. "You think she was important to him?"
Hermione nodded. "He had his sights set on climbing. Maybe she was a wealthy witch, a fellow student."
Draco shrugged. "Anyone who was friends with Tom Riddle then, would fiercely deny it after he came to power. They would have destroyed any letters. That was my grandfather's time, not my father's. I never met my grandparents on either side, they died before I was born. But Theo's grandmum told me that Tom Riddle had a way of making you feel like you were part of his inner circle...without really letting you in at all." Draco raised an eyebrow. "He was friends with everyone…but at the same time, friends with no one. After he graduated, no one heard from him for years. He was like a ghost."
Hermione pressed on. "Surely Hogwarts had records of his classes, prefect duties, photographs of events he attended."
Draco shook his head. "I hear the headmasters did away with his photographs and such things over time. They only kept the most basic information—that he was a brilliant student while he was at school, never a toe out of line. Theo's grandmum mentioned he attended a few dances, but according to her, he never had a serious relationship with any girl."
Hermione bit her lip. "There has to be a way to find out more about his time at Hogwarts. Or information on his first months back in Britain when he rose to power."
Draco shook his head. "When Voldemort came back to Britain he was completely transformed. At first people didn't realize he and Tom Riddle were the same person. The only people he contacted became Death Eaters and they weren't going to talk. Many of the original Death Eaters died in the first war. The papers called them the Original Seven, his friends from school. I suspect he killed most of them. He didn't want anyone to know about his past, and they were a liability."
Hermione wondered if Draco's grandfather had been one of the Original Seven. She thought it best not to ask.
They were both silent for a few moments, realizing they had reached a dead end.
Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
It was now or never, he thought.
"Granger, the only way to save my mother is to defeat Voldemort. I want to help you. I want to help Potter. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?"
"You, Potter and Weasley are always at the forefront of everything. I know Dumbledore entrusted you with something. You don't have to tell me what it is, but if there's any way I can help, I need to, for my mother. Do you understand?"
Hermione nodded slowly.
It looked like Draco wanted to say more, but he was having trouble working up the nerve.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Why did you stop me from answering earlier?"
"Answering what?" Hermione asked.
"Nikola's question. When she asked how I felt about you."
Malfoy took her hand in his, and ran his thumb along her palm.
"Draco I—"
"Yes," he whispered, leaning forward.
"I think it's best if we keep our heads clear," Hermione said quickly. "She pulled her hand away. "We don't need to complicate things between us, not with everything that's going on."
Draco swallowed. If he wasn't working for Voldemort he might have listened to her—left her room, tried to forget her. But his life wasn't his own anymore. He couldn't do what was right or sensible. He had to spin her into his web, seduce her, until she gave in.
He looked down at her lips.
Was she a virgin?
It didn't seem fair that her first time might be with him, a liar trying to use and manipulate her. But he had to push his guilt to one side. He had to complete his mission.
Hermione stood and Draco did the same.
"Thank you for bringing the book," she said.
"That's not the only reason I came," he replied. "And I think you know that."
Hermione's heart thundered in her chest. She hated feeling this way. Nervous, afraid and uneasy whenever he looked at her with that intensity. And that's what Draco did to her—he made her lose control and question herself.
"You should go," she insisted.
The ship rocked dangerously and she stumbled forward into him. The lights from the candlesticks flickered and she gripped onto his arms to keep herself from falling.
"I—I'm sorry," she said.
Draco snaked his arm around her waist, pressing her closer to him. He looked down at her lips again.
"Well, goodnight then," he said.
"Goodnight," she whispered, but it sounded more like a question.
He waited but she didn't make a move.
There was fire in her eyes but something held her back.
Draco swallowed.
Maybe she was ashamed, ashamed to feel anything for him.
He was a fool to think he could win her so easily.
He drew away from her and turned to go, almost at the cabin door when she spoke again.
"I—I don't want you to leave," Hermione said suddenly, her voice trembling.
He inhaled sharply.
At last, the words he wanted to hear.
He was at Hermione's side again in two quick strides.
Without asking for permission he moved her in front of the candlelight, and tugged at her sweater until it slipped off, falling at her feet.
He admired the outline of her body, the way the nightgown fell against her curves.
The ship rocked again and they fell into each other. Draco's lips were on hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as he led her to the bed, letting her rest against the cushions.
She pulled him down, sighing as he pressed his body against hers.
In a matter of moments his hands were all over her, his breathing frenzied.
Hermione swallowed.
The weight of Draco on top of her, the buttons of his trousers digging into her skin, sent a thrill through her body. Impatiently, she pulled his shirt over his head.
She ran her hands down his back, feeling the scars from Romena's lashings. She remembered Pansy had touched them, and she pressed her lips to Draco's fiercely, wanting to be the only girl he ever kissed.
He hitched her leg around his waist. His tongue pressed against hers, his mouth devouring her, then he took her hands and pinned them above her head.
Hermione looked up at him.
A serious look came over Draco then, and Hermione became very still, afraid of what he'd say.
He kissed her gently. "One day Granger…" he whispered against her lips, "you'll tell me three little words."
Hermione's heart froze in her chest. He didn't mean—
Neither of them knew where they'd end up after the war...falling in love would only get them killed.
On instinct, Hermione arched her back, pressing her breasts to Draco's chest again. She wanted to feel him move against her.
He trembled, frustrated that she was using her body as a weapon against him, refusing to acknowledge the weight of his words. But if that's what she wanted…fine.
He ground his hips against hers and ran his tongue along her ear until she shuddered.
"Draco," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.
He pulled on the ribbons of her nightgown, but then she was mumbling something, closing her hand around his wrist.
"Wait..." she said.
She didn't know if she was ready for this.
Draco lifted his grey eyes to meet hers. She was breathless, her cheeks flushed.
"I—I—"
Her words died in her throat when he kissed her breasts through the thin cotton of her nightgown.
"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered.
Hermione let go of his wrist and gripped her pillow tightly, her mouth falling open, a moan escaping her lips.
"No," she whispered. There was a fire in her belly...
"Go on..."
She shivered as Draco's hands traveled down to her stomach, then to her waist...then lower...
She cried out.
She wanted to forget the war, the battle, everything about that horrible night—their pain and guilt for surviving when so many had died.
For several minutes there was only the sound of their labored breathing, the creaking and groaning of the ship…
Draco was about to remove her nightgown completely when there was a knock at the door. They both froze.
"Don't get it, " Draco begged, pressing his lips to her neck.
Hermione pushed him away and reached for her sweater, her face heated. She had lost control...things had gone too far…
She tied the ribbons of her nightgown, then picked up her sweater and wrapped it around herself.
Draco stood, following her to the door as she yanked it open.
Valko was on the other side, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Draco.
"We haff to resurface earlier than scheduled. We're caught in a storm. The captain is asking everyone to meet in the dining hall."
"What about the magical barrier?" Draco asked. "Isn't it able to withstand this sort of thing?"
Valko nodded. "Yes, but Voldemort veakened it significantly when ve escaped Britain. We must rise to the surface now or ve'll be buried by sand and rock."
The ship swayed again, and Valko fell backwards into the corridor.
Hermione and Draco hung onto the doorframe of the cabin, their feet sliding.
"Hurry," Valko warned. He regained his balance and hurried away from them.
"I have to find Ginny," Hermione said, as the floor tilted ominously.
The ship lurched, and she and Draco fell backwards, hitting the ground with a loud thud. An invisible wind snuffed the flames out from the candlesticks.
"Wait here," Malfoy said through the darkness. "I'll get Ginny."
Hermione nodded.
As Draco left, his arm pushed against the nightstand, and the book from the Founder's Chambers dropped onto the floor.
Its pages flipped open but there was no wind.
Ink appeared on the parchment, revealing a date.
June 14, 1945
Hermione frowned, there was something oddly familiar about that date.
Then it hit her.
That was the year Tom Riddle had graduated. Hermione had expected the pages to turn further back in time, to the days of the Founders.
She hesitated. Should she wait for Draco to come back?
But what if this was her only chance? If she waited, the book might seal itself again...
She swallowed her fear and extended her hand.
There was a flash of light and Hermione screamed. She was yanked forward by an invisible hook, and a loud wind howled all around her.
Moments later the volume snapped shut, and the cabin was empty. Then thin, slanted words appeared on the cover of the Founder's book:
Hogwarts...A True History.
UPDATE: New chapter will be posted on 11/2
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Reviews highly appreciated! See you next time!